Author Topic: A Call To Arms - The Von Darrell's Legacy  (Read 1043 times)

whisper

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A Call To Arms - The Von Darrell's Legacy
« on: June 26, 2014, 03:06:42 PM »


Character soundtrack!
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V88ydbx5-4A[/youtube]



This is my only memory of my father, Sir Von Wylde Darrell, the right arm of King Azoun V, ruler of Cormyr. Until that winter morning I had never faced pain. I was only thirteen when I received this letter, along with the news of his death. I would never have known him, so remained only the will to make him proud, becoming a knight like him, a champion of justice. The tears in my mother's face were enough to make me give up being a knight and stay there, taking care of her and the farm. But she would not allow it. She prepared my backpack with clothes, provisions, some coins and said goodbye to her only son, who departed towards Suzail, the splendid capital of Cormyr.

I always knew I was not like other kids of my age. I never even had a cold, my wounds healed absurdly fast and I knew no fear. My mother suffered from a unknown illness and according to her, my touch were the only thing that relieved her pain. I had been chosen by the gods, but I just understood it years later. I could heal people, free them from various diseases, but I did not know that, she did, and even then she let me go, dying alone a few months later. No wonder that my father loved that woman.

I was welcomed with honors, my father was a respected hero and revered by all, including the king, who had my father as a great friend, mentor and confidant. He raised me side by side with his own son, Azoun VI, which over the years proved to be far different from his father. A arrogant kid, cruel and dishonorable. He hated me and at each compliment I received from his father made his hatred grew more and more.

I was trained by the best horsemen the Purple Dragon Knights and over the years, my duty to Tempus and the crown became my life. Despite my proximity to the king, I started low like all the others. I earned my place in the midst of sweat and blood in countless battles and wars against every kind of enemy and after 40 years I took the place of my father, as the right arm of the king, who by this time was already an old man. At this point I had already lost the counts on how many wars I had already fought and how many men I had already killed. Meanwhile, his son had become a master of the arcane arts and his cruelty became more visible each day. It would not take too long for that man become king and my fate was uncertain.

I had found love. Got married and had a beautiful daughter, Abra. Unfortunately I could not watch her grow as I'd like, but I did my best. As was to be expected, the king died. There were seven days of mourning throughout the country and on the eighth day, Azoun VI was proclaimed king. His first order was to declare war on Amn, for trivial reasons. I was dismissed from my job as a counselor and sent to every kind of battle, some with no hope of victory. I had sworn loyalty to the crown and the nation, but what that man was doing was not right and I died a little inside at each order received to war. He himself had never entered a battle, but never hesitated to send men to certain death.

However, my troubles had only begun. During a ceremony for the dead soldiers, the young king met my daughter, twelve years old at the time and decided that he would marry her. I tried to convince him by all means, told him that she was just a girl, that she was not ready and that he could choose any woman in the kingdom. It did not help. He wanted to hurt me. And there was nothing I could do to change his decision.

Knowing the cruel fate that awaited her, I sent her on a ship to cross the sea of Fallen Stars, towards Sembia, where allies would create her away from the claws of Azoun VI. I knew that by challenging the orders of that king, I would be condemning myself to death, but before being knight, paladin, or even man, I was a father.

I was accused of high treason. I lived a life of glory and I was ready to face my fate. However, the young and cruel king knew that. So he decided it would be a good idea to accuse my wife of conspiracy and condemns her to death in my place. When I received the news, I went to the beach where the condemned were tied to stakes and left the tide. However, it was too late. The tide was high that day, maybe for some caprice of the gods that I will never understand. My only action was entering the sea and try to save her body, but the royal guards would not allow , and some were my friends. I was tortured for a whole day and left for dead in a stake next to her.

My anger and my pain were bigger than death itself and the gods offered me revenge. Whom were these gods I do not know, but Tempus had turned his back on me and not even on my last breath I could feel his presence. I accepted the offer even though it would be condemning my soul forever. And I had my revenge. I killed one by one, all men involved in the death of my wife, ignoring the fact that they were just following orders. I did not care. I killed them all. From my legacy as a knight were left only the bards songs.

