The burden of Darkness and Chaos

(I posted this on the MW boards, thought I'd share it with you guys too.)


The ebony desk, covered in parchments and leather bound accounting booklets, seemed a stark contrast to Eldrin, whose skin was abnormally pale. The Spartan stone room was poorly lit and a thick tapestry hung over the only window in the chamber to block out any light, for light annoyed the pale lord of the DreadHold. A man stood before the desk with obvious apprehension, and his hands shook as he handed a paper to a black clad and black skinned soldier standing against the wall behind Eldrin. Dark elves were generally not to be trifled with, and Raslin was well known for his lack of compassion and fighting prowess.

“Hmmm,” Raslin murmured under his breath as he read over the document. He lingered on it for a few moments before handing it to Eldrin, who sat with a menacing glare on his face. His eyes darted back and forth over the page with an almost approving look until he reached the end of the document, and then the face of the man twisted with rage. Shaking with wrath, Eldrin stood and clenched the document so hard his knuckles turned white.

“You……want…….more?!” Eldrin said, eyes wide with exasperation. “I’ve given you 1200 gold bars and 5 shipments of weapons and armor. I have sent my own men to die for your Lord’s incompetence!” Eldrin was leaning over the desk farther and farther, as he screamed at the messenger, who, in spite of facing the wrathful visage of Eldrin the Black, held his composure much better then expected. “Your Lord’s ineptitude knows no bounds!” Eldrin stopped dead cold with his last statement, and suddenly, as if realizing his temper, he pushed away from his desk and turned towards the tapestry behind him. He pretended to study the woven intricacies of the expensive piece, but really, he was thinking.

The Governor of Illiriya was young and inexperienced with war, but Eldrin knew he defended the republic and his people with all his heart. He was failing at that task for a variety of reasons. The Capital had been at ease when the Baragari had attacked from the southern edge of the Icespur Mountains, and their lack of preparedness had cost them the capital. Refugees had been pouring into the outlying provinces, including Arun-Dar, for the better part of six months. Nevertheless, the young lord had not fled as Eldrin expected. He gathered what few men he could and fought the barbarians, albeit foolishly, and had held the complete loss of Illiriya at bay for almost a year. The Lord of Arun-Dar could not help him personally though, for he had his own problems.

He had sent his squire, with a detachment of Dreadwood soldiers, to the Well of tears, in the mountains north of the Dreadwood, to stop the Lich Achivius from possessing the powerful place. An army of skilled undead and evil northern mercenaries had taken the well and defeated Alo, Novice of the White hawks. Over half of the detachment had been killed and they were hiding from the enemy force in the mountains. To make things worse, Rillia, an Astrillien paladin, had sent a letter asking for assistance at the temple of Madyrn. The temple of the evil god, not far from Alo’s position, held an artifact that might destroy Achivius. This was good news, for the waters of the well had made Achivius almost invincible and Eldrin knew no way in which to defeat the mighty undead lord. Eldrin sighed as he made up his mind about what should be done.
“Lord Raslin, take your best men and go to Illiriya. Your expertise is needed.” Eldrin turned and looked at the messenger. “And see that Illiriya is provided with 500 more bars of gold for the war.” Eldrin turned to Raslin and narrowed his eyes. “These Baragari fiends will taste the blades of Dreadwood Company soon….and despair. Understood?” Raslin nodded in agreement. “You may go messenger.” The man sighed with relief and left as quickly as seemed prudent in the presence of his betters.

“Eldrin,” Raslin spoke softly as he looked into his friends eyes, “You are starting to lose control.” Eldrin sat back down at his desk and started shuffling through some papers.

“I know,” Eldrin whispered, subduing grief as he acknowledged the statement.

“You’ve no choice, you must…”, the dark elf hadn’t even finished his sentence when his black clad friend turned, in one fluid motion, and had him, hand gripping his throat, pinned against the wall, and a dagger stuck a full hand into the stone next to his head. “You must….,” Raslin sputtered,but lost his voice as he mouthed muted words. His feet dangled a full foot from the ground.

