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Thayndor Zahir
Thayndor Zahir
Count Thayndor Zahir
Height tall
Weight slim
Born 603 ATA
Died N/A
Mother Contessa Gwenwyn Zahir
Father Count Moldor Zahir
Children None
Siblings
Spouse None
Class Noble
Title Count Thayndor Zahir, Lord of Castle Darkwater

Backstory[]

The Zahir is ancestral lord of Castle Darkwater and was the last master of the group of rivergoing mercenaries known as Darkwater Deepers. He has been over the Aegis wall three times, served as Imperial Watermaster, been engaged to Mirabelle Vozhd-Kahar and Sahna Nillu at various times but married neither, taken the mark of a Mage of Fastheld, nearly died at the hands of Wildlings and human foes alike ... and somehow survived it all.

The name Thayndor Zahir and title Lord of Darkwater are well-known throughout the realm. Thayndor's father raised him at Castle Darkwater in the midst of the rowdy but loyal Deepers. Noble and Freelander alike were his tutors, although the Zahir learned well his father's lessons of noblesse oblige and the limitations of the Freelander class. His mother died in childbirth. He was raised by his father to be a leader.

At the age of eighteen - in 621 ATA - he rebelled from his heritage, forsaking the martial life for leisure and women. He was sent from Darkwater to stay with distant cousin Tomassa Zahir at Bramblestone Keep and relearn some semblance of discipline while making connections with the Forest District Zahirs.

Discipline came to Thayndor in 623, in the form of a brutal duel with Demetrius Da Voe, a much older Freelander claiming noble birth. The loss of the duel wounded Thayndor's pride; a renewed interest and proficiency in the martial arts was the scar tissue that now protects his ego.

When Moldor Zahir died later the same year, Thayndor Zahir inherited the Castle, the Deepers and all the responsibility coming with it. The death of his father forced Thayndor to revisit all the old lessons crafty Moldor Zahir had taught him; all the wise words and advice both accepted and ignored; and, most importantly, the realization that for all his faults Moldor Zahir had lived well and died happily of old age. In death, Moldor Zahir gained much higher esteem from his son than he held in life.

In 627 ATA rumors began to circulate that Thayndor Zahir was Shadow-Touched. The rumors explained much: the strange absences and long periods out of contact that some say cost him his Imperial Council position, his willingness to travel beyond the Aegis and to risk contact with the Shadow, his apparently complete comfort in all but the most extreme weather conditions.

As the snow ceased to fall in 628 ATA, Thayndor disappeared one day. One afternoon he was at Darkwater Keep, and the next -- gone.

Three months later he returned at Eventide Keep, to Voreyn Zahir, in the form of a massive beast. He had lost control of his Shadow powers and come, inexplicably, to Voreyn. He was chased off the Keep grounds with arrows, outlawed from Zahir territory, and later turned himself in for violating the Syladris Amendment.

After serving one month in royal prison, he was released on the recommendation of the Imperial Cult to Night's Edge, where he was to complete the task of regaining control of his powers. It was a controversial decision, and the furthest extension of the Cult's tenuous new belief that one can walk with the Shadow without falling to it.

House Zahir welcomed him back into its fold, taking his lands but promising him a return to title should he complete his sentence.

He later completed his sentence and has fulfilled his duty to Royal Law. But not, or perhaps never, to public opinion.

Where Is He Now?[]

Thayndor is free to roam the Kingdom -- and, indeed, the world -- having completed his sentence with the Imperial Cult.

He's widely regarded with suspicion for many reasons; the proof of his potent Shadow abilities, which he does not appear to completely control, is only one of them.

The Battle for Crown's Refuge is, for many, entirely his fault -- he would point out that the battle occurred because an evil man wanted a useless artifact Crown's Refuge would not have handed over anyway. That argument, of course, falls on deaf ears most of the time, and so Thayndor is himself regarded as either proud, a fool, or both, and headstrong any way it's sliced.

This is tempered somewhat by his well-known exploits in the battle itself. Along with three Deepers -- including the captain of his personal guard, Shar Ashleather, who died in the fight, and Otto Stonefish -- he fought along the ramparts of the Refuge's curtain wall where the tides of war turned against the acarit menace. That he backed up his decisions with his own life, and went on to fight and win, does not completely eclipse the distaste some Wildlanders still have for him. But it appears to help.

His refusal to turn back previously, during the expedition to Crown's Refuge that revealed it had become a fully developed city -- a refusal thwarted by mutiny, engineered thanks to his second in command, Lucius Nepos -- reinforces that headstrong reputation. And, for others, confirms Thayndor's lack of concern for his own life, and/or the lives of others.

He's also proven himself as an able liar who trusts next to no one and sees no problem manipulating others to further whatever agenda he sees as best. But some people put their faith in him, others can't help liking him, a few must deal with him, and, though he's not presently officially in ownership of Darkwater Keep, he has a cadre of loyal followers who can carry out his will.

