03-23-2024, 10:33 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-23-2024, 04:12 AM by Eloric Aetherion.)
A Mages Tale
I come from a world that everyone knows to be forsaken. A place where dark powers are forced to reside because neither the heavens nor the hells can suffer them. The place where the rot and darkness fall between the cracks of other worlds to rest upon it's shores and deepening forests. I had seen a multitude of horrors there. A multitude of tragedy. A world where justice and honor were as much a myth as a bright day without rains, mist or deepening shadows. I had spoken to strangers who had told me the world is not supposed to be that way. Strangers who told tales of other brighter worlds they called home. But how could I have known my own home was so different?
In that world of darkness, I have known horror, true. But I have also seen great beauty in the shadows, soft caress of love in the rains, haunting hope in the drifting mists, and the strength of light in the silvery moon and her cloak of stars. My home world is filled with both horror but there is also beauty in equal measure if you would but try to see it. And How could I not? It had been the only world ... I have ever know.
Excerpt from the Journal of Eloric Aetherion,
The night my family died, I was only twelve. We lived on our ancestral lands for generations, nobles serving Count Von Zarovich. My family had been among the oldest noble families with blood ties dating back to Nicoleta von Zarovich herself. Even at this early age my tutors spent hours droning on about our lineage, our holdings, our wealth. In the end, none of it meant anything. I remember hiding in the stables as the creatures flooded over the walls of our Manor. They spared no one. The creatures, that I now know as Vampire Spawn, slaughtered every man, woman and child, noble and commoner alike. All I could do was shiver and hide, covered in hay and horse shit while everything I had loved died around me.
The slaughter was surprisingly quick. Our knights did little to slow the creatures down. Apparently force of arms was not much of a deterrent to such monsters. I lay there with barely enough courage to breath. It wasn't until the sun rose high above the trees that I dared to stir from my hiding spot. My mother, father, brothers and sisters … all dead or missing. Everyone was just …gone. Swept away by the darkness in one night. I wandered down to the town of Vallaki, a town my family had watched over for generations. My Mothers youngest brother, Baron Vargas Vallakovich was the Burgomaster there. To my shock, he was content to let me starve outside the city gates. He assumed the family had brought this on ourselves and insisted that Strahd's punishment should be finished with my death. This man was my uncle, the last living relative I could claim. But he turned his eye away from me. I felt numb. Wasn't I supposed to be crying? Weeping for all those that I had loved? But no … tears served no purpose. I saw this even at such a young age. I had to survive, grow stronger, show this world that I was worthy to live in it and not just be consumed by it.
The love of my life tried to kill me. She had already killed our children. What else was I supposed to do? Even as I crushed her rabid mind, I could feel more of my heart dying. Even as she finally fell, body broken, I knew she had taken a bit of my soul with her. I couldn't rationalize the tears away this time. I couldn't push the memory out, or store it in the back of my mind like a neatly placed book. This time … I was lost. This time …I wept.
From that point on, Reion and I were joined by a Paladin named Ferrol, old man Karsten Stone who was apparently a druid, and a local Ranger named Aaron Cole. We were all forced to defend the town of Barovia from the long night. Strahd's forces descended upon the town, at the time we had no idea why, but by dawn we were still alive and that was all that mattered to us. From there we joined forces and fought our way across Barovia, battling every manner of Undead thing. Protecting towns and farms, clearing out crypts and crumbling fortresses, we delved into the dark secrets of Barovia itself. Growing ever stronger in both power and wealth, and also ever closer to Lord Strahd himself. From those secrets, I even came to understand that we were in a curse world, trapped in a divine prison meant to hold an immortal threat. The first vampire, Strahd was that threat. Lord of all Vampires across all worlds, his forces were ever at our heels. As we grew in power, the Dark Lords attention on us grew with it.
Bit by bit, crypt by crypt, dungeon by dungeon, we swept across Barovia and even it's neighboring lands. Discovering that each Land held its own Dark Lord, each one imprisoned by the ancient powers that formed this purgatory of a world. We battled through Marhovia, Dorvinia and even into Forlorn before this fight against darkness brought us back to Barovia, back to Strahd. We hopped that Barovia would be free of the curse if we destroyed the Dark Lord holding us here, so we found ourselves at his gates. We battled his forces, laying waste to them as our power was simply unmatched. As we stepped into Strahd's audience chamber, weapons and power at the ready, he gave us no quarter and we offered him none in return.
