Posted by Aeveran on August 9, 2000 at 14:06:22:
Desc: Clad in the attire of a knight, dull silver drapes about his slender figure, revealing each and every curve along Role: Prologue: Long ago, before the end of the second age, in the land known now as 'Barovia' thier lived the 5 fiends of the Thier ways were far beyond the wicked all know now, when men first began to see these mindless creatures wandering Though after nearly four centuries of living under the Vampires rule, a holy man came to the dreaded land of Barovia The knight heard a noise behind and quickley unsheathed his sword, only to feel a sudden pain squeeze around his Days and days passed, and the knight withered away into one of the living dead, though it was no mindless beast, his [The Blooded Fray] Lucias spoke in a deep voice, though it crackeled at time to time as a fire did when it feasted upon the wood around The five Vampires gazed at one another, knowing very well that Strahd could easily destroy them all, and the mortals Strahd was standing thier ready, and before them stood terrors unknown to man, Shadar Lunn, now said to be a living Two more lunged at the hulking figure, though he merely lunged into them, sword first, impaling one, and quickley Quickley gripping his sword Lucias and Shadar Lunn began to walk in a circle, each starring one another in the Though with that strike, Strahd had plunged his hand deep into the back of lucias, twirling and swirling the dreaded [The Thunderstorm] Lightning streaked across the sky, as the women whom carried Lucias's child cried in agony, it had only been two Sitting on the corpse of his mother, the baby merely wept as he gently stroked his dead mothers face, attempting to He fled from the Village of Roktak, a good ways northwest from Barovia, he fled to the forest in search of sanctuary New vitality was found, and he began to learn that it was blood which fed him, it was blood which would forever quench [Dark Days] The boy was much like a orphan in the Village, he would be fed scraps of meat like a hungry animal, and lived out Locked in the sack, he could barely breath, though what the Village did not know was that Vampires only grew in size [The Moaning Death] The dead cried out to Aeveran, but he only pushed forward through the crypt, finding a ancient tunnel, a tattered Though a passage layed ahead, clean and bloodless, only one creature corpse was tossed below, that of a horned demon [The Note] I am bloody, it has been two days since strahd plunged his vile hand through my chest, I bleed... I am weak, without
his frail body. Pale white skin is wrapped along his face, though it seems cold, almost lifeless, as if he is a
creature from beyond the crypt. Two fiery red orbs, which are his eyes, seem blank, without a pupil, as if a fire
blazes in the holes where the eyes should be, set next a curved nose; which reminds you of a hawk in some strange
manner. Dark black hair streaks down like a rushing waterfall from his head to his knees, a tattered silver band
tied around his forehead, keeping the hair from hindering him. Rusted to the hilt which rests at his side, a worn
mithril blade rests, strange runes etched into the ivory hilt. Strapped unto his back, a battered shield rests,
hammered with various weapons, it bares the mark of War engraved unto surface. Yet still something radiates into
the cold face of this man, a hope, a faith, though it all seems hidden beneath his vampiric features.
Blooded Star. These fiends as the men along the countryside called them, were no simple men, but rather a ancient
race of Vampire. Born as creatures of the Night, these Vampires would stalk the countryside hunting the humans as
prey, and recruiting the strong ones to become mindless slaves of the Void, to transform them into the living
dead. These five vampires lived a secret Legacy, as none would dare speak any word to outer strangers, for these
Vampires had power beyond imaginable belief, they ability to transform thier shape, into any man or women they
slayed, and if at any time one was heard spreading the word of the Blooded Star, he would soon find himself among
the dead.
the countryside curiosity struck, and as they gazed closer the rotting stench of death would be overwhelming, and
at times when they truely peered at the faces, thier loved ones would be the living dead. Some men were tortured
for pleasure by the Blooded Star, locked in a tomb, in a grave deep below the surface world, to stay thier until
madness set in thier minds, and then were released, and once released these men became no different then mindless
animals, drooling, yelling, there minds broken.
