Post stories about your character and earn an award!

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Posts: 238

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#21 » Sun Dec 28, 2014 2:22 pm

Login Name: Belferon
Character Name: Brianna Corgano

Firstly, let me say I'm not much of a writer, so please bare with me. Thank you. :)

The tavern was dark, dank, and smelled of old sweat and urine. It wasn't that late, yet many of the patrons were passed out at their respective tables. The moonlight streamed through a window on this crisp and clear evening, perfect conditions for causing some mischief... and getting away with it. But, that time was not yet upon the her. Instead, Brianna found herself talking quietly to a warlock that she had befriended on her recent travels abroad before winding up in this tavern. He had proven to be a resourceful and somewhat like-minded individual of which she was telling her tale to. Talking about the past never came easy to her, yet this warlock seemed to have some sway upon her thoughts and made her feel at ease. The words seemed to flow like the watered down ale they were drinking.

"So, you wish to know about my story dear Lock, eh?" Brianna said as she gulped down some more ale. She rarely used the warlock's name and preferred to simply call him, "Lock" just as he simply called her, "Red". Weather it was due to the color of her robes, or to the fact that she was indeed a red wizard, it mattered not to her. In her mind, it is, what it is, and the tale continued.

"So be it. I was born in a large city, the name of which is not important." Brianna waved a dismissive hand. "We were poor as many are in the city. I came from a large family, though my mother died when I was in my early teens. My father told me that I, being the eldest daughter, was to take over the, 'Woman's chores' of the house. But, I preferred to stay in my room and read or sneak out through the window when I could and, "borrow" things. Yes, my father caught me several times and yes, he beat me several times."

Brianna ordered another ale for herself and for Lock. Lock was quite the listener, barely even drinking or moving as she was telling her story. He seemed very interested and attentive, quite odd for a man in her experience, so she continued her story.

"But I'll tell you one thing Lock, he could not stop me from learning. He could not stop my curious mind no matter how he beat me. If anything, that bastard fueled the fire for my thirst for knowledge and power. Power over him, power over any who tried to hurt me!" A look of anger flashed over her eyes, but only for a moment, then it was gone. No, maybe not gone, but controlled.

"But, what could I do? You ask dear Lock, I'll tell you what I did." Brianna waited as the fresh ale was delivered at the table before continuing her story. "I knew of a man that was a mage, or at least pretended to be one. He was a fool, a clown, and a joke. But, he did possess one thing of value to me, his grandfather's spell book. He could barely comprehend the writing inside the book and simply did cantrips and other pathetic spells to impress and amuse the children. And he did this all for a few coins from their parents just so he could get by. A bigger fool I have yet to meet Lock!"

At this point Brianna had to pause, collect herself, and lower her voice once more before going on. She thought it odd, that after all these years that talking about this could still stir her emotions so. But none the less, she wouldn't let that stop her from telling her tale.

"So, one cold night by the pale moon light I crept from my bed to the window and out I went. I went to that magician's house and slipped into the back window and headed straight to where the, "mage" kept his book. Every child knew where the book was because he used to pull it from the shelf to show it off to any and all that came to be entertained. Needless to say, the book left his possession that very evening Lock." Brianna had a sly smile upon her lips as she thought upon liberating that book from that pathetic and weak jester of a man.

"Then Lock, it didn't take long for me to study the book and learn it's secrets. One of the first spells I ever learned was to be dedicated to my father... oh yes Lock, it was indeed for him."

Brianna paused for dramatic effect and to look over at Lock. At this point she noticed a wicked grin upon his face. Ah, truly someone that can appreciate my skills and talents, not to mention a good story as well. She was pleased he was there to hear her tale.

"Now Lock, you may think you know what comes next, but I think you'll be surprised. One evening like most, my father burst into my room to beat me and my brothers and sisters after a night of heavy drinking. Ahh, but this time I had a surprise for him. I had been studying and practicing when and what I could from the book, and had found an interesting little spell as you'll see." Both Lock and Brianna stopped to take a drink of ale and make sure no one else was listening. And so she continued the tale.