The battle was fierce, but one by one we fell to the Dark Lord. Reion had fallen and rage pulsed through me. I was the last one standing as I gathered my magic to finish the Dark Lord once and for all. My wife, my children and all of my family were about to be avenged. But in that moment, Strahd, bloody and nearly dead had held out one last attack. A blast of Magic shot from him just as I blasted him with my own magic. I felt my body being pulled apart by his spell even as my own final spell blasted him asunder. As the Dark Lords body burst into dust, I felt my body being pulled apart. We died in same instant.
But in that moment something happened. I found myself standing right before Strahd again. We disintegrated each other again, and like before we reform from the lingering dust of our mutual defeat to stare at each other once more. The last thing I remember before Strahd, his castle and everything around me vanished, was his furious screams, "How are you doing this?!"
Of course I reappeared in the middle of a forest at bloody midnight and of course there were Werewolves everywhere. I killed the damn things and soon found a road that lead me to a town called New Ilvin. Apparently, whatever kicked me from Barovia landed me in Borca. Not a bad place all things considered, as long as you stayed clear of the local politics. So - Tired and pissed off that apparently the Dark Powers were keeping Strahd alive for some reason, I ordered three bottles of wine, an ale and two whiskeys. Just as I downed one of cool sweet rye shots, I knew almost immediately I had fucked up. It tasted off and in Borca that could only mean one thing. Even as I passed smooth the hell out I remember thinking, It was just poetic that I would survive Strahd only to get poisoned in the land of fucking poison. I should have known better, but I was mildly distraught. My companions and best friend were dead and my long hope for revenge dashed. I had couldn't for the life of me think who I might have pissed off.
When I woke up, I noticed something drastically different. I was in a strange place, A place where I couldn't feel the mists or the presence of the Dark Powers. Whatever brought me here as diminished my strength and rattled my mind. I felt... weaker. But I was sure I was no longer in the purgatory of my birth. I can only guess that the dark powers decided I was more trouble than I was worth and set me free. I supposed they were not done tormenting Strahd and were not please by me giving him a way out. So, they provided me with one. I'm not complaining. After all, I did get to kill Strahd several times, even if it wasn't permanent.
As if to confirm my suspicions, a very clear Dark Lord, someone called Kelthas Dread, spoke directly to my mind and explained that he had ripped the mind and spirit from my body... lovely. Then proceeded to leave my now apparently corpse in Borca and deposited my essence into this new cloned body. Yes, I had heard of the process before, so it made sense if it wasn't fucking completely offensive. With a name like Kelthas Dread, how the hell could this fellow not be a Dark Lord. So it seems I'm once again at one of these damn things whims.
I come from a world that everyone knows to be forsaken. A place where dark powers are forced to reside because neither the heavens nor the hells can suffer them. The place where the rot and darkness fall between the cracks of other worlds to rest upon it's shores and deepening forests. I had seen a multitude of horrors there. A multitude of tragedy. A world where justice and honor were as much a myth as a bright day without rains, mist or deepening shadows. I had spoken to strangers who had told me the world is not supposed to be that way. Strangers who told tales of other brighter worlds they called home. But how could I have known my own home was so different?
In that world of darkness, I have known horror, true. But I have also seen great beauty in the shadows, soft caress of love in the rains, haunting hope in the drifting mists, and the strength of light in the silvery moon and her cloak of stars. My home world is filled with both horror but there is also beauty in equal measure if you would but try to see it. And How could I not? It had been the only world ... I have ever know.
Excerpt from the Journal of Eloric Aetherion,
The night my family died, I was only twelve. We lived on our ancestral lands for generations, nobles serving Count Von Zarovich. My family had been among the oldest noble families with blood ties dating back to Nicoleta von Zarovich herself. Even at this early age my tutors spent hours droning on about our lineage, our holdings, our wealth. In the end, none of it meant anything. I remember hiding in the stables as the creatures flooded over the walls of our Manor. They spared no one. The creatures, that I now know as Vampire Spawn, slaughtered every man, woman and child, noble and commoner alike. All I could do was shiver and hide, covered in hay and horse shit while everything I had loved died around me.
