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Author Topic: Xa'al of Nyrax, the Unredeemable  (Read 155 times)

Raposa

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Xa'al of Nyrax, the Unredeemable
« on: February 02, 2025, 02:53:32 PM »
Xa'al of Nyrax

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"My lord, by your hand, I have been thrust into a land where even hope dares not linger. And yet, I do not feel despair — I feel purpose. The world is soaked in shadow, every corner filled with the whispers of the damned, and it is here, in the darkest of realms, that I shall rise. The weak would cry for salvation in a place like this. I only wonder how much of it is mine to take. After all, one cannot exile a monster to a world of nightmares and expect it to fear the dark. Bene patere, Supremus."
- Xa'al of Nyrax, 780 BC


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The Core beckons...

To try and fathom the mind of such a monster is a fool’s errand, for it is a mind devoid of all but a single, terrifying impulse: to rend the world asunder. There is no reasoning with such creatures. There is no redemption to be found. Only death, despair, and the cold certainty that nothing — nothing at all — can stop the rise of a villain whose very existence is the embodiment of pure evil. Who or what could have hurt him so bad? What sort of atrocities may have taken place in this knight's life to deliver such a faithful heart unto darkness.

Perhaps it has something to do with Nyrax. Yet, what is Nyrax? A location? An unholy vow? A secret cult? A deity?

None can claim knowledge of it.

This is a tale not of good and evil, but of something far more twisted. In a world where hope is but a fleeting whisper, the dark knight is almost a natural byproduct of it. His mind is not one to be understood, nor is it meant to be. There is no real morality in his thoughts, no permanent reason in his actions, only a singular hunger for domination and destruction for a greater, mysterious purpose. He does not seek to rule the world; he seeks to bask in its depravity. Every act, woven into a tapestry of pure malevolence, where mercy is a distant myth and forgiveness a forgotten dream.

Thus, the dark knight ventures into the many domains of the Core, a place where the very fabric of reality twists and churns. He, who commonly stood alone in somber contemplation and prayer, now seeks the unthinkable — alliances with those who would otherwise be beneath his contempt. He seeks not companionship, but a means to an end. For in the twisted corners of the Core, among the most treacherous sites, lie the keys to the power he craves. Whatever unholy entity he worships does not care for the blood spilled in these alliances. It does not care if the dark knight consorts with thieves, monsters, or even the very beings of holy light he had always despised. What matters is the acquisition of power, the wealth to mold the world into something far darker.

He will use false companionship as a stepping stone, gaining trust where there is none to spare, all while carefully accumulating power and wealth. He must press on, furthering his onyxian ambitions when the world’s eyes are turned elsewhere.

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« Last Edit: February 10, 2025, 12:17:21 PM by Raposa »
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Raposa

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Re: Xa'al of Nyrax, the Unredeemable
« Reply #1 on: February 02, 2025, 03:25:00 PM »
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Day 2, June, 780 BC

I find myself still in disbelief over this turn of events. It was only hours ago that I concluded my nightly prayers. The red candles  set aflame upon polished skulls burned dutifully as I drew the inverted triangles around my spiked altar. On my knees, I remained, gauntlets clasped in fervent supplication for ruination and profanation of all that exists. As the sweat beaded on my brow, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through, followed by an unnatural fog. And then… the temple vanished. The sanctuary was gone, replaced by dense, shadowed woods. I walked, driven by an impulse, as far as my boots could carry me.

I do not know how I arrived here, but one thing is clear: I cannot return. The same thick fog that brought me here now blocks my way. This is divine intervention, unmistakably so. But the question lingers... why?

It wasn't long before I encountered the 'locals', calling me 'newly misted.' How quaint. A petname for outlanders, no doubt. To be expected from such archaic minds. They call themselves Barovians. Their city reeks of decay, the air thick with the stench of bodily waste and suffering. A glorified slum, centered around a mysterious castle, a truly fitting sight for such a dark realm. Still, I could see past the putrid air and feel the palpable dread and malice that permeated this place. That satisfies me deeply. I feel right at home in this land of strife, where pain and fear are the currency of existence.

The locals gave me wary glances, no doubt disturbed by my dark attire. How amusing. "The scary one", they whispered among themselves. So cute. Among them, I met a few notable individuals, ones who led me down to 'The Drain,' the city's underbelly, a haven for the wicked, where I found shelter and sustenance. It is almost poetic how the Barovians, so quick to judge, are deeply entwined in the local drug trade. I wasted no time aiding their efforts, for what could be more fitting than to have them wallow in their own intoxication? Let them choke on it, my only hope is that their impure bodies may one day fall before me, ripe for desecration.

Soon, I was called upon to confront the local threats: oversized vermin, maddened Fey, bandits, and the typical undead. All handled by blade and ritual amongst my 'allies' - strange people I had never thought I would side with. Some carry themselves with unawarranted righteousness and bright white colors, clearly paladins or similar holy crusaders in shining armor, yet they remain oddly docile in my presence. Hah, as long as I help them defeat these enemies, I bet.

It did not take me long to secure the hands of a craftsman who was happy to receive the coin quickly acquired from drug smuggling and other dark deeds. I obtained a proper weapon, shield and armor. Sure to last me long. Long enough, that is.

So much blood has been spilled already. With every battle, my bond with my Master deepens. I can feel my power swelling, and with each passing week, I grow stronger. The unholy rites must continue, and I must taunt the full moon with my words of ruination. Perhaps with more training and souls damned to my Master, I am going to be able to tackle places entirely on my own and forsake the assistance from those clowns, although a reliable ally would prove useful. There is much yet to be done.
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Raposa

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Re: Xa'al of Nyrax, the Unredeemable
« Reply #2 on: February 10, 2025, 12:16:20 PM »
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Day 4, September, 780 BC

At last, Fall is upon us. Winter looms near, its bite already carried in the wind. A forewarning of harsher days to come.

I have achieved much. My power swells, an undeniable boon from forces beyond mortal comprehension. Yet I must tread carefully, lest I succumb to the very darkness I seek to harness.

These so-called ‘adventurers’ remain a persistent vexation. They saddle me with insipid pet names, attempt to define my purpose, and force ill-fitting labels upon me.

Preposterous.

Of the countless absurd titles assigned to me by the locals, none are as ludicrous as their baseless assumption that I have a wife, fabricated entirely from idle speculation and rumor.

I am scrutinized for my attire, my silence, my natural inclination toward solitude, even for the way I find beauty in the decay of this world. But I cannot afford the luxury of being selective with my company. For now, I must endure this farcical entourage. Wealth begets power, and power will bring me what I seek.

Not all is tiresome grievance. I have crossed paths with figures of interest: a half-drow devoted to The Vaunted, fluent in my own familiar Undercommon; a wizard girl with an affinity for violence to rival my own, ever eager to amass coin and sow suffering. I have studied fragments of parchment, whispers in the dark, and tales of spies lurking in shadow. This land is treacherous, as expected, and I must remain vigilant.

The quiet mornings offer maddening respite. My training in herbalism, gleaned from the sect, has proven invaluable. I can bend the flora to my will, ensuring sustenance and fortification for the battles to come.
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