“I …will….not!” Eldrin screamed as he tightened his grip around the Drow’s neck. Raslin’s face began to turn white and his eyes began to roll back as he swayed on the brink of unconsciousness. The large man’s face contorted as his friend sputtered and drooled, and, with great shame for what he had done, loosed his grip. Raslin fell to the floor with a thud. He began coughing and heaving for air, but, regardless, slowly he stood back up. The abuse meant little to the dark elf, he knew why his friend had acted the way he had and did not hold him accountable.

“My lord, I have heard rumors of slavers on the western edge of the Dreadwood. They have heard of the war and seek to profit from it. They should be stopped. They should be given no mercy.” With that, Raslin straightened his black officer’s coat and walked from the room. The Lord of the Dreadwood knew his dearest friend was right. He was losing his control. His blood lust was sinking into his daily affairs. He could no longer bring himself to pray, for the darkness was slowly taking him over. Eldrin knew his dearest friend was right…he must feed.

your half celestial and half vamp right?

Yup!

wow, lol, how the hell did that happen, there must have been some drugs involved

Well, after I stepped down as King of Ravenwood and set up the Republic, I left to survey the lands north of the borders of our lands. What I found there was a small village called Arun-dar. the village seemed nice enough, but for one thing. The Vampiri of the Dreadwood(once known as the Brightwood) were using the village as a feeding place. There was one Cleric in the village and the people often fought off the undeath that streamed from the woods, but there numbers were dwindling and there was no hope for their survival.

I soon found that the villagers wanted to leave long ago, but they could not survive the trip. Whenever someone would leave the village and head south, they never survived the night. It would seem that the weak blessings the priest had set about the homes had done much good in fending off the evil of the wood.

When I arrived I found the town's cleric dying of old age. He had no replacement. Being a Priest myself, I sent Raslin south to get help from the capital. It was a hard length of time, for the Cleric of Arun-dar, Jauenier, died while Raslin was away. I tried my best to ward the village, but my wards were only strong enough to stop the Vampiri(Fresh or weak Vampires) and not the more powerful Piria. I organized the village into a fighting force and for six weeks we barely survived the night.

Raslin returned with soldiers and clerics and the village was saved. Deciding to stay and continue defending the village, I gave any man(or creature) pardon from any crime as long as they served me faithfully. That is why Dreadwood Company is made up of a different sort of person.

After a few years of "crusading" into the woods to clean out undead infestations, we came upon the nest of a Matron. Not any Matron, but one powerful enough to control all of the undead in the southern part of the woods. No other Vampire in the Dreadwood would dare challenge her.

We destroyed her coven but found no sign of her. I had taken my Chainmail Choker off and was inspecting the body of one of the more powerful Vampires when she came up behind me and bit down hard. I had never felt such burning pain! I removed my dagger and stabbed her in the face. That dislodged her, but it was to late, I had been poisoned by powerful Piria. The most powerful of Vampires can turn life into undeath through the corrupting essence of their bite.

Needless to say, I beheaded, staked, and burned her, but her poison has lived within me to this day. It started only gradually, but the undead curse slowly twisted my human half into monster. that monster is only kept in check by my Divine heritage(my sire being one of the more powerful Archons of Eliyu). Slowly my visage became dark and I began to wear black(hence, Eldrin the Black). Only by feeding(which I detest) is my dark side satiated and returned to human like. My divine blood wishes to purify(but it cannot be corrupted by any means) and my undead human side wishes to decay(but as far as I know, it cannot be purified.

When I drink the life blood of another sentient creature, that darkness seems to hibernate. When I do not, I become more and more evil and begin to look undead.

So I am at an impasse. I am(or once was) a virtuous man who detested all undeath.

Eldrin's own words;

Dear Brother Andrin,

...The sun does not burn me, but it pains me. Holy song flows through my being, but my connection to Eiur is cut off and shrouded in darkness. Murderous thoughts subtly whisper in my ears with the voice of the Piriyani that bit me. Her voice is seductive and tempting. Virtue and light fight to keep that voice down, but it grows louder by the month. I fear it may be to late for me. But I continue to fight this growing darkness and despair within me, so I can fight the growing darkness and despair in the world about me...

With wavering Strength

Your brother,Eldrin


You asked!

Nice I liked it but WHERE ARE THE PENGUINS??

IDK

He already said he had to feed to stay in control. Sadly, they were the first victims of his appetite.

LOL, so true.