The slaughter was surprisingly quick. Our knights did little to slow the creatures down. Apparently force of arms was not much of a deterrent to such monsters. I lay there with barely enough courage to breath. It wasn't until the sun rose high above the trees that I dared to stir from my hiding spot. My mother, father, brothers and sisters … all dead or missing. Everyone was just …gone. Swept away by the darkness in one night. I wandered down to the town of Vallaki, a town my family had watched over for generations. My Mothers youngest brother, Baron Vargas Vallakovich was the Burgomaster there. To my shock, he was content to let me starve outside the city gates. He assumed the family had brought this on ourselves and insisted that Strahd's punishment should be finished with my death. This man was my uncle, the last living relative I could claim. But he turned his eye away from me. I felt numb. Wasn't I supposed to be crying? Weeping for all those that I had loved? But no … tears served no purpose. I saw this even at such a young age. I had to survive, grow stronger, show this world that I was worthy to live in it and not just be consumed by it.
I shivered, almost starving, almost freezing to death outside the walls for days. Finally I was rescued the Martikov's, old family friends and owners of the largest inn in town, the Blue Water. I was taken in by Father Lucian after Urwin and Danika collected me despite the guards protests. I still remember the shouting. "You'll bring Strahd's anger down upon us! He'll kill us all!" Town still stands to this day though, I think Strahd decided he had made his point. Though I am still not sure what my family had done to offend him.
Regardless I spent the rest of my youth being looked after by Father Lucian and the Martikov's. A duty that most of time fell upon poor Father Lucian. He was a young priest, but a good man, kindly, a little odd, but never cruel. I think my earliest questions and hunger for knowledge turned more than one of his hairs grey. I wasn't so much rambunctious as restless. I pushed away nightmares and bad memories by spending my time studying and learning all I could. I knew even then, that if I was to survive, I would need to understand the secrets of this world. I could feel the stirring of power inside me, and I knew quite quickly that something about me was different from others. I began to move things without touching them, hear what people were thinking, see glimpses of the future. I knew I had to master this. I didn't have a heart of vengeance. That just wasn't in me, but if the opportunity for justice presented itself, then I knew I wanted to be ready to administer it. It was Danika who first taught me to harness my inner magic. Father Lucian had a few books on such subjects to offer up as well, though he seemed less enthusiastic. I was even able to procure lessons on the subject from the Vistani Camp, though Father Lucian again frowned up my interaction with them. I don't understand why, they seemed a welcoming people for the most part. Regardless - I took to magic like a bird takes to the winds. I mastered my first powers by the time I was fourteen.
Reion, a halfling from the west side of Vallaki was a young son from a merchant family that resided there. His family actually supplied most of the goods to the town, so they were relatively left in peace if not respected. The two of us soon became fast friends and decided that neither of us wanted to meet an unfortunate fate, but neither did we want to stay cooped up behind the towns walls like pigs happily awaiting their masters next desire for pork. There it was that we found our mutual desire to become more powerful. With that in mind we spent much of our time exploring the edge of the forests and surrounding lands. It was dangerous, but we knew no other way to hone our skills. Mine was the way of inner magic, while Reion decided the best way to grow stronger was to find the relics and weapons of old. His skills soon reflected this pursuit and he became one of the best explorers I have ever known. We delved into many an old crypt, cave and ruin together. Often times we explored with two other local boys who aspired to a bit of adventure named Szoldar and Yevgeni. It was a solid friendship that the four of us had and we face many dangers together. Many of them almost lead to early graves, but we were young and reckless, and also … apparently lucky.
The experience and danger only pushed us all to excel. By age eighteen I had already mastered several forms of inner magic. There were a few mishaps to be sure, I blew off the main doors to the church with a stray set of force projectiles and I devastated the main room in Lady Wachter's mansion when I first found out I could move multiple objects with my mind. Granted I was still learning to control my powers at the time and with no one else for miles who understood magic of any sort, I think she suspected it was me. Luckily nothing was damaged too badly.
As for Reion, I don't think I have found a lock or trap he could not overcome. He was more suited to dungeons and deep places than his own home by time he hit his eighteenth. It soon became apparent though, that Szol and Yev had no desire to continue to put themselves in mortal danger by exploring places zombies, wights, wererats and other terrible things like to lurk.
Adventure soon took its toll and the four of us decided we had enough gold to retire to less … dangerous pursuits. We parted amiable though and remained friends, albeit slightly less cordial than we had been growing up. Szol and Yev decided to continue hunting the local lands and providing services to strangers and locals as wilderness guides. Reion decided to help his family by guarding their trading caravans and I decided to put my skills to use helping to defend the town. Magic users are a very rare commodity in our lands, so my offer of employment was met with enthusiasm albeit the cool and cautious sort.
