Hit Points:78

Chai’dro is the heavy hitter in combat, the ability to Cleave with the damaging power of his Bone Mace, allows him to take out lower level monster groups.
His favorite tactic is to use his ability to “Glower” before battle.


The acolyte entered the room of young ’dro and carefully looked over them with both his gaze and his powers. He wandered among the other ’dro who were on their knees before him and slowed near the end of one line. Reaching out he grasped the hair of the ’dro in front of him and looked at the scarring. He could feel the thick criss-crossing scars beneath his hands on the skull of the ’dro and was momentarily taken aback. Only the strongest ’dro had scarring enough to warrant them being placed in a location where they could not be seen. The scars on the ’dro’s face were the most extensive he had ever seen, why had it not been taken by other, more powerful acolytes? He looked at the incredibly muscular body and the scarring that covered every exposed area. The others oversight would be his gain. “You will guard me with your life Chai’dro.” The ’dro looked up into the acolytes face without fear, and then quickly looked back to the floor. The acolyte stood and walked out of the room with his new ’dro at his left hand. They would only be separated by death now. The ’dro was bonded for life to its Arcanist.
3 years pass
“Traimar my friend, your ’dro has certainly grown since you first chose him!”
“Aye Armness, he was a good choice. He has protected me well. Our breeding program succeeded beyond expectations with this one.”
Traimar had done much in the last 3 years and his praise of Chai’dro was warranted. The plan of the Order to release the demon was coming along nicely, due in no small part to the quests he had gone on to gain information on the puzzle pieces. Many times Chai’dro had fought his way out of situations that seemed sure death. Chai’dro had gone through at least three sets of armor and was on his fourth Glaive. Traimar was amazed at the size and reach of Chai’dro, the glaive seemed alive in its hands. In battle Chai’dro swept the hafted weapon around like it was the lightest dagger and it blocked blows in close combat with heavy plate bracers that fit his huge forearms like a second skin. Since choosing it, Traimar had only seen Chai’dro without armor a handful of times, mostly when being fitted for a larger set. The size and quantity of the scars still amazed him, even in the council sessions he had never seen another with that extensive scarring and he was not the only one that noticed. Many of the senior Arcanists looked at his ’dro with envy when they thought he was not watching. He would buy his ’dro spiked gauntlets next. They would enhance his savage appearance and just thinking about the huge fists smashing an enemy’s face with 4 inch long spiked gloves made him smile.
The council meeting was just finished and Traimar was headed back to his quarters. The planning session had gone well and the Atarian nobility were doing exactly as expected. The conquest of the broken lands was moving apace. Arriving at his quarters, Traimar , with his usual smug and superior tone, called to Chai’dro, “Clean the chamber pot and have my dinner brought up immediately.” Not only was his ’dro bigger and more scarred than any other, it was also the best trained of the group. The constant whipping and beating it had taken in the first year were well worth the effort. “Come my Chai’dro dog, I am hungry!” he said with a laugh. That laugh died in his throat as he felt a sharp pain in his back. The glaive slid easily in between his shoulder blades and out the front of his chest, Chai’dros strength cutting through muscle and sinew like it was water. The contents of the chamber pot were poured over Traimar’s corpse as Chai’dro…or was he no longer a ’dro?, left the room and headed for the exit. He moved quickly but carefully, taking nothing but his weapons, armor and cloak. Anything else would be noticed. A ’dro walking without his Arcanist was unusual enough. As he reached the front of the building he moved faster, opening the door and walking out closing it behind him. Bred for service, his was a life of pain and loyalty, which was now gone in moments. The body would not be discovered for hours, but when it was they would wonder why the ’dro was not dead on the floor as well. As far as he knew this was a first. A ’dro had NEVER killed his Arcanist and he knew they would be after him. There were many things he must do, but trying to alert others about the Arcanist plan to awaken the demon was the most critical.


Aerthrian Adventures Hedgewriter