Illuvataar is a last name, for those of you who have read my brothers scripts, and many have been confused by this, so let me clear it up one last time: Illuvataar is my brother, and Illuvataar is his and my last name, he simply took his last name as his first, seeing as his original first name was something quite horrible and in fact un-spellable.

Why did his parents name him this horrible name, which I dare not speak as he hates that name and is sitting right beside me?  Who knows, it probably all has to do with Firbolg parents giving birth to a Lurikeen I guess (we took him to the mages in Tir na Nog and they just laughed at us, and told us to give the baby back to the parents).

I am a Firbolg, and walk the Path of Focus, just as my brother Illuvataar does, except I walk it as a Hero, he as a Ranger.  Of course, having the same blood ties in the same generation means we can't fight together, I have no idea why this is, it's just some dumb rule someone on the other side of the veil or someplace made up.

My distant cousin, Ancalagonn will be here in about a week, to tell you her stories, but now it's my turn to tell the stories.

I am only 48, but I still wreak havoc on the battlefields, in keep defense I am an indispensable Warlord.  Upon reaching Master Level Two I received the ability to instantly cast a massive healing spell which has many a time saved keeps from almost certain doom.

One of those times was a defense against a huge Albion horde, which was at Dun Crimthainn and they outnumbered us two to one.  However we had many an Eldritch in our ranks, and even when the wall was cracked if the attempted to climb through the large hole they made they would get hit by bolt after freezing bolt.

Eventually, however, we had to face the fact that we could NOT hold out indefinitely, and would either have to surrender the keep or launch an attack, and since surrendering was out of the question someone was going to have to lead an assault.

WHY I was nominated I don't know, but I took the job and we pushed them back to the tower they had so easily taken earlier.  I built a ram at their doorstep and pushed it against those doors many times, and hot oil continuously poured down on my back, but I kept my seat in the ram with many healing spells mending my burnt and broken skin.  Finally the door was open, and we rushed inside.

Those stupid Ice Wizards held us back for at least an hour! Animist pets fell in a single point blank area spell, rendering them useless, and they just kept blowing our warriors down the steps.  Of course no Convokers were present, which meant no power trap, which meant they could keep casting as long as they wanted.  But suddenly great cracks appeared in the tower walls, and stones and shot came raining inside from the walls of our keep.

Lucky for us the wizards and other casters couldn't concentrate while this was going on so we rushed them, killing them all and easily taking the tower back. However now Dun Crauchon was under attack and…oh wait…that's another story for another day…

Never mind, I'll tell you another story, back when I was only forty-four years of age and fighting in Leirvik, when the Emain convention wouldn't allow us to go there beyond that point.  We had every outlying tower, but the Mid's still controlled the Central Keep.  We put more than ten holes in that keep, but there was still a full group of Mid's defending the central tower, which meant that we couldn't live long enough to get a ram up on the door.

We were at the point of just giving up and going home when we received word that two full groups of warriors from my guild, Outreach, were coming to help.  This made me ecstatic; surely there would be more than a few healers in there, and at present we had none!

They got here, in full battle gear with their shields and cloaks bearing the guild emblems upon them.  I realized I didn't have the guild emblems on, but a master alchemist gladly produced a new shield and cloak with the emblems upon them.  And now I stood atop the wall of the enemy fortress, dressed in full black with my ivory wreath with Opals set in it, and my weapon and my shield crackling with lightning. Bolt after Bolt streaked out of the tower towards me, and I blocked each one, and when I sensed that their power was spent I moved to place a ram upon the door.

Three full groups of my friends helped me as I pounded on the door, until finally a smashing blow directly on the lock shattered it, and I could hear the wooden beam that was holding the door close snap behind it, and the door swung open, taking a poor Kobold by surprise.

He was down in an instant.  We rushed up the tower and all over the roof and the balcony, killing twelve more Mid's, a couple of stealther's had sneaked into the keep while we weren't looking.  I brought my hammer down on the head of the Keep Lord, a massive troll, more ugly than he was large, and boy, huge wasn't the one thing this guy wasn't, he stood a full two feet higher than me and three feet wider.

He took one swing at me with his huge club and shattered my wreath.  I was REALLY not happy about that, I believe I remember telling him so as I stomped my new boots into his face and beat his lights out with my hammer until he finally surrendered the keep and fled.

More stories another time kids, there's a Pooka with my name on it waiting in the Cursed Forest.