Phylodendron of Stonemane

Phylo, as he came to be called, wielding the axe Tyrants Eye.

Phylodendron is a Leonine adventurer from the Stonemane clan. Sent on a spiritual journey after the tragic death of his brother, Phylodendron soon joined up with the The Chaos Hounds, though was tragically killed. Some time later he was returned to life, subsequently claiming the title of Chief of the Stonemane Clan and becoming one of King Bill High-Hill's most trusted advisors.

## History

### Childhood

Born into a wandering tribe of the Stonemane clan, Phylodendron (Phylo) found himself with a weapon in hand from a young age. He began to engage in combat and sparring before he could walk, and eventually spent almost the entirety of his free time sparring his brother, Typhonodorum (Typho).

Phylo's parents were both noble warriors, each one leaders within the clan and highly respected. As is tradition, they raised their children to be warriors, themselves having tested themselves in battle many times. Most notable of these conflicts were the many border skirmishes they engaged in with The Holy City. It was Phylo's parents hope that one of their children would ascend to become chief of the clan, through the Rite of Battle.

Stonemane tradition dictated that all young warriors must partake in the Rite of Battle, and Phylo was no exception. During the Rite, prospective warriors would challenge the chief, being required to last until the last drop fell from a pitcher of water. Both Phylo and Typho dreamed of completing this Rite, to not only survive it but to one day defeat the chief and claim the title for themselves.

### The Death of Typho

With nothing more than common woodcutters axes, the two trained day and day out, for years. Despite the age gap, it was the younger Typho who proved to be the better warrior. Time and time again Typho won their contests, a growing sense of shame and resentment building within Phylo as a result. Not hatred for his brother, but a sadness that he was not able to keep up with him, and a fear that he would be left behind. After one particularly disheartening defeat, Phylo's frustration boiled over. Despite his brother's calming words, Phylo demanded a rematch.

The brothers axes clanged together, like a blur of silver the blades darted back and forth. Like always, Typho's speed and skill was slowly overcoming Phylo's strength. This time, however, would prove different. Attempting a move he had never tried before, Phylo kicked his brother in the chest with all his strength. Seeing Typho fly backwards, Phylo launches his axe at him, hoping to catch him off guard. When he turned to gloat, his heart shattered. He saw his axe embedded deep into Typho's chest, his baby brothers blood flowing from the wound.

Running to help him knelt down and pulled the axe from his chest, blood flowing even stronger from the gaping hole. As his Typho fell into Phylo's arms, the two brothers sat there for a moment, staring at one another. Typho smiled forgivingly at his brother, his blood stained paw reaching out to caress his cheek. Sobbing, Phylo began to plead with his brother not to go, to stay with him. Though, it proved to late. Typho was gone.

Unsure of what to do, Phylo waited with his brother in the field until someone came to find him. Soon, rain began to fall, and still Phylo waited. Devastated, he knew he should be punished. He needed to be punished. But Leonine culture is harsh, and death was a fact of life. Leonine were warriors. His father was the first to find the brothers. He stood for some time watching his sons blood pool in the rainwater, expressionless in the rain. He watched the blood soak into the earth, and breathed deeply. Stepping forward, he took Typho in his arms and nodded to Phylo

### The Rite of Battle

Word travelled throughout the village, and Phylo was asked to meet with the clan chief. And to bring his axe. Though most thought Phylo would avoid punishment, Phylo was glad to receive what he felt was required of him as penance. Meeting the chief in the challenge circle, where The Rite of Battle was held. The chief stood solemnly across the circle from Phylo, then began to speak. He told the young warrior that his brother had been foretold as a warrior of fate. Someone with a great destiny, who could help lead the Stonemane clan to a better future. By cutting his life short, Phylo had taken his destiny upon himself. Now, he would be tested to see if he was worthy of it. Phylo nodded, hoping more than anything that the chief would take his life. Returning Phylo's nod, the chief drew his weapon, then charged.

Like a blur, the chief exploded towards Phylo, who managed to dart backwards just in time. Unable to think clearly, Phylo gave in to the battle. Into the bloodlust. The two warriors clashed time and again, weapons surging forward and crashing into each other, foot dancing almost in unison. Phylo found a calmness in battle. Win or lose he didn't care. He just wanted to atone, however he could. Phylo continued to fight, to wait for his opening, as his brother would. After what seemed like an eternity, he found. Like a wave crashing into the sand, Phylo's pressure and assault slowly but surely overwhelmed the chief, until at last his weapon slipped from his grasp. Phylo knew then that the contest was over, that he had won. He had become chief. And it brought him no joy.

That night, as the rest of the clan slept, Phylo slipped away. He wasn't ready to be chief, he knew that. But there was something he had to do before he left. Heading to the Stoneman graveyard, an ancient cave system littered with the cairns of fallen warriors, Phylo searched for his brothers grave. He had never come to the graveyard at night, and soon became lost. Wandering through the shadows, Phylo tripped and fell, crashing through a section of loose ground into another cave below. Disoriented and dazed, Phylo felt a presence deeper in the cave calling to him. He lurched forward, unsteady on his feet. Eye's swimming, Phylo pushed towards the presence, until at last he fell to his knees at the foot of an altar.

Hanging from the lion shaped statue was a necklace, made of fang and claw. And the necklace spoke to him. It spoke of power, and sorrow, and destiny. And it spoke of his brother, and how to save him. Without a second thought Phylo snatched up the necklace and put on. He would save his brother, and use this necklace to do so.

## War on The Holy City

### The Flamefeather

Phylo found himself alone and without memory, his purpose in life changed. Through the help and guidance of his friend Alorin, he eventually reclaimed some of who he was, though he would forever be altered by his time in the Realm of Heroes.

Due to his increased power and the nature of his great deeds, Alorin and Wilhelm arranged a meeting with King Bill of The Highlands. Bill anointed Phylo as one of his champions, gifting a hidden veldt to rebuild his people. This new Pridestone Gulley would become the central home of the few Leonine left in Forestsedge. From here, Phylo began forming his people into a fierce and powerful fighting force.

Now one of King Bill's chief champions, Phylo sits at his right hand. Ever watchful, Philo has learned from his past to become the leader his people need him to be.