A few months after I started this new stage of my life, Anna caught my eye, or rather I caught hers. I'm not sure when I fell in love with her, but she had worked in Blue Water Inn for as long as I could remember. I had known her since she was a girl, but it wasn't until I came home to settle down that she decided to ensnare me. I have to admit, I was completely smitten. We built a little home near Reion's family store and settled into one of the best periods of my life. We had boy named Viktor and a daughter names Sarah. By the gods those were the happiest years I have ever known.
I'm not sure who offended the lord of the land from our little town. But the night the vampire spawn returned burned into my memory like a flaming brand. It was blood and madness, dozens of the creatures climbing the walls and flooding the streets. I torn into the monsters with all the magical fury I could muster, this time ... I was no child. This time I was not helpless. I soon lost count of how many I destroyed, but soon the creatures were pushed back.
Weary but victorious I rushed home to my family. When I came to my house, the shock washed over me. Why had they not locked the doors like so many other townspeople? Why had they not fled if the house was overrun? My head swam and I wanted to vomit. I walked inside and fell to my knees. I looked away from my children's bodies. "Anna!" I called out to an empty home, I thought I knew the answer, but it had been so much worse.
The love of my life tried to kill me. She had already killed our children. What else was I supposed to do? Even as I crushed her rabid mind, I could feel more of my heart dying. Even as she finally fell, body broken, I knew she had taken a bit of my soul with her. I couldn't rationalize the tears away this time. I couldn't push the memory out, or store it in the back of my mind like a neatly placed book. This time … I was lost. This time …I wept.
It was Father Lucian who found me laying in the ruins of my house. It was Urwin and Danika who came and took me to the Blue Water Inn so they could look after me. It was Szol and Yev who stood by me as I buried my family. I was still lost. All I could do was sleep and drink. And in between I would dream of Anna. She would come and taunt me. Tell me how I would be forced to roam this world forever now. Because I had denied her immortality, she would now force it upon me. The nightmares filled my mind. My children's screams. Their horror as their own mother tore them to pieces. Only when I came down into the common room to drink myself into a stupor did I manage to find any semblance of peace.
I soon came to realize that it wasn't Anna I was tormented by. It was some dark warden... some dark power …come to punish me. As cruel and precise as the thing was, it let little things slip. Little things that Anna had never done. Maybe it was my guilt given form? My pain given a life of its own? I still don't know. But sometimes I see this power... dressed like Anna cursing me or just watching from the shadows even in my waking hours. Only the drink pushed it away. And sometimes even then, I can hear it's taunting laughter. My waking moments and the sleeping moments blurring into one long nightmare.
I'm not sure how many weeks or months had passed by the time Reion returned. He had finally come home after guarding a merchant caravan that swept out to the neighboring country of Forlorn. Now at least I had a drinking partner. Reion didn't pry, pester or try to talk me out of my grief. He was just there and I needed that. At some point in the next few weeks, my friend convinced me to come out of the tavern. I found I couldn't stand the sight of this town any longer though. I saw my children playing around every corner. My sweet wife coming home from the Merchant. Glaring. Accusing. How could I have killed her?
We left. Reion asserted that if we are going to live in misery, we might as well be rich. There were ancient ruins and tombs a plenty to be plundered. So as I write this, I find myself starting on my second jug of beer with a bit more gold in my pocket after a successful delve into our first set ruins since we had been young. Granted the gods know anywhere you find yourself, its good to get inside when the sun sets, but these people seem absolutely panic driven by it.
Eloric set down his pen, though it was more that it just fell out of his grasp. He glanced over at Reion. "What was this moldy little town again?"
Reion cursed as he paced. "You're going to need to sober up a bit more mate. I think this place is Barovia."
Eloric snorted, "Of course it is. I thought you didn't get drunk."
Reion rolled his eyes, "Not the country you jackass! The village! You know the one that sits right below the bloody Castle Ravenloft, home to our illustrious ruler."
With a deep groan, Eloric rolled his eyes. "You mean to tell me, you brought us right under the nose of Strahd?"
Looking aghast, Reion held up his hands, "It's not my fault! Those ruins took twice as long as I thought they would! We're lucky to have made it to this inn before sunset, much less the next town."
Eloric let his head fall into his hands. "I honestly hate you Reion."