and had heard of the recent rumors of Vampire uprising. Though still young, his spirit was bold and pure, he would
begin the War of Night, with the Blooded Star. Upon his travelling, he stumbeled upon a dark forest, which layed
claim to the strongest of the Blooded Star, Strahd Van Zaro'Vitch himself. The knight traveled through swamp ground
and forests, slowely etching his way through it. Strahd was more then ready for the petty mortal, and flew down from
a tall tree stalking the knights back as he played with the mortal.
neck, as he was lifting up off the ground. The cold frail fingers wrapped around the knights neck began to suffocate
him. Baring his dreaded fangs Strahd tore off much of the armor around the neck, and sunk his teeth into the knights
neck; red warm liquid began to flow, as the vampire feasted on the neck of the knight, leaving him for dead.
skin turned pale, his muscule faded, as he became a Vampire. Though Strahd did not intend or want him as a Vampire
for the pure spirit would not take to the darkened ways. The knight found unimaginable strength, agility, and power
in his new form, swearing to use them against the creature which did such a dreaded thing to him. That is when the
Council of the Holy Sword was created, and it drew hundreds upon thousands of victims from the Blooded Star. Four
of the others were no ordinary men, but Vampires themshelves, and so the War of Night began and it would rage on
for nearly fifteen centuries.
it, "We all stand here before the mighty Keep of Barovia, we are the last stand in this War, three of the Vampire
Lords are reported slain, thier heads carried upon the pikes in our back lines, one dissappeared, we believe to a
rift in Thera, and fled the scene of Battle, only Strahd is left" he finished speaking to his men, inspiring, giving
hope as he gazed at them all, smiling to himself.
around them in a blink of an eye. Strahd was actually nearly ten thousand years old, one of the first Vampires to
ever roam the land of Thera. Holding a large battering ram, they each used thier power to utterly destroy the wooden
barrier, as they charged into the Keep.
corpse in the Mausoleum in the crypt below Galadon. He was a terror unmatched, standing before them in dull darkened
platinum armor, wielding a sword in his massive hands, he grinned towards the vampires as he charged into a blooded
frenzy cleaving the first vampire in half.
shield blocking the other with his cursed shield. He then spun in a wide arc, decapitating the other vampire, and
so it was only Lucias and Shadar Lunn.
gaping holes which were to be thier eyes. Lunging at Lucias, Shadar Lunn only hit to the ground, as a swift kick
struck him at the side, denting the platinum armor. Shadar Lunn rubbed his swore ribs, as he glared towards Lucias
attempting to call the nine demons of damnation upon him, but they failed to answer the calling, as Lucias struck
the ground with his holy blade, a white glow appeard to shine around him. Shadar Lunn uttered more blasphemous
words, as a ice devil appeard, though one simple strike to the ice devil released it back into the nine hells from
where it came. Lucias grinned as he stared at the holy sword, striking Shadar Lunn in the chest, as Shadar Lunn too
returned to his prison in the Mausoleum.
disgusting insides with ease. It was then that lucias uttered three words 'Word of Recall' and dissappeared in a
yellow flash, it was on that day, that Lucias would make sure Strahd would not plague the populace for eternity, and
made love to a young maiden, hoping and praying the child would bare the Blood of Vampires, as he fell to the ground
dead, a strange tattered scroll sticking to his hands, revealing the art of Arikolas, the way of the Vampire Hunters.
weeks since she was with the Vampire, and her child was already ready to come to the world of flesh. It kicked and
kicked as she fell to the ground grasping her stomach in pain, the stomachs flesh began to slowely part, as the
force became stronger, until at last the stomach gave away, as the mother was torn apart by the kicking baby; she
fell to the ground dead, her face still taunted with the undying agony.
