The Swordsman

Have At Them


SECRET ID : Malcom Hemming
ARCHETYPE : Scrapper
ORIGIN : Magic
PRIMARY : Broadsword
SECONDARY : Regeneration
GLOBAL ID : @theBandit
Instilled with the powers of the Life Mages of the Circle of Thorns during a ritual gone wrong. Malcom supplements these powers by using a big nasty sword, an axe and a wand he took while escaping from the Circles clutches.

Slash, Hack, Slice, Parry, Whirling Sword, Fast Healing, Dull Pain, integration, Resilience, Hasten, Super Speed, Axe of Undead Slaying, Blackwand


-The Beginning-
Not everyone is born to be a hero. Not everyone wants to be a hero. However, not everyone gets a choice in the matter. Malcom was one such person whose life was dramatically changed following a family picnic in Perez Park when Malcom and his family were abducted by the Circle of Thorns to be used in their dark rituals.

Taken to a secret cave deep in the middle of Perez Park, the Circle of Thorns split up his family with 4 separate groups taking a member of his family. Malcom was terrified and mortified about what was going to happen to his family. But what could he do? He was just an accountant and having never taken an interest in sports he was physically unable to fight with the fanatics that had his family.

While not a religious man, Malcom prayed to whoever may be listening to save his family. He didn't care about himself, but he couldn't bare the thought of his family being subjected to the dark magic. As he was lead along the twisting passages he also realised that even if he did somehow manage to escape it would be near impossible to find his way out again. Realising this he sunk into depression, withdrawing into himself and becoming oblivious to his surroundings and his captors.

He was brought out of his catatonic state by a swift, hard slap. As his eyes refocused he saw a tall, broad man with a bald head dressed in elaborate and eloquent green robes standing before him. He must have been their leader as the other brown robed figures prostrated themselves to him. The man dressed in green rambled on about something to do with this being an honour that he could assist in the dark act to come. He stared at him in mute silence. His life was over. There was nothing he could do. He wept openly.

The brown figures rose to their feet and took up positions around him and once in their pre-designated spots begun a low chant. The man dressed in green stood slightly in front of the circle, his chanting higher and louder than any of the others. A green mist began to form in the air around Malcom and he felt himself lifting off the ground. He was only vaguely aware of what was going on as some strange power was dulling all of his senses. Time passed as the green mist swirled about him. The brown robed figures voices started to become quicker and more frantic. The unintelligible words from the Mage dressed in Green also became frantic. Something was happening…

Slowly the world came back to Malcom. He could see that something definitely was not right. The green clad mans face contorted has he tried to maintain his focus. Some of the brown robed figures were looking around. Then Malcom heard it. Fighting. The sound of fighting. He was saved.

As if in defiance of Malcolm’s thoughts, the Green Mage refocused his full attention on the ritual at hand. Malcom could feel every inch of his body being pulled in different directions. The pain was excruciating. Bits of his flesh started to peel off and join the green mist that swirled like a tempest around him. Whoever was out there, who ever his saviour may have been. They were too late. The pain increased 100 fold as the ritual came to the climax. His body started to dissolve before his eyes. He prayed again that his wife and children would not have to endure this agony.

Then, something long and slim punched into the neck of the green Mage. It was an arrow. Blood spurted from the ruptured artery and the chanting stopped immediately as the green mage clasped his hands to this neck in an effort to stop the bleeding. The brown robed figures rose to their feet and charged at his saviours.

As the circle broke, so did the foul magic that was being employed. As if by some unseen vacuum, the green mist and pieces of his body that swirled about him were sucked back into his body as he dropped to the cave floor. He saw that reinforcements had arrived and were pressing his rescuers back.

Driven by an insane impulse, Malcom grabbed up the wand, which was tucked into the robes of the Green Mage, and in a quick decision headed in the opposite direction to the fighting. He needed to save his family. However, before he had taken 10 steps a robe figure appeared in front of him wielding a wicked looking sword which was at that very moment arcing down to split Malcom's skull in two. Protectively, he raised his arm and felt the blade bite deep into his arm, only stopping when it reached the bone. The robed figure tried to pull the blade free, but it had become lodged in the bone. Malcom, with out reason, found himself drawing the wand he had got from the mage and pointed it at the robe figure, blasting him with a brilliant bolt of energy. The figures hand slipped off the blade and he slumped to the floor.

Malcom over come with adrenaline and some internal well of power he had not felt before ripped the sword free of his arm. The pain was extraordinary, but ws quickly supressed as he needed to find his family.

The next portion of his life was just a blur and he remembers only shadows of what actually happened as he tore through the cavernous complex with a fury which would have been envied by the fiends of hell themselves. He could feel the cuts and the blasts of magic hitting him, but the thought of his family drove him ever forward.

How much time passed he doesn't know, but when he finally came back to his senses, he was standing in front of 3 strange people with his family (one dressed like a rhino, one in a strange purple outfit and the other… while he knew he was there, was shrouded in a darkness so black and impenetrable that it was impossible to determine anything about the figure. The man in purple bade him farewell and reminded him to come by the address on the card and that they need to check out the other lead as the Fortune Teller wasn't there.

Card? Looking down he saw that he held a card. The words across the top read "New Defenders of the Southern Cross". He slipped it into his pocket, there would be time to look into what ever the company was later and turned to embrace his family. He saw in their eyes a mix of emotions and then almost immediately his 2 kids start yabbing at 100 miles an hour about how their dad, Malcom Hemming was a hero. A true Hero. Retelling the escape from the cavern and how he had single handedly defeated 100 villains. Malcom looked to his wife. He saw that she was admiring him in a way she had never before. He asked her "Is it true?"… "Yes Malcom. You are a hero." With those words she wrapped her arms around his neck with such force that he thought his head might pop off his shoulders. He felt her tears on his face as she cried for both joy and relief. His kids danced around them wielding sticks as though they were swords, slaying imaginary foes, yelling all the time "Beware, I am the Swordsman!". He realised that he still had the sword he had taken from the first robed figure. But the vicious cut in his arm was gone. Had he imagined it… or was it something else. He did feel different…

Two thoughts passed through his head as he took his family home…
I am a Hero; and
The Swordsman… every hero has a catchy name!

- The Present -

Watch this Space

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