"Oh Lock, I was ready for him this time. No more beatings, no more screaming, and no more chores either! As that door flew open I cast my spell. My brothers and sisters were all huddled in the corners like some weak willed and pathetic animals... but not I Lock! No, not I. My brother Belferon may have left earlier in the season, but now it was my time to leave. As my father stood there and couldn't move, I took his light coin purse, I took my spell book, and I then slipped a dagger out from under my bed. I walked up to him and put it to his throat, and told him never to try and stop me again or it would be the last thing he ever did. Just to bring home the, point... I cut his shirt open and carved a large 'B' into his chest! I then walked out that door never looking back."

Brianna couldn't help herself as a wicked grin had spread over her face while recanting the tale to her acquaintance Lock. And Lock mirrored the same wicked smile right back to her.

"So, I know you wonder why I didn't just kill him Lock, but that wasn't just an ordinary dagger. It was one that I prepared ahead of time with a little magical surprise. That 'B' carved into his chest will never heal, will never fade, and will never stop bringing him pain and suffering. My little parting gift to him. As for the rest of my brothers and sisters, perhaps one day they too shall learn the lessons that I did, either way I care not for their fate. Let them find their own strength or die. Knowledge is the key to true power lock, true unstoppable and undeniable power..."

Brianna then held her glass high, as did Lock, when she finished her tale. She felt... how did she feel? One word came to mind: Satisfied.

There's my tale Lock. Now, what about yours?

Posts: 9

Maligaant an introduction

Post#22 » Mon Dec 29, 2014 5:49 pm

Login Name: Viktoras Pephredo
Character Name: Maligaant

“There's my tale Lock. Now, what about yours?” she asked.

Thinking to himself for a moment, he smiled and said “Perhaps someday, Red.”

He looked down into the dark ale in his mug...his story was much like this mug of ale. Dark and hard to view to deeply.
Realizing he hadn't spoken for a moment he looked back up at Red and noticed she had already started talking again about some kobolds in a cave they had recently cleared for a local merchant. She was easy company, this one, she didn't seem bothered by his quiet nature nor his reluctance to speak about himself and seemed more than capable of communicating for the both of them.

His mind began drifting back to Red's question...what was his tale?

The fog enshrouding his memories parted some and he could recall:
Opening his eyes … all around him there were torches and an altar of some kind. The pain … like being bitten all over his body his face even! Reaching his hands to his face he realized it was covered with some kind of metal…a helmet. He began trying his best to pry it off only to be met by excruciating pain, as if he were attempting to rip the skin off his face. Immediately he stopped the attempt. He got to his feet and noticed he was wearing not just a helmet but heavy armor and a shield as well! The biting sensation continued, all over his body and then the voice, “Stop! Do not remove us. We are you! You are us!” the words rang loudly in his mind.

“Lock, are you listening?” Red asked.

His mind snapped back to the present and to his companion. He smiled and said, “Hard not to, Red.”

“Do not tell her! Remember you will, what we did to the last one you told?” said the voice in his mind.

Sitting back in his seat he motioned for her to continue and he took a sip of his ale.

Site Admin
Posts: 3216

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#23 » Mon Dec 29, 2014 8:35 pm

Excellent work, Viktoras Pephredo! I will credit your account now and thanks for contributing!
Brian Bloom

Realms of Trinity Executive Producer & Game Creator

Posts: 9

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#24 » Mon May 04, 2015 11:59 pm

Good even ing, Not sure if this is still being used but i found this thread and wanted to try out writing something so here it is thanks for reading it!

