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Name: Clip

Pseudonyms:  Clip of the Exiled

Age: Nineteen

Race: Tiste Andii 

Warrens: Kurald Galain

Further info: A Bluerose Tiste Andii

Titles : Herald of Mother Dark, Mortal Sword of Darkness, 


Ordant Brid of the Onyx Order : Silchas Ruin, your guide shall be the Mortal Sword of the Black Winged Lord.” (RG)


He is charged by the Onyx Order to guide Silchas Ruin to the Refugium and the soul of Scabandari Bloodeye.


'Born in Darkness.  Blessed by our Mother.  The first in thousands of years -- she turned away, you know.  From her chosen sons.  Thousands of years?  More like tens of thousands.  But not from me.  I can walk the Darkness, Acquitor.”  He waved his chain-spinning hand back towards the others.  “Not even Silchas Ruin can make that claim.” (RG)



Tall, thin, his midnight black hair long, straight and unbound; his face unlined, the features somewhat hooded, eyes like firerock, the man reached into a fold in his faded black hide shirt and withdrew a length of thin chain, both ends holding a plain finger-ring -- one gold, the other silver.  A quick flip of his right index finger spun the rings round, then wrapped them close as the chain coiled tight.  A moment later he reversed the motion. (RG)

The tone of his skin was dusky, not much different from that of a Tiste Edur. (RG)


Clip to Wither :    - , I am a cauldron of failures.  Nerek, Letherii -- even D’rhasilhani.”     -  “And Tiste Andii.” (RG)




“Not hard,”  Clip said.  “Just don’t hold it at the sharp end and poke people with it until they fall over.  I’ve yet to face a warrior with a spear I couldn’t cut to pieces.” (RG)


Possessed by the Dying God in Toll the Hounds


"We thought we'd driven the Dying God from you – instead, we drove him deeper.  By destroying his temple, the cavern realm where he dwelt." - Kedeviss (TtH)



General References 


The young archer, nineteen years of age, was not alone in his rejection of the stolid, outdated ways of the Onyx Wizards.  And like many of his compatriots of similar age -- the first generation born to the Exile -- he had taken a name for himself that bespoke the fullest measure of that rejection.  Clan name cast away, all echoes of the old language -- both the common tongue and the priest dialect -- dispensed with.  His clan was that of the Exiled, now.

For all these gestures of independence, a direct command delivered by Ordant Brid, Reve Master of the Rock among the Onyx Order, could not be ignored.

And so the young warrior named Clip of the Exiled had exited the eternally dark monastery of Andara, had climbed the interminable cliff wall, eventually emerging into hated sunlight to travel overland beneath the Blinded Stars of day, arriving at an overlook above the main pass. (RG)



Nimander : Mortal Sword of Darkness.  Is that protection enough? But he feared it was not.  Feared it, because he did not believe Clip was the Mortal Sword of anything. (TtH)


"I was Herald of Dark,"  he said.

"I doubt it,"  she said.

"I was Mortal Sword to the Black-Winged Lord, to Rake himself."

"He didn't choose you, though, did he?  You worshipped a god who never answered, not a single prayer.  A god who, in all likelihood, never even knew you existed." -Kedeviss - (TtH)





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