Tales of Darkness
Because of my Blood, I am hunted, because of my Blood, I am the Hunter, because of my Blood, I Hunt.
Class: Ranger (BeastMaster)
Epic Destiny: N/A
|Strength: 19||+4||AC:||Max: 62||Walk: 6||Passive Insight: 19|
|Constitution: 20||+5||Fort:||Bloodied: 31||Run: 8-10||Passive Perception: 17|
|Dexterity: 13||+1(+1)||Ref:||Surge Value: 15|
|Intelligence: 16||+3||Will:||Surges/Day: 10|
Story: p. Vyseris story starts early, very early, when the earth was barely cooling and only the God’s roamed freely. The Raven Queen, her name long since forgotten, though in those days she DID have one, had fallen for the God of all thunder, the dragon Quetzlcotl. Their love for each other was immense, but certain deities did not believe that they should be and the thought of them reproducing and creating a “God Child” made the other deities very scared, so they slew the dragon. The Raven Queen, devastated by the blow and pregnant, unbeknownst to the other deities, decided to detach herself from the living and the other deities, but with her final action she set in motion the birth of her and Quetzcotl’s child. She knew bringing him forth as a God would only endanger him and herself, so she did it through the newly begotten races of the planet. The soul of her child leapt from body to body, trying to find a perfect host for millennia until finally…
The blood of dragons ran through the drow’s veins and his eyes flashed with serpentine quickness. He was top of the line and brood mate to the Lady Dyen’en herself. The drow laughed a horribly guttural laugh as his blade connected and cut through the flesh and scales of the dragon-kin and soft fleshed humans, men, women, and children alike. But, he could feel something tugging at him, pulling him to a certain building and though he was too stupid to realize what it was, he fought it with all his strength, to no avail. Before him was a blonde woman and in her he saw a glowing, golden beauty that he had never seen in anything ever. He dropped his sword and shut the door, their eyes met and the dragon like eyes locked, his a dark red and hers a pale emerald green. The Drow man shut the door quietly.
The woman died giving birth to the child, the man was immediately tortured, killed and then resurrected to more obediently serve his lady and in the wake of this an old wizened woman had a vision. The boy was not truly her blood, though his mother had been like a daughter to her, so in spite of the vision of darkness, the oil like black skin and powder white hair that labeled him a drow and the golden scales that held so much mystery and magic within them, that labeled him an outcast, she still loved him. It was her love that drove her to trick her own people. She labeled the child outcast, branding the child’s chest with the words Cha’kohkev uss. She assured them that the outcast child would be dealt with and that the branding had caused him pain befitting that of Drow blood, though it had merely been her way of altering his features so he may live at least a partially normal childhood. She drew from the brilliant gold of his scales, that formed a dragon going from his face down his back, and brought that color into his skin, turning it a light bronze color. Immediately, she called for the only man she felt she could trust and the only man that even The Raven Queen, whom she was the Highest Priestess of, felt could be trusted. She called and he came, taking the child and leaving him with the dragon born, would treat him as their own for 12 years.
12 years later, the drow finally track him down, the entire night is but a jumble of memories for the boy, being grabbed naked out of bed, tossed into his armor and slapped on a horse with his two Dragonborn Elite guardians. They rushed past the slaughtering that filled the streets and as they reached their exit a draw attached to the abdomen of a spider fell from the ceiling in front of the boy, he felt some sort of “attachment” to the man that looked at him curiously, before impaling both guards, their khopesh falling to the ground. The boy was knocked from his seat atop his horse with one swift kick of the arachnid legs. His eyes caught the sight of first the flaming and then the frost weapons and he lifted them and slamming them together caused a rush of steam. Seeing his opening, the boy sheathed the blades in the loops at his lower back and saying a small prayer to The Raven Queen for their souls, he leapt atop the horse and sped away.