Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Tales of D&D: Lucien Validus Stellatus

Descended from a celestial being who took a human wife several generations back, Lucien was no ordinary child. His father served as a cleric in the church of Heironeous and he instilled in his son the values that would eventually lead the young lad down the path to becoming a holy paladin of The Fist of Valor. Lucien was well liked as a child; he was energetic and charismatic, leading a band of local boys and girls on imaginary quests for Heironeous all about town. Even as a child, his celestial heritage shone forth with his golden blond hair and striking blue eyes.
At the age of nine Lucien became a page in the halls of the Temple of the Fist that was just a little ways up the mountain from their town. The paladins had often visited and their gleaming armor reflected in Lucien’s perfect blue eyes as he watched the ride by in dumbstruck admiration. He served for a number of years, slowly learning from the paladins whom he served devotedly. He excelled in all of his studies and became a quick favorite among the elders in the temple and the paladins he worked with. On several occasions he was allowed to accompany the holy warriors when they went out on a quest and began making a bit of a name for himself. “Lucien the Courageous” the y began calling him, for he would never back down from a challenge or waver in the face of evil.
Finally it came time for the boy to become a man. On his nineteenth birthday he was told that it was time for him to make his rite of passage and join The Fist of Valor as an anointed paladin in service to Heironeous the Invincible. The rite of passage for centuries at this temple has been to escort a monk of the fist as they begin their spiritual journey. Monks trained in the temple, at the completion of their training, were sent up the mountain to a sacred location to meditate for three days and nights with only one companion there to drive off the wild things and ensure the safety of the catatonic monk. The monk was supposed to meditate on his or her inner being and upon reaching the end of the third day, their path would become clear to them and they would embark on their spiritual journey. For some, that journey was a simple pilgrimage and completed easily, for some it became a lifelong task. Either way, upon returning from the rite of passage both candidates would be given the official title of monk or paladin of The Fist of Valor.
Lucien came to the elders ready and excited to begin his rite of passage. There he was introduced to a young monk-in-training with peach color hair. He introduced himself with a polite bow and soon they were off. They had to travel about half a day further up the mountain, deep in the eldritch forest there, before they found the circle of standing stones. Before entering the sacred place Lucien recited the prayer he was taught to consecrate himself and his escort. Then he prepared a special meal for his charge, it was a simple but filling meal with some herbs that would help the monk maintain her meditation for such a long time. Lucien’s last meal had been on the previous night. He was not allowed to eat or rest for the duration of the monk’s meditation. This was both a test of strength and endurance, meant to push you beyond your physical limits and rely on the power of Heironeous to make it through the trial.
After she had eaten, the monk began her meditation and soon she was whisked away into some sort of dream world which Lucien could only imagine. After a few hours of silence, so as not to disturb the newly entranced monk, he began to pray to Heironeous to bring him a challenge that he might demonstrate his devotion and gain honor worthy of a Paladin of the Fist. His prayers were soon answered when he heard howls in the distance. All day he could hear beasts gathering just out of sight in the woodlands surrounding the stone circle. At twilight the first wave of wolves attacked. Lucien was armed only with a long sword and a wooden shield, but he dispatched them easily. Through the night he fought, the wolves only coming in one or two at a time. At the break of dawn the monk awoke as he finished off another of his foes. He quickly assured her that he was fine and that she should continue her meditation.
That day no more wolves came, but late afternoon came a mountain lion. His battle lasted hours but in the end he stood bloody and victorious. Lucien cleaned his sword, stood over his foe, and thanked Heironeous for allowing him to emerge victorious against so powerful a foe. After this, he tended to his wounds as best he could, tearing his shirt to make simple tourniquets and stop the bleeding. That night was quiet, none the less, Lucien stayed up keeping a weather eye. At dawn on the third day the wolves came back in force. A whole pack attacked at once, darting in and out, circling him and lunging at every opening. Lucien fought with every ounce of strength left in him and called out to Heironeous for strength with every breath. He killed many wolves, their bodies piling up around the alter where the monk sat. But he was losing blood from many new wounds and some old ones that has opened back up. He began to despair and his last thought before sliding out of consciousness was that at least he would have an honorable death. Sometime later, he could not tell if it was minutes or hours, he awoke to see one large wolf covered in blood and peach colored fur standing between him and the one remaining wolf. The peach colored wolf lunged with feral grace and ripped open the other wolf’s throat. It dropped in agony, twitched a bit, then it’s spirit passed on. The peach colored wolf turned toward Lucien and stared at him. He saw the wolf stand and begin shifting forms back into the young monk who he had escorted just before he fell unconscious once more.
When he came to, he was back in the temple infirmary. His wounds had been healed by the clerics there, and he had slept clear into the next day. Once he sat up, a boy rushed over to him excitedly. “You’re up!” he cried, “please come with me sir, the ceremony will be starting soon!” And the boy ran with Lucien to a dressing room where there was a perfectly tailored suit of armor gleaming. The boy helped him don the armor and then led him to the main hall where Lucien was greeted by one of the elders who was very pleased to greet him. Lucien was told that he was just in time to attend the ceremony where he was to receive his title as official Paladin of the Fist of Valor. Lucien’s father was there, ready to walk up and perform the ceremony in his stead, but he smiled and stepped aside as his son walked down the aisle. Lucien was as happy as a young man can be, his blue eyes practically glowed, the sun glinted off of his golden hair and glittered off of his armor.
“Lucien, Lucien, Lucien” the crowd all shouted as he strode gracefully down the center of the room. No paladin in close to a century had come back after slaying so many beasts; everyone believed that he was favored of Heironeous. He was still in pain, but all of that seemed to fade away as he walked down that stone pathway. He received a medallion, which he carries with him even now, and the blessing of the elders there. He was asked to speak, and with a smile he said, "Glory be to Heironeous!" Shouts erupted echoing his words, and then the ceremony ended.
With the ceremony complete, Lucien was sent to serve in a church in the town of Homlet. He served there for four years doing whatever he could to help the town and defend it. Then one day he received a letter from the mayor…

