The Praetorian Arrow


 * PlaceholderClass: Hunter
 * Electissimus: Isam D'lanastion
 * Uniform: [Grand Survivalist][Captain]

In the Beginning
It all began with a need.

The hungering need that gnaws at the stomach of those that are of high standing is something that cannot befall deaf ears. As they writhe and squirm whilst mortality begins to overcome their ignorance, it Is the duty of those who are beneath them to aid – so that the heralds for a brighter future shall live in bliss and without the worry of poverty which all common man shall face once within his short-lived lifetime.

It was all pushed by an idea.

As Tyetus D’lanastion presses the sole of his sabaton against the soft, wet earth, there’s an eerie calm which sets upon the atmosphere itself; the nearby enemies have not taken notice to the rather deadly silence that typically would’ve entailed harmony, were it not for the circumstances. His latex-coated palms pressed between the blades of grass – breathing should remain steady, cache balanced so that the inhales and exhales are evenly paced. Eyes intent; a Quel’dorei must remember the dominance in which the populace as a whole has appointed unto their soldiers. He drew in a sharp breath, the intoxicating scent of dew, Eversong’s eternal spring and the atmosphere itself filling his lungs with the gesture, leaving him on the brink of ecstasy. Here was the true structure of the High Kingdom – that which was to be revered for years to come, and then some. His cerulean eyes pierced through the sable night; hallowed cheeks painted to the fullest extent to mask him amongst the green and subtle, rolling texture of the pertaining area, he remained an elusive figure, almost relatable to his Kaldorei ancestry. It was only after a brief moment more that he moved with a deft gesture – and then came the snapping of vines, the course snap of a rather cruel knot of nylon as it twisted in chaotic movements around several trunks and various sects of the valley. Supple boots formed to his feet, an agile figure that was comparable only to his bloodline – it proved rather useful when scurrying elsewhere in order to gain access to the alternative ranges in which he resided. A circle of trees – high grasses which only emphasized the prowess in which the hunter moved with.

He made knots – one by one, loop by loop, until the lengths of rope were stretched sufficiently. At the centre of the entire display, there lay a small trigger; invisible lines which led to the branches were thence connected to slings which were readied with long shafts – poison-tipped arrows, readied for introduction. Tyetus stepped back, if only to admire his work.

That chesire-cat grin, hallowed face and rather indefatigable confidence – the cruel, sadistic turn of his smile as his ‘prey’ began to slowly approach, on the hunt as much as he had been.

The new Marshal lay within the grass, uncaring of further result. No, this wasn’t something that was intended to keep his catch alive – he had no interest within it whatsoever after a particular point.

The wicked gleam in his baby blue eyes told the horrid truth that would live on in the hearts of his brethren and children as long as they were willing to remember.

The scream only accented it.

This was a death trap.

And all too soon, those that were seen as prey would find their fate in the trigger.

The Regiment
During the finality of the troll wars, a son of Derien took it upon himself to skill within various different techniques which were formally familiarized with Farstriders, rangers, etc. Within such research and passionate strive, a descendent of a second-son, Tyetus D’lanastion the first, would soon combine the traits of an Incubi and Farstrider – save the moral – to create what we at the Bloodsworn recognise today as a ‘Marshal’. The formation of the Praetorian Arrow took place several years into the initial wars themselves; derived from a branch which selectively trained agile Incubi in trapping and hunting, it came forth due to the willingness and strife implied by those which were taken into the division itself.

Today, skilled within the arts of toxicology, trapping, hunting, mechanical death-traps, survival and outdoorsmen-ship, the Marshals of the Praetorian Arrow are revered throughout the house of Derien, as well as the organisation itself.

- Grand Survivalist
Requires level 85; requires maximum item level: The Grand Survivalist of the Praetorian Arrow is who the most-learned Marshal of the organisation is. Revered for pure ancestry concerning the House of Derien, the Grand Survivalist comes from a line of Incubi and Marshals, each who preserve the traditionalistic of the hunter. Specialised within all aspects expected of Marshals, well-versed in the lore of the organisation and monarchy, the Grand Survivalist strives to perfect his division and train each to aspire to a greater, pure blooded fate. Uniform: See ‘Captain’. Mount; White or black hawkstrider.

- Captain (Sub Officer)
Requires level 65; The Captain of the Praetorian Arrow is one who has obtained ultimate knowledge of the organisation, lore behind the Arrow, marksmanship, traps, survival and hunting. To be promoted to this rank, one must undergo multiple trials, as chosen by the Grand Survivalist themselves. Uniform: Brutal Gladiator’s mail (70) armour. Mount: Hawkstrider (pref. black).

- Carrion-Caller
Requires level 40; The Carrion Caller of the Praetorian Arrow is a machine primed to monger war and death itself. Serving as the rank above a Marksman, it is the third enlistment rank achievable by those that do not undergo a ‘Test of the Absolute’. Trained within the arts of toxicology, preparing wild beasts for combat, as well as waging themselves against nature on several occasions the Carrion Caller specialises within fending off, and bringing others to a certain death.

- Marksman
Requires level 20; The Marksman of the Praetorian Arrow is defined as the rank which succeeds the Marshal. It is required that each holder of this rank undergo a ‘Trial of Blood’, as beheld by the division and chosen by the Grand Survivalist or a Captain.

- Marshal
Requires level 15; The Marshals of the Praetorian Arrow are those that are of the lowest significance to the division as a whole. This rank is temporary; this rank serves as a holder for hunters who patiently await a trial administered by their commanding officers.