Yet, strangely, Thayndor has gone out of his way more than once to help others. He has occasionally been known for brutally honest advice, and has summoned more than one potential enemy, given truthful counsel, and demanded only that the person choose a side -- friend or foe. The combination of deceit, honesty, valor and viciousness makes him an enigma.

With his return to nobility and new freedom, he's less powerful, and his reputation is in shambles. But he remains as unpredictable as ever.

Quotes[]

Thayndor Zahir frowns halfway through sitting at Norran's table, his left hand on the table's edge. "Did you hear that?" His eyes follow Vhramis to the trapdoor as the young Noble straightens, his hand on the hilt of a longsword in his scabbard.

Soram Nillu sets his goblet down, leaning back slightly in his chair. "Hmm?" He raises an eyebrow at Joran, then at Thayndor. "I didn't hear anything."


The calm of the night is almost peaceful, with the hush of the breeze bringing a soothing tone to an otherwise unremarkable night.

"Kyaaaaaaah!"

An unremarkable night that is abruptly broken by a distant battle cry.

Thayndor Zahir bolts upright, drawing an arrow from the quiver at his back and nocking it to the string of his longbow. "Did you hear that?" Asks the leather-clad Deeper, glare from the firelight dancing along the oiled surface of his armor.

Dradin draws his crystal dirk slowly from his belt. "Yup," he replies to Thayndor quietly.


Vhramis remains still and silent for a long moment, before exhaling slowly as his body seems to relax noticably. "Light," he mutters, making his way over to one of the chairs at the table and sinking into it. "Don't touch it at all, despite what I said before. He's coming."

"Good," Thayndor chirps, looking between Vhramis and Wilesly. "A guest. Should we prepare tea?"

Wilesly for once doesn't appear to be in good humor, casting as close to an annoyed glance as a commoner should to a nobleman, which is to say he overdoes it a bit. He moves towards Vhramis and waits without a word, his hand still remaining in place over his scabbard. "To what purpose?", Sly asks a bit apprehensively.

"I don't think he'll take tea," murmurs Vhramis, voice a bit dry. "He's a Drake. Like the one we rode. And he's not very happy that I kept the orb the Archmage gave me." He considers the two for a moment, before smiling a bit wryly. "She Who Protects is gone. She left after the natural balance was restored, or so I was told. And, in her place, there is now another Drake. A red one."

Thayndor Zahir pales, eyes shifting from left to right as he takes a step back. "You were conversing with a Drake. A Drake that chose not to be heard by either of us." A nervous laugh. "I see ... I see that you've some complexity in your dementia. Unless ..." He looks from Vhramis to the orb. "A Drake is coming /here/." Terrible belief oozes into the lines of his young face.


"It's just as well I'm not hearing a conversation between two people who don't exist in the first place," the passing rider says, presumably to himself. Moonlight reveals Thayndor Zahir astride Stringer, eyes squarely on the road ahead. "Although misplaced ears are sometimes an asset." He exhales as he passes the group on the road, angrily kicking his horse to a trot.

The last words star-crossed strangers can hear:

"The problem with being a serpent," says a young voice suppressing anguish, "Is no matter how many times you shed your skin, underneath there's always scales."


"You see, Adaer, I know you're a liar. I know you lit your arm on fire in an attempt to implicate one of my kin as a Shadow-Touched. I know you failed. As I told the Emperor when he raised exactly this point, I had hoped you had learned something of deceit in that endeavor. That you had become a -better- liar. One rule you should have learned was: don't try a lie when you can't get away with it. And in this, Adaer, there is no chance of escape." Thayndor's neutral, pleasant expression drops into a scowl. "So out with it. What shade possessed you to go to Sweetwater? What scheme of blackmail or treachery could you possibly have had up your sleeve?"


Relentless, the Zahir's mouth presses against Sahna's until salty tears drip onto his palate. He pulls away, reaching out with his tongue to capture a single bead of moisture from Sahna's bottom lip. And smiles a serpent's smile, a viper watching helpless prey.

"There ..." The word is long, slow, sinister in its joy, as if he had scratched a long-troubling itch. He watches Sahna cry, hands on her shoulders, soiling her elegant garb now with darkly-drying blood. "There is that hurt. That /pain/. Exquisite, isn't it? Mind-shattering, is it not, in sharpness and intensity?" No passion in his voice; no, all of that went into that last long kiss. "Remember this feeling well, Sahna. The darkness of soul so complete you wish you could die but know you cannot."

Thayndor's hands tighten and push, nudging Sahna away roughly but not forcefully. "Remember how it feels to have my blood on your hands, smeared on your body, evidence and explication of the extent of your treachery. Never forget it, Sahna."

The Lord of Darkwater steps away, cold eyes taking in her image with one final sweep. "I came here because I felt intensely what it means to experience betrayal. And you, Sahna -- we have found your heart. We have found your heart and forced it to feel what it means to betray someone you love."

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