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Tales of D&D: "Azazel, the Devil-Goat"

Azazel is the bastard child of a his demon father who raped his Ibixian mother. The tribe was going to destroy the child but his mother would not stand for it. She was one of the strongest in the heard and thus her words had great sway and eventually convinced them to let the child live. She gave him the cursed name Azazel meaning impurity. When he was young he was sickly, the demonic half fighting the good inside of him. Because of this he quickly became outcast among the youth. Once he reached puberty his demonic powers began to fully surface and he grew quickly in strength and stature to where he could rival some of his elders in the herd. Evil thoughts plagued him constantly. Like all Ibixian he would pick fights to show off, but he began to bully the weak and fought without mercy. The adults began to fear for the safety of the herd and finally banished him and his mother. At this time his mother contracted a fatal illness and died, this fueled Azazel's hatred. He eventually went mad one night and attacked his old herd. He found a girl he used to have a crush on and dragged her off intending to have his way with her. However the leader of the herd blindsided him and four more adults pinned him to the ground. That is when he heard the words that would forever change his life.

"Child, what are you doing? Why do you give in to the evil inside you? Do love the father that brought your impure existence into being so much you would do the same to your own kind? Or do you love your mother who protected you when we wanted you killed? Choose now child, are you demon or are you Ibixian."

With that the elder headbutted Azazel so hard he passed out. When he woke up the herd had moved on. Azazel sat there dazed for a day startled at seeing the demon he was becoming. Finally when hunger brought him out of his trance like state he swore that he would fight the evil within himself and do good. But first, he needed revenge for his mother. So, Azazel set out to find and kill the demon who rapped his mother so many years ago.

It took him two years but he eventually found the demon he thought was his father and managed to kill him. Azazel took the scythe demon held as his own. But the hands of fate were cruel to Azazel once again and revealed that the demon he killed was not his father at all. So, from that day onward he has been traveling from town to town  taking on various mercenary jobs as he searched for his real father. His reputation grew when he slew a black dragon and took it's skull for a helmet. Now the name Azazel is feared among men and he is sometimes referred to as the Devil Goat.

He was once asked why he wore a black tattered robe, he replied "cause it's freaking bad-ass, that's why!" and proceeded to headbutt the drunkard into the wall. As a kid he had seen a play in a city his herd visited during the city's annual harvest festival, and in that play there was a character dressed up representing death who held a scythe, wore dark tattered robes, and had a mask that looked like a skull. The figure gave Azazel nightmares for weeks when finally his mother told him to go and fight with death in his dreams. He did and that nightmare never returned to him again. So now he wears the same outfit in memory of his mother.

He is covered head to hoof in his tribe's unique blue tattoos and even his grey wings have patterns drawn in them. This was part of the right of passage for males in his herd who would take an oath to honor the ways of the tribe and fight as a true Ibixian.

He live by a saying he heard once, "Neither to be oppressed nor to oppress."

Despite his good nature, he cannot help but get in a good bar fight. It is the Ibixian way after all.