The “light” had just faded from the Draeval Lani, or Time Keeper. A stalagmite the size of a castle in the heart of the Drow city know as Che'el D'euolen, City of Gems in the common tongue. House Do’Fal’Raclen is a medium sized clan. With only 200 blades and less than thirty priestesses with ten mages rounding out the forces under their banner. But what they lacked in steel and faith they more than made up in wealth. Often referred to as “Lloths Bank”, they had their hands on the purse of the entire city. The House formed out of the destruction of another greater house as so many do in the cast system that the Drow have adhered to. Things are as they should be in Che’el D’euolen, and everyone knows their place. Or so was thought by the ruling cadre…
Gui Do’Fal’Raclen sits in his chamber practicing with the newly acquired weapons. The Kama a peasant’s weapon to be sure, but effective in the hands of a master. And that is what Gui was focused on becoming. The party of Zhents that had ventured to the city in search of the gems it was famous for had brought with them a manual on the worship of the God Bane. The fact that the Zhentarim did not live through the negotiations and trade talks did not mean their valuables did not. After an auction of their belongings a manual was found in a small iron bound chest with two mithril kamas. They belonged to Gui now and he was eager to master both the weapon and the sinister understanding of The Black Lord.
Years passed with Gui’s thirst for knowledge growing ever more fervent. He knew the time was quickly approaching that he would need to venture to the lands above to advance his research. He would become a Monk in the service of Bane. His first stop would to try and reach Zhentill Keep.
A few weeks after reaching the lands of light Gui was ambushed by bandits. The kama’s and the manual were stolen after Gui succumbed to a nasty spell the likes of which he had never before encountered. When he awoke he had a throbbing headache and a scrap of cloth in his clenched fist. During the melee he must have ripped it from the cloak of one of his assailants. Weeks turned into months as he searched the countryside looking for something that would shed light on who his attackers were and more importantly where they took his prized weapons.
After spending the day in the hey loft of a small inn he ventured into the inn to begin his regular nightly pursuit of information. He spoke to many humans and even a darthirii, surface elf. All for naught. Then in walked a group of humans who seemed intent on drinking every drop of ale the barkeep had at his disposal.
“Good even ing “ Gui slurred in his broken common.
“Hail umm that is Goodevening master… Are you a drow?” the leader of the band of humans asked in almost a kind of stupor.
“ I am of the Ilethiiri err yes I am drow” Gui said as slowly as he could to make sure that no one in the surrounding area was re-alerted to the fact that a hated and more importantly feared Drow elf was sitting in the common room of their local inn drinking and asking too many questions.
“well I have never met a Drow before and now I have good night to you” The human spoke as if he considered the entire conversation over with.
Gui noticing that his counterpart, in what was already as long a conversation as he had had since arving in this sun blasted land, was intent on getting back to his ale. Without thinking or really expecting an answer he thrust the fragment of cloak into the face of the human.
“Perhaps this is familiar to you?” He blurted with little in the way of confidence he had spoken the right words.
A bit shocked the leader of the band took a look at the cloth and then back down at Gui.
“That looks like a piece of a cloak from one of those fool guards in that city… Trinity I think they are calling it”
Exaltation washed over Gui. Waves of sweet hatred bashed the rocky coast that was his resolve to retrieve his weapons. He knew where he was going now. Oh he had no idea where this city, Trinity, was, but he knew he would find it. There is an old Drow proverb “Revenge is a dish best served cold”. This night he would embark on his path to that revenge. Trinity would pay, and Bane would take the lamantations of he quarry as an offering. And there would surley be some coin to be made along the way.

Account: KamiHamiHai
Character: Gui Do’Fal’Raclen

Posts: 66

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#25 » Wed May 06, 2015 5:48 pm

As the raft pyre he had built, slowly sank in flames on the magma flow that he launched the body of old Brundar on, Carnagor sat and measured his options. Where would he go now? Brundar had given him his home, and the only life he had ever known...

Brundar had been his real mother's midwife. But his mother had died giving birth to him. Brundar had told him that his mother
had come from a powerful family, but had fallen into disgrace after an unexplaned disappearance in which she returned only to
find she was pregnant. She would never speak of his mother or which family she came from, and Carnagor often hated her for it,
but she would never relent. She said it was better that he didn't know, and wouldn't give in to his questions...

Boregar, and Brundar had raised him as their own. They never had much, and were constantly traveling up and down the caravan
routes throughout the underdark... He skoffs as he remembers this. "throughout the underdark"... just the northdark for the most
part... the labyrinth, the sharnlands, and the far'drimm. Boregar was a fair trader and smith. He was respected as a craftsman
moreso than a businessman. Their life was lean. Nomads for the most part. Traveling from marketplace to marketplace, until
Boregar fell to pestilence a little over a year ago, and Brundar was forced to sell off what they had to get by...

