Editing Character:Wind of Lament (section)

=History=
The son of a camp follower and a mercenary, the mortal who would become Wind of Lament had seen more battles over petty Hundred Kingdoms land by the time he was 12 than most veterans see in their lifetime. It was during one of these that, in sudden confusion as enemy light horse overran the camp, he was retrieved for a greater destiny.
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As one of Mar's agents, Wind of Lament is well versed in warfare and combat, although he shows a particular affinity for battles over cities and towns - both sieges and their lifting. Sometimes this calls for a subtle hand - a gate guard bribed, a single well tainted - and sometimes more overt, guiding the Dragon Blooded Host to their wars. Regardless, he performs each with a certain flare and professionalism that has garnered him enough respect within the Crimson Panoply to overlook his somewhat tepid support for either faction.<br>
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''Fluff''<br> 
Wind of Lament read the orders once more to be sure, let out a soft sigh, and folded the script before tucking it carefully away in a pocket. Well then... <br> 

The streets of Heaven are quiet, for while there are teeming masses of gods, even they must someday sleep. The temptation to visit the Loom and look into its madness strikes, but the urge passes - there is work to be done. Footsteps, running but at a poor, stumbling cadence. The scribe then. <br> 


Resplendent Seeker, Chosen of Secrets rounds the corner, the young Sidereal skidding to a halt. Undoubtedly he wanted to discuss his history of the Realms campaigns in the Threshold more - he was particularly caught up in Wind of Lament's involvement in a miserable little battle called Seven Gates. A Dynast died a hero. A mercenary captain turned to drink. And a little boy who would grow up to be more died on the end of a spear. All was right in Creation. <br> 


"Not now." <br> 


"But..." <br> 


"Not. now." The agent of Mars turns toward home, for a quiver, a bow, and a sword. <br> 


"What's so importan..." the question is interrupted by a glimpse at a piece of folded paper. <br> <br> 


"But...that means Mars has..."<br> <br> 


"Yes, she's lifted the seal."<br><br> 


"Amazing! The political ramifications of that are..."<br><br> 


"None of my concern."
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