Ben / Gevurah / Antipaladin Background

Posted in Character Backgrounds on September 16, 2011 by dmawesome

In some ways, my story began when I heard the Song, the very embodiment of the primal, unnatural needs that have gripped me since my youngest days; sharp as shattered glass, intoxicating as the finest wine, as vital as the heart pulsing behind your ribs. In other ways, it began with the Sword, a thing of blood and fire I never truly wanted, but can no longer live without. No. No, that’s all wrong. It began with the Order, and the events that brought me to that grand castle’s gates – that is when my life, such as it is, truly began…

– I cannot recall the name my parents gave me – they died when I was very young. The orphanage called me Ain, ‘nothingness’ in the tongue of our ancestors, but I abandoned that name when I abandoned the Order. For the sake of clarity, I will call myself by the name my sword forged for me: Gevurah. As you may already know, Koune’s orphanages are geared towards turning orphans and bastards into loyal servants of the state. Some train their charges to become priests. Others are focused on teaching children a craft – tailor, blacksmith, teacher. My home bred soldiers for the state church. I had one of the finest educations Koune has to offer, and I soaked up every scrap of knowledge my teachers offered me with the eagerness of a frenzon addict. By sixteen, I had learned enough to join the rank and file of the Ordo Osseus, and it is there I first heard the Song.

It was my first real assignment. I was part of a small task force sent to eliminate an extremist ‘cult’ on the fringe of Koune’s southern border. I expected to simply walk in, arrest the ringleader on charges of sedition and heresy, and walk out without fuss. How naïve I was! When we arrived, the villagers were butchering their own children, offering their blood to the daemon powers. The entire town had fallen to corruption, and had to be put to the sword. While my compatriots dealt with the populace, I struck down the foul master of the cult. It was the first time I killed a man, and I still remember it vividly; the tangy, copper smell, the haunted look on the old man’s face as I ran him through, the Song of life and death the blood howled as it poured from his chest. I remember picking up his weapon without a second thought, and it was then I met the Sword. The power contained within that cold steel was overwhelming; it was as if all the joy I’d felt in my life so far had been purified, condensed, and poured back into me in the space of an instant. It was… beautiful. I was so caught up in this wondrous, savage bliss that I didn’t even notice my body was moving of it’s own accord until I was shoved to the ground and the Sword – that blessed, holy object – was wrenched away from me.

I remember howling with rage and clawing madly at my subduer as my joy was replaced with a horrible rage, but it wasn’t long before something struck me in the temple and all was blackness. I awakened some time later in a dank, dusty cell. Apparently, my former comrades-in-arms were spreading seditious rumors about our mission; they claimed that I picked up the cult leader’s sword and cut down three of our own! At first, I denied the charges, dismissing them as pure madness, but as the days passed and the haze that had settled over my memory slowly dissipated, I came to see the truth of their words. I had cut down men I knew for years without rhyme or reason, and I didn’t even care. I only wanted to hold the Sword again, to grip that wondrous object between my fingers, to cause destruction for the sake of destruction alone. Of course, I’m not stupid. I feigned ignorance at my own trial, claiming ignorance of the murders, but the evidence weighed against me; my five brothers-in-arms who still lived spoke out against me, and I was sentenced to death the following sunrise. The gods themselves must have larger plans for me, for that evening a raiding party from the southern wastes attacked the town where I was imprisoned, causing enough of a distraction for me to slip away unnoticed. Now, I seek the Sword once more, and… why am I telling you this, you ask? Why, my search for the sword has led me to you, sweet thing. Make no mistake – you will NOT leave this room alive – but if you tell me what bastard you sold the sword to, I will make your death clean and quick. Will there it be painful? Oh yes, child. There is always pain…



Posted in Plot Review on September 13, 2011 by dmawesome

The new party set out under the banner of the Jade Venom Skylarks. The Images of the dream still vivid in their minds. Hours of travel left them complacent and vulnerable, especially Brock. Goblins descended on them thinking to take advantage of yet another easy mark. This proved to be false, and the Jade Venom Skylarks drove them away.  The would be usurper, Gevurah, thought to wrestle command of the party for himself. That evening another dream came…


Posted in Quotes on August 31, 2011 by dmawesome

You’re lucky, you still got your nuts.


Posted in Quotes on August 31, 2011 by dmawesome

Good people are farmers.


Posted in Plot Review on August 27, 2011 by dmawesome

They had all arrived at the city of Thelton. The Vampire-Man, Gevurah, along with his Half-Ork Companion, thought to take the mercenary contract from the Jade Venom Skylark mercenary band. Vorash, Neph and the others were intregued by the prospect of riches and offered to join the The Jade Venom Skylarks. Neph and several others even plotted to murder their would-be leader.

April 03, 2010

Posted in Plot Review on April 4, 2010 by dmawesome

All Plot Review predating this post is no longer valid and use of information from plot review is considered a sin. And I will punish sinners, so don’t metagame.

Additional Races of Cressle

Posted in The world on September 26, 2009 by dmawesome


The Nezumi as they are called in La’ress, are a civilized race of man sized rodents. They are rarely seen and largely believed to bring about plague, it is said that they live in tunnel cities deep in the ground. Far more intelligent then most believe; their actions, objectives and motives are utterly alien to the common folk that make up the majority of surface dwellers and nearly all contact with them is hostile. They speak an unusual dialect of undercommon.


Horrible creatures exist in the worlds beyond Cressle, and before the event known as Eschaton; great wizards sought to cross between the worlds. Bringing back with them some of those horrible creatures which may have even caused the Eschaton. Tieflings are said to be the offspring of those wizards who experimented in the depraved chemical wedding of humans and daemons. Tieflings are sneaky, subtle, and generally conniving. Many tieflings are indistinguishable from humans. Others have small horns, pointed teeth, red eyes, a whiff of brimstone about them, or even cloven feet. No two tieflings are the same. The few Tieflings who are immediately recognized as what they are regarded not only as monsters but are seen as sign of the coming of a second eschaton. Many a tiefling have been killed by angry mobs looking to single handedly prevent a second eschaton (some of those mobs may have included tieflings themselves and not known it!). Tieflings are quite rare outside of Koune.

Satyre/ Beastmen

Through out much of the great forest and further south in the wasteland there live creatures that are like upright goats who walk like men. The Satyr are a barbaric race of intelligent creatures much like orks. Orks and Satyr frequently fight to prove to Kharnath which is the dominate race worthy of his favor. Beastmen have brown fur, Cloven hoves and horns. They are said to have once been human.