Though he didn't have the type of military training most of the duergar go through, he had been a quick learner, and found what
he lacked in training, he made up for with determination. Years of traveling the caravan routes of the underdark had been all
the training he needed. Fighting to survive one group of brigands to the next will have that effect on you I guess, he mused...

He figured he could hire himself off as a guard to some merchant, but he didn't trust any of them enough put himself in their
employ. Most of the merchants he knew had tried to keep his family down anyway. Besides, most of the caravan merchants hired
trained soldiers to fight off any threats... That doesn't seem to be the answer...

Perhaps it's time to put the underdark behind for a while... He had no direction here. He knew he couldn't be idol. "You can't
get ahead sitting on your axe" Boregar would always say. Boregar never sat on his axe... or axes for that matter, and he could
craft some beauties... much good it did him. All the work he would put into them, only to see them walk away with some surface
merchant who probably got the better end of the bargain...

The more he thought of it, the more he would long for the days of Boregar pounding the steel, and other fine metals into such
beautiful pieces. That's it then, he thought. There is nothing for me at the moment. No prospects. So why not? Maybe I'll go see
the world where all Boregar's hard work went to...

A little adventure never killed anyone... "unless they really tick me off", Carnagor Unshorn said out loud, as he adjusted the axe strapped to
his back and then headed off towards Menzoberranzan, and the suface beyond...

Site Admin
Posts: 3216

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#26 » Fri May 08, 2015 5:44 am

Great stuff kamiHamiHai and scorn! I will credit your accounts for your fine works.
Brian Bloom

Realms of Trinity Executive Producer & Game Creator

Sage of Souls
Posts: 149

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#27 » Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:36 am

Xithen Aramanai was born of both dragon and druidic blood. In the forest of Lurkwood, on the border of the Spine of the World mountains, the red dragon, Amoraz, and a female druid, a human named Ceril, bonded themselves to each other, finding peace away from the troubles of the world. In their dwellings, they conceived a child--one of a rare and scattered breed: a half-dragon, as red as his father was. It was here in this paradise created by his parents that Xithen dwelled for many years, growing and learning the ways of both dragon and druid.

Very soon after his birth--only three months into his life--his father began his training of his magical talents. He taught him the way of the weave and how to harness its power. Guiding him along his progression, Amoraz, both a father and a trainer, showed Xithen the wonders of magic and what greatness it could bring. Being of the heritage that he was, Xithen was brought up learning magic that was woven through the Plane of Fire the most, learning to bend and control the element of his birth. It came naturally to Xithen--a talented young sorcerer, much as his father was in his time.

It wasn't too long before Xithen began his own training, hunting down his own prey as any dragon would. At the age of eight, with both his magical talents and his instinctual traits, he easily overtook his prey, feasting on the meat of his quickly cooked game. This level of feral actions, however, displeased and worried his mother. She began to teach him the ways of nature, showing him the cycle of life and what purpose that nature held. She taught him that all life is to be cherished--to be treasured and honored, respected as if it was your own. Instinctually, Xithen was reluctant and rebellious against the druidic actions being brought upon him; but with age and maturity and his mother's patience and persistence, he began to accept her teachings and learn from his mother.