have her alive once more. Days passed, many days, and he began to mature at an incredible rate, though it would not
continue, it seemed he matured to the size of a grown child, around five or six years in age. He began to understand
what had happened, as he gazed at his arms, they were frail and weak, his bones almost protruding from the skin, he
was hungry, but he did not know for what, fangs bared, claws unleashed he fled from the scene of his mother in tears.
but only heard the wild cries of animals, haunting and taunting him. The brush near him began to shake, as out lept
three dog-like creatures, four feet tall or so, they were slightly taller then the boy, swords bared they struck the
boy, but it didnt faze him, they struck again and again but the boys wounds closed to quickley, he lunged towards
one of the dog-like creatures, fangs bared, instinct took hold of him, as they sunk deep into the neck, blood flowing
he could only lick the warm juices as his muscules surged.
his thirst, disgusting and appauled he knew no other man or women would ever understand. Though when daylight came
it did not affect him, it was as if he was like any other man, walking in day, but a vampire none the less. It seems
he was blessed with both unlife and life, melded together. He gazed around himself and knew he would need to grow
before searching out what he was.
in the cold winter days, though the blood of wicked humanoid creatures would feed him well. Something was strange
about him, the wicked ways of darkness and unlife did not faze him, he sought to do good in Thera, to aid others
with his power and strength, though secretly, knowing that even he could not fend a village of angry and frightened
men. He would roam the dark forest roads at night, surveying for vile creatures, hunting them, as a hunter would
his prey. Though the Village began to grow curious it had been nearly 10 years, and the boy had not aged a single
day, it was then a dark robed man, Strahd himself in disguise came and told them of the Vampires, they instantely
bludgeoned the young boy on dark eve, throwing a sack over his head as they threw him into the lost catacombs deep
beneath the surface world.
from great emotional distress, from stress and fear they would rise and grow in power. Such of the like happened, the
boy cried in pain, in fear, as he tore from his confinement, to find himself standing before the crypt of his father
and the other four vampires. 'Ehsna dajisah elmoastisa kinoran ereffain o m'sdat strahd' the crypts read, though not the
boy or any man could read the ancient runes, it was the art of Arikolas. The words truely translated from the dark
art read the following 'From the Dark Days of the Past a True Hero will rise and vanquish the one who calls himself
Strahd.' One word layed beneath a pile of dust, he wiped it and saw the word 'Aeveran' and so he called himself that.
Aeveran in the ancient tongue was a title for the hero Lucias, which titled him the Bane of the Dead.
scroll layed on the ground he quickley grabbed it and continued, it was also in the ancient tongue of Arikolas, and
the tunnel lead him to a sewer it seemed, filled with stench and odour, many corpses from the surface of the city
were tossed below, rotting and filthy, there had to have been atleast a thousand dead corpses, looted and pried of
all things.
nailed to the ground, as a mark it seemed. Aeveran crawled through the passage finding himself standing before a
shining white knight, surrounded by a circle of cavaliers, it was he who saw the purity in Aeverans heart, the bold
spirit, and knew he was to be trained the arts of the Divine and the Sword. Aeveran had no hostility towards the
Village that damned him, knowing very well fear had played its part, and as did Strahd, it was since that day that
Aeveran would try and hide who he was from the world of Thera, and rid it of the taint of Death, the Unlife would
return to the dead, and the moral taints of Thera cleansed with his sword, though he knew not why his spirit urged
him so, or why he sought it so, perhaps it was in the note, though no man could ever read it...
food trapped in the crypt, I cannot live this agony out. My son... the nameless son, I pray to the gods that you
find this scroll, you must... you must cleanse the taints of Thera, and return peace to the lands. You must not let
the mortals suffer the agony which you will, no family will you have, the secrets of the Crypt are with you, use
them well, aim for the heart of the taints, slay not the minions, but slay the leaders, for a necromancer commands
the legions around him, destroy the necromancer, and the legions crumble... please I beg of thee my son, take up
the art of the Horn, and cleanse the spirits of all taint, return Thera to its.......................