"He broke the laws of the elders
So they blocked out his eye,
Took his land and fortune,
Left him to die
Bound on the shoreline,
Left for the tide,
Seizes life, blood leaving...
Circling lower, the vultures fly
His bones may be broken
But the spirit can't die
And the Gods see his anguish
And give him a sign
From the floor of the ocean
The ship of the lost souls rise
And they take him where no one sleeps while the undead cry,
Where no one sleeps while the undead cry...
And in the world above
The elders sing,
On his land they live...
Let death bell ring

He was met at the gate of hell
By the Guardian of the lost souls,
The Keeper of the unavenged
And He did say to him:
"Let you not pass
Abandon
Return to the world
From once you came
And seek payment
Not only for thy known anguish
But vindicate the souls
Of the Unavenged"
And they placed in his hands
A sword
Made for him
Called: Vengeance
Forged in brimstone
And tempered
By the Wolf in tears of the unavenged
And to carry him up on his journey
Back to the upper world
They brought forth
Their Demon horse
Called: Black Death
A grim steed
So fiercely might
And black in colour
That he could stand as one: Darkness...
Save from his burning eyes
of grims and fire
And on that night
They rode up from Hell
The pounding of his hooves
Did clap
Like thunder "




Despite beeing coward, Azoun VI was a powerful arcane and we fought for hours, until I finally shoved that demonic sword in his heart. The king was dead. And I as well. My injuries were too severe and I just lay down on that field and waited for death.

It did not take long for her to arrive. That mist was not normal in Cormyr and I knew it was the gods demanding my debt. For the first time in my life I felt sick, weak and scared. But my revenge was done, Abra was safe and with the king's death, thousands of lives would be spared. So be it. Let the demons have theyr feast.

OOC: Since Dime is an old dude, I thought it would be better to play him as an "ex-high lvl", who got his arse kicked so hard that is still recovering his old form, very slowly. He made his peace with Tempus but he would never be a Paladin again, so, he became a priest.
« Last Edit: June 26, 2014, 03:44:53 PM by druidgrove »
Fight, till the last of the enemy is dead...
Ride, through their blood, that we gladly have shed!

whisper

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Re: A Call To Arms - The Von Darrell's Legacy
« Reply #1 on: June 27, 2014, 04:49:48 PM »
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgedurmhviE[/youtube]

The land beyond the mists

"I had accepted my fate and was ready to die. When I accepted that offer, at the gates of the halls of Tempus, I turned my back on everything I once believed. My soul was sentenced to the nine hells. Now I just needed to wait for death to come and everything would end. I always pictured hell as a scorching place, but I was freezing, surrounded by the strange mist. I finally closed my eyes, only to wake up in the arms of an old lady, whose words were completely incomprehensible to me.

I was in a kind of camp, surrounded by gypsies, who stared at me with a mixture of curiosity and fear. I dont know why, but they took care of my wounds, at least enough for me to keep me standing on my own feet. In the first moments I thought I was dead and that place was some kind of limbo, before eternal damnation. But if that were the case, why would they be taking care of my wounds? And I do not know why or how, but I could feel the presence of my daughter, she was near.

Where I was? Who were those gypsies?

I knew they could understand my words, but for some unknown reason, they kept using that strange language and calling me "Giorgio". I quickly understood that I was not entirely welcome there, there was not my place and soon I regained my strength, I left the camp and followed that dark road, leaving behind that mysterious people. Finally I found other people and some of them were talking in my language. I discovered I was in a realm called Barovia, a completely strange name to me. The natives looked at me like I was a monster and in a few days I saw things that made me sure that that place was not normal. I definitely wasnt in Cormyr anymore and probably not even in Faerun.

Would this be my punishment? Was this the fate that Tempus had chosen for me? I could not feel his presence anymore and I was scared as a little boy in the dark.

I only knew one thing: My daughter was here and I had to find her!"
Fight, till the last of the enemy is dead...
Ride, through their blood, that we gladly have shed!