By the age of twenty, Xithen was beginning understand his existence. Having very little interaction with other creatures than his parents--secret friends and allies of the two--he was never influenced in a manner that would question his being; however, one night when his mother was ill, his father sent him to a druidic encampment to seek rare herbs that could cure her. Being raised with honor and loyalty, Xithen quickly undertook his mission without contest or hesitance. He quickly sought out the encampment, using the tracking techniques that his mother taught him. Upon arriving at the encampment, having no knowledge of common reaction to his kind, he quickly made his way to the center and approached a small group standing around their fire. Against all expectations, however, the druids reacted upon Xithen's presence with hostility. Quickly throwing spells to subdue him, the druids shouted out, calling for aid from the rest of the encampment to imprison the half-breed. Never before had Xithen heard this term, but it was clearly spoken with hatred and disdain. Fighting for his life for the first time, Xithen called upon all of his will and might to resist the druids' spells, but it was not enough. Shortly after the barrage initiated, ending almost as soon as it began, they had Xithen held, entangled strictly in the roots and branches of the very nature around him. One druid approached him, dagger in hand, and held it against his throat. Before he could pull back, however, one of the druids' party shouted out, pleading for mercy upon Xithen. Shocked, Xithen recognized the druid as a close friend of his mother's. She pleased her case in Xithen's defense and reluctantly, the druid whose only thought was on ending Xithen's existence removed the blade from his throat and plunged it downwards, slashing the rope that had been thrown around his neck to silence him. He gave him one chance to explain the purpose of his presence. After explaining why he had come, the druids released him from their grasp only enough for him to stand without restraint, but kept his feet bound and his claws tied. The druids gathered their equipment and packed up their encampment, then began making their way towards where Xithen's parents were residing. Roaring in protest and frustration at his imprisonment where he stood, Xithen roared for release, but was ignored by the band of druids.

Shortly after the druids disappeared from Xithen's sensory range, he began to struggle and roar, fiercely fighting against his restraints, but to no avail. Calming down, he decided to wait patiently, remembering the teachings that his mother gave to him. The night passed with the usual silence that the forest brought. Finding no sleep, Xithen could feel for the first time the slow passing of time that came with a restricted presence. Unable to move, to sleep, to speak with another, he began understanding how life must be for those who cannot find peace and began imagining the life his parents must've lived before they found this place. As light began gleaming between the trees, he remembered the name that the druids called him. "Half-breed". He began thinking that there must be others of his kind, but his morale fell at the realization that the number of his kind must be few, as the pure spite writhed around the bitten word as it was spoke gave way to the realization of the abandoned nature that his kind must feel.

Hours past and there was no sign of the druids. No sign of anything that would hint toward his mother's well-being. Growing frustrated once more, Xithen began to pull as his restraints again. Fighting against his bondage, his anger grew, brewing a festering hatred of being bound to another's will. Then it happened: a loud explosion in the area of where his parents resided. Fire roared in the distance, smoke rising into the air. Xithen felt his heart drop, his mind go blank, staring idly into the glow of the distant flames. The sound of wings beating in the air snapped him out of his trance. He looked up and saw the body of a dragon soaring past his prison. It looked down at him and grinned, amused at the sight of a half-dragon in bondage. It was not the face of his father. Xithen watched, staring almost as if in wonder as the dragon disappeared from his sight. Then his anger began to grow. Roaring out as loud as he could, he began to awake his inner strength and ripped through the roots and branches that held him in place. Flying into the air quickly through the trees he caught eye of the dragon in the distance. He pursued after him, flying as fast as his wings could carry him, but in vain. The dragon disappeared over the mountains, increasing the gap between the two. Refusing to give up, Xithen continued after him, but was soon after shot out of the sky.

Crashing through the trees and into the ground, Xithen quickly snapped his attention to his surroundings, standing up almost instantly, but flinching in the pain of movement. He looked over at his wing and spotted the arrow embedded in the bone of his wing. He quickly snapped his head at the sound of laughter that came from in front of him. Before him stood a female garbed in purple robes. Large horns bent backwards over her head and red scales covered the sides of her body and the bulk of her tail. Her face was that of a human's, but her hands and feet were as claws. Her wings folded behind her, she smirked at the sight of Xithen. Taunting him, she commented on his pathetic stance. Angered, Xithen stepped to charge at her, but she countered quickly, knocking him to the ground, wrapping the fabric of his mind in her grasp. Paralyzed, Xithen laid limp, a snarl frozen on his face, his glare locked on the female. She laughed at his eagerness to kill and proceeded to stand overtop of him. Drawing a small sword she spoke, "Here, let me help you with those wings. I'll make sure that you'll never have to suffer the pain they bring you again". In one fell swoop, she thrust the sword downward and hacked into Xithen's wings. Quickly slicing through the bone, she cut his wings clean off of his back. Xithen roared out in pain within his mind, but his body made no motion. Once again she chuckled and spoke, "There. That suits you. Now you behave yourself, young man. Soon you'll bleed out and join your parents. Don't be afraid...death is's the existence you have now that is painful". She laughed out, then turned and walked away. Xithen struggled against the chain around his mind, fighting with all of his might and will through the pain, but it was no use. Soon darkness flooded into his eyes and seeped into his mind. He slipped into his unconscious.