Looking aghast, Reion held up his hands, "It's not my fault! Those ruins took twice as long as I thought they would! We're lucky to have made it to this inn before sunset, much less the next town."
Eloric let his head fall into his hands. "I honestly hate you Reion."
The Halfling laughed, "No you don't. Now shut up and get that magical brain in the game. We might be needing it before the nights up."
From that point on, Reion and I were joined by a Paladin named Ferrol, old man Karsten Stone who was apparently a druid, and a local Ranger named Aaron Cole. We were all forced to defend the town of Barovia from the long night. Strahd's forces descended upon the town, at the time we had no idea why, but by dawn we were still alive and that was all that mattered to us. From there we joined forces and fought our way across Barovia, battling every manner of Undead thing. Protecting towns and farms, clearing out crypts and crumbling fortresses, we delved into the dark secrets of Barovia itself. Growing ever stronger in both power and wealth, and also ever closer to Lord Strahd himself. From those secrets, I even came to understand that we were in a curse world, trapped in a divine prison meant to hold an immortal threat. The first vampire, Strahd was that threat. Lord of all Vampires across all worlds, his forces were ever at our heels. As we grew in power, the Dark Lords attention on us grew with it.
Bit by bit, crypt by crypt, dungeon by dungeon, we swept across Barovia and even it's neighboring lands. Discovering that each Land held its own Dark Lord, each one imprisoned by the ancient powers that formed this purgatory of a world. We battled through Marhovia, Dorvinia and even into Forlorn before this fight against darkness brought us back to Barovia, back to Strahd. We hopped that Barovia would be free of the curse if we destroyed the Dark Lord holding us here, so we found ourselves at his gates. We battled his forces, laying waste to them as our power was simply unmatched. As we stepped into Strahd's audience chamber, weapons and power at the ready, he gave us no quarter and we offered him none in return.
The battle was fierce, but one by one we fell to the Dark Lord. Reion had fallen and rage pulsed through me. I was the last one standing as I gathered my magic to finish the Dark Lord once and for all. My wife, my children and all of my family were about to be avenged. But in that moment, Strahd, bloody and nearly dead had held out one last attack. A blast of Magic shot from him just as I blasted him with my own magic. I felt my body being pulled apart by his spell even as my own final spell blasted him asunder. As the Dark Lords body burst into dust, I felt my body being pulled apart. We died in same instant.
But in that moment something happened. I found myself standing right before Strahd again. We disintegrated each other again, and like before we reform from the lingering dust of our mutual defeat to stare at each other once more. The last thing I remember before Strahd, his castle and everything around me vanished, was his furious screams, "How are you doing this?!"
Of course I reappeared in the middle of a forest at bloody midnight and of course there were Werewolves everywhere. I killed the damn things and soon found a road that lead me to a town called New Ilvin. Apparently, whatever kicked me from Barovia landed me in Borca. Not a bad place all things considered, as long as you stayed clear of the local politics. So - Tired and pissed off that apparently the Dark Powers were keeping Strahd alive for some reason, I ordered three bottles of wine, an ale and two whiskeys. Just as I downed one of cool sweet rye shots, I knew almost immediately I had fucked up. It tasted off and in Borca that could only mean one thing. Even as I passed smooth the hell out I remember thinking, It was just poetic that I would survive Strahd only to get poisoned in the land of fucking poison. I should have known better, but I was mildly distraught. My companions and best friend were dead and my long hope for revenge dashed. I had couldn't for the life of me think who I might have pissed off.
When I woke up, I noticed something drastically different. I was in a strange place, A place where I couldn't feel the mists or the presence of the Dark Powers. Whatever brought me here as diminished my strength and rattled my mind. I felt... weaker. But I was sure I was no longer in the purgatory of my birth. I can only guess that the dark powers decided I was more trouble than I was worth and set me free. I supposed they were not done tormenting Strahd and were not please by me giving him a way out. So, they provided me with one. I'm not complaining. After all, I did get to kill Strahd several times, even if it wasn't permanent.
As if to confirm my suspicions, a very clear Dark Lord, someone called Kelthas Dread, spoke directly to my mind and explained that he had ripped the mind and spirit from my body... lovely. Then proceeded to leave my now apparently corpse in Borca and deposited my essence into this new cloned body. Yes, I had heard of the process before, so it made sense if it wasn't fucking completely offensive. With a name like Kelthas Dread, how the hell could this fellow not be a Dark Lord. So it seems I'm once again at one of these damn things whims.
NOT the End.