The Demon of Athaerûn [NPC]

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The Old Wolf
Posts: 13
Character: Faolan

The Demon of Athaerûn [NPC]

Post by The Old Wolf » November 20th, 2018, 12:20 pm

Image
Artist Rendition, Deserts of Prodai


Among the many stories told, it is said that [REMOVED] was born within the arid deserts of Prodai, the illegitimate son of a Bhaskarian sell-sword and a dark-skinned mystic. Shamed, as they were, by the defeat of their peoples to the Venerated Republic, it is said they marked [REMOVED] with blood magic which turned his skin as pale as the moon, and his hair as dark as ink. And so, to avenge their people, the cursed child was abandoned within the commissary of the local garrison. It was here that [REMOVED] had found the swaddled babe, and took him into his protection. Of course, it could not be that the Decurion had forsaken his vows, and was left with a bastard of his own. Whatever the truth may be, [REMOVED] does nothing to squash these stories, and in fact has been known to throw fuel on the fire when and where he can. In truth, more is known of the myth than of the man, and that seems to grow with each passing day. Beneath the vast array of disguises, covers, and distractions, there exists a man forged by years of service to the [REMOVED], but more than that, to the Republic itself.


[REMOVED] would make any average male appear to be a titan. Yet, even at his limited height, the man presents a fierce countenance. Where a slender, but athletic, frame is usually concealed beneath the layers of his uniform or disguise, a thick ink-dark mane and pools of molten gold are defiantly displayed. Though a passing glance might not detect the man’s true identity, he is no true spy, and his costumes seldom hold up to heavy scrutiny. Beneath the array, [REMOVED] wields a brand on his left arm identifying him as a [REMOVED] with the markings of [REMOVED] Typically, the man wears [REMOVED], and will only don the typical [REMOVED] in ceremonial roles or when absolutely necessary to blend in.
Last edited by The Old Wolf on December 4th, 2018, 2:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.

The Old Wolf
Posts: 13
Character: Faolan

Re: The Demon of Athaerûn

Post by The Old Wolf » November 27th, 2018, 9:30 am

The Banners of War, Part I

[ACT V, Legion Storyline]

The Lost Legion





Valar...

It was a coarse whisper, no more than a haunting on the wind, a trembling thing uttered by a dying man. There was confusion in the young Torian's brown eyes. He didn't quite understand why things had to be this way. A gilded gauntlet clutching at the savage blade that had clawed through his armor like so many sheets of linen. The ceremonial armor was pretty, but it was heavy and offered very little protection against anyone who knew the weakest points. The young officer, Daeron Ashemark, had fallen in the field, the crimson and gold of his heavy cloak twisting around his broken form, and the men at his side, little more than outlaws, sellswords and murderers, were easily routed by the rest of the XXIVth's heavy infantry.

It was unfortunate that it ended this way. If only they had bent the knee, if only they had served the Auctoritas Imperium, things might have been different.

" Take no prisoners.. Tor will be ours. "

The Praetorian whispered, as he ripped the blade out of the dead man's sternum, and followed after the broken ranks of the First Torian -- a crimson blade in hand. And so, somewhere in the First Province, the horns of war bellowed, and banners of crimson and black filled the horizon.





The Old Wolf
Posts: 13
Character: Faolan

Re: The Demon of Athaerûn [NPC]

Post by The Old Wolf » February 2nd, 2019, 11:38 pm

Chapter I

Auctoritas Imperium



The Story Thus Far...

Prima Torii, the First Torian, otherwise known as the Lost Legion, the Dogs of Tor, and various other colloquial names, whose banners of crimson, black, and gold, once soared above the Heartwood under the guidance of such legendary commanders as Lillian Tiagra, Cassius Dacian, and Vance Silvercrest, were now regarded by High Command with great suspicion, having gone dark after the Fall of Tor. And so, it had fallen to Marshall Drakan, a centurion of the XXIVth Legion, and grizzled veteran of the civil conflicts which had threatened to consume the whole of Vitaveus’ heartlands, to discover the truth of the matter.

Tessarius Torrick Val'ar, a soldier formerly of the XXIVth legion, and right hand of the Praetor, or Grand Marshal, of the Republic's Military, had vanished shortly after being dispatched to the Eastern Provinces to establish an auxiliary force among the locals had gone rogue, claiming to have the authority to activate a new cohort under the banners of the long-since decommissioned VIIIth legion. Ultimately, the cohort was spread throughout the Eastern Province, with the most notable contubernium establishing itself in Fort Praesidium as the Seventh Contubernium under the guidance of Decurion Aldrich Eckhardt, eventually leading to the semi-permanent construction of a legion outpost to the North of Fort Praesidium in an effort to better respond to altercations along the established perimeter of Republic controlled territory.

In time, the Praetorian, was exposed as an operative of a rogue Speculatores unit with connections to the First Torian and a mysterious figure known by his followers only as “The General” and thought to have been killed by an unknown assassin armed with a crossbow. Though, no body was ever recovered. The XXIVth Legion has since taken over operations within the First Province, specifically in the rumbling pass, and in Fort Praesidium through an auxiliary force under the command of Vance Silvercrest.

The Old Wolf
Posts: 13
Character: Faolan

Re: The Demon of Athaerûn [NPC]

Post by The Old Wolf » March 24th, 2019, 10:53 am

Auctoritas Imperium

The Banners of War



It was as a river of ink, flowing gently against the solemn greys born of the twilight hour, a tenebrous tide which rippled and parted only to reveal a mortal man. His cloak swirled gently at the movement, revealing the dark colors beneath, this interrupted only by a few wayward shards of light which caught well-formed steel in orangish-red candlelight of the Cathedral's quiet hall.

Nearby, an aged legionnaire, long silvery tendrils flowing past his broad shoulders, dressed in his finest, stood beside a man in green. They conversed quietly with a woman, the Abbess as she had once been known, in her humble attire, near blind in that pre-dawn hour, but dutifully attending the chore of maintaining the Cathedral's cleanliness in a day when few concerned themselves with such aesthetics.

A pair of fingers, enclosed within dark and supple leather, touched the shrouded figure's forehead in a sign of reverence to the Altar of the Eight, and then he turned, throwing back the hood to reveal a face that seemed to be forged of the moonlight's pale light, and a thick mane as dark as the abyssal void from which the Flame is said to have been born. He was not so impressive in size, as he was exotic to look upon, a short man in a world of giants, with eyes of swirling gold, slanted slightly in a strange but pleasing manner.

"Eh't pleases me t' see y' again, Abbess."

His voice was quiet, a thick honey rolling gently across the near-empty hall, reminding any who might have known it, of the Highland's charming lilt. The man appeared unarmed, but the heavy cloak which concealed much of his stout frame could very well have been hiding a veritable armory. The legionnaire turned, peering over at the Praetorian's familiar form, he seemed shocked and relieved at the same time.

It was at this point that a meeting would occur between the four. An abbess, a legionnaire, an adjudicator, and an outlaw. What was said would be left to be told by those that met in the early hours of that fateful day, but one truth could be shared by all. No blood had been shed that day thanks to a debt owed to a orphaned child who had grown up within the shadows of Tor's slums.

And, as the meeting concluded, two shrouded figures left the district at the same time. One in black, the other in yellow; an outlaw and an informant, each going in their own direction to ready their banners for the coming days.

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