Xithen awoke with a startle a few days later. Examining his surroundings, he could neither see nor sense any presence around him. Lying in a pile of leaves beneath an oak root, he reached back to feel his wings. Struck sick at the absence of them, he snarled, then roared out, swearing in the draconic tongue. Quickly his moved out of his bed and stood up, cringing in the pain that came with the sudden movement, but forcefully, he moved his body and began his long trek on the path of his revenge.

A year later, during his search, Xithen stumbled upon a lone tower in the mountains. His approached it with caution, but with the same sense of vengeance and hatred that he had done so with every place he came across. Opening the tower door, he was greeted with the smell herbal tea, similar to what his mother used to make. Curious, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Upon doing this, he was quickly greeted with a blade at his throat. Snarling, Xithen grabbed the blade, allowing it to slice into his claw as he pulled it forward and reached back with his other to tear into his attacker's throat. His opponent was fast and skilled. He slid with the momentum of being pulled, ducking beneath Xithen's attack, and quickly snapped back upward and held a dagger at his throat. Xithen questioned the man, but was greeted with silence. Growing irritated, Xithen struck out again, but was stopped by the sight of the man's eyes as he looked up, readying himself to counter Xithen.

Confused and afraid, Xithen stood, frozen as the memories of his childhood flooded his mind. He knew this man. He was a friend of his mother's. A skilled swordsmen who once watched over Xithen for them and protected him through the night. He fought off packs of wolves and other dire animals that sought the flesh and blood of the young half-dragon. Xithen released his grasp on the man's blade and glared at him. Staring down at each other for what seemed to be an hour, the man lowered his weapons and stepped back. He introduced himself and spoke of his mother. He knew who he was and he knew what happened one year ago. Xithen told him of his plan for vengeance and the man smiled. He commented about how he was more like his father than his mother, and yet he resembled her so much. He offered Xithen an apprenticeship in the way of the sword. Xithen accepted and trained with him for three years.

His training complete and his knowledge broadened, Xithen departed from his temporary home, thanking his instructor and promising to remember his teachings and his wisdom and to also remember the teachings of his mother. With newfound skill and confidence, as well as a strive beyond that of pure spite, Xithen set forth on not only a path of vengeance, but a path of justice.

Eighteen years later, Xithen overheard a group of adventurers traveling through the forest. They spoke of a city called Trinity that was at engaged in a war and that the king had called upon heroes to lend their aid to their defense. Trinity cared not for what breed of life they came from, but only that they would seek justice and righteousness. Against his own beliefs, Xithen took the first true risk of his life and gave his trust to an unknown group that may or may not be seeking his aid. With the hope of finally having a vantage point to bound from, he made his way to Trinity, seeking whatever means he could to aid him in his quest.
Wisdom need not come from age or experience. It can be passed down from generation to generation; from one who's learned to another who has yet had to witness such events. One does not need to be ancient to be called Sage.

Sage of Souls
Posts: 149

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#28 » Tue Jun 23, 2015 2:37 am

That's the summary of Xithen's backstory. It'd take me probably four posts to give every detail, though.

Account Name: Sage of Souls
Character Name: Xithen Aramanai
Wisdom need not come from age or experience. It can be passed down from generation to generation; from one who's learned to another who has yet had to witness such events. One does not need to be ancient to be called Sage.

Site Admin
Posts: 3216

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#29 » Tue Jun 23, 2015 5:58 am

Very nice write up, Sage! I credited your account.
Brian Bloom

Realms of Trinity Executive Producer & Game Creator

Posts: 822

Re: Post stories about your character and earn an award!

Post#30 » Tue Jun 23, 2015 7:49 am

A SSethday among others in the abyssal swamp where the Wildedge tribe thrives

The elder yuanti matriarch rose from the muddy soil where her knees were ceremonially set. It had been a long prayer to he beloved god, and once again, as the archpriest of SSeth, she had heared his voice and been set on motion. Time for reducing her flock, he had said.

Meanwhile, in the underdark corridors, some adventurers met by luck, or because they simply left trinity together. they were all descending into the same abyss. There was :
- Azrad, the tiny gnome puncher
- Alicia, the demon
- Lorne, the thief
- Sartys, the sneaker
- Zora, the bowyer
- Aegys, the wannabee mage
- Aramis, the beloved son and Paladin of SSeth
- Maelys, the brutish cow
- Tanys, the ladies's favored
- Laureen, warden of the swamp
All of them were indeed of the same blood, and as all SSeth days they were summoned by their matriarch to attend the ceremonial lunch at the family house. They hated each other, yet they knew they did not have any better chance to survive than to ally themselves, especially today.
Once all gathered ain the manor around the table, they waited for their mother to start the ceremony, and watched the table full of vegetables, fruits... but something as missing : Meat, again.
MATRIARCH : "My beloved blood, welcome ! You are so kind to visit your old mother, really, especially in those times of hunger and thirst. I expect you all to have thrived on the surface, as I had commanded you, did you ?"

Azrad : "I did"
Alicia : "I am full of blood, thanks mom"
Lorne : "I have infiltrated a sort of brotherhood. They realy believe I am a mage ! *smiles*"
Aegys : "What ? You're in too ? but you're a ...."
Sartys : "I can't even bear all the treasures I have gathered"
Zora : "Hunt was good, mum"
Aramis : "The ennemies of SSEth are far less than ever, Archpriest"
Maelys : "When i find where Az is hidden, I'll kick him too"
Tanys : "I have expanded our blood many times, indeed, my godly voice and my... sword make so I am never alone. Only one resist me, mother, but she is from another tribe, so maybe her mother disapproves and the sweet silver haired archer is not ready to admit it, other wise how could she resist me ?"
Laureen : "Please make that living guitar shut up ! Our swamp is safer than ever, respected mother"

MATRIARCH : "Good, good, good to know. Now to celebrate those good news, I say we feast ! We feast on...?"

And chaos erupted. They all knew what it meant : one of them, if not several, would serve as meal today.

Azrad stunned Aegys and Lorne magically popped a dagger that made a large smile in her throat.
Alicia summoned a succubus to distract her brother Aramis, while Laureen snapped his neck
Maelys and Tanys, the elders, glanced at each other, then Tanys took a drum and beat it. Sartys was only a second surprised by this music...and the last note he heard was a crack on his head. The 1 ton Maelys's behemoth mace had just liquidified his head, without real artistic talent, really.
Meawhile Zora was hiding... without seeing Golgoth, the baby Tyranosaurus that was raised in the house, hidden in the same place. Strangely he didn't like her to walk on his feet, and chew her head.

MATRIARCH : "We will feast godly well, blood of my blood, today !!"

And the remaining of the meal was more peaceful, with even a room near the table for Golgoth. Their bellies full, they prepared to leave. The matriarch kissed them all, then went to pray again at the temple.

A male yuanti was standing there, naked. His glare was dark, while luminescent. Once he saw the matriarch, he started to talk : "YOU WILL TAKE THIS ONE AND CONCEIVE A SOUL GATHERER. YOU WILL GIVE HIM A LARGE BLADE THAT I WILL BLESS SO HE CAN CHOP HEADS AND GATHER THE SOULS IN HIS BLADE". Then the man's glare become normal, and he became conscious of his environment again. "Archpriest ? What in SSeth's blood am I doing here and... naked ?"

MATRIARCH : "We are to conceive a son, seeder. You will obey your lord's command"

After some acrobatic exchanges, the two lovers glanced at each other. The archpriest's lust was not at all satiated.

MATRIARCH : "I did not take my dessert, love. You have served your holy purpose. Now rest for eternity".

Thus ended that male's life, and some time after Simara the head chopper was born and kicking.
I have put all my poor english here. Please forgive the errors !

Account : Samyx.
Char name : Simara (or watever char ou want, I just wanted to talk about the family instead of him that I created yesterday)

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