Post by pringerbeam on Sept 15, 2014 13:30:34 GMT -8
Khorm Einzbern: Male Dhampir Antipaladin
Cormac Einzbern: Male Dhampir Rogue
Our tale begins on the day of our birth. A festive occasion for the noble house of Einzbern until the keep was set upon by assassins. Almost two-score in number, the assassins swept through the castle slaying guards and servants alike. As if by the twisted sensibilities of fate, they came upon our parents as we emerged into the world and were about to be bathed for the first time. Rather than be washed and suckled we were left in the basin as our progenitor's throats, slit like slaughtered livestock, were left to drain into the bath as if to drown us with the blood of our progenitors. Perhaps the assassins thought that this would be a humorous end to our noble lineage. Rather, our execution would instead transform us. As we lay submerged in the blood of our parents we committed the act that all children first do as they scream to the world and we suckled, not upon the milk of our mother but upon the blood of our family. Perhaps this was the act that changed us, perhaps this was a blessing by what dark gods watched over us (it would not be the last), or perhaps this was a chance resurfacing of ancient blood. Regardless, we emerged from the bloodbath, rescued by a lone loyal servant who had survived the massacre by feigning death by hiding among the bodies of their comrades.
This servant, Ariela, would be our second saving grace. She took what little she could from our keep, only able to grab what gold she could carry and our family's signet ring, pried from our mother's finger, the matching ring upon our father's hand had been taken by the assassins perhaps as proof of their deed. She fled to the nearest city with hopes of hiding us among the masses, but it did not take long for our surrogate mother to realize that we were different. Our vampiric awakening, coupled with the fall of our house, drove her to seek a life beyond the light of normal society. She fled to the shadows where we would be safe from future assassination attempts. There, among the dark dregs of the world, we learned to fend for ourselves. I found myself blessed by divine might and accepted by the cultists of Urgathoa. While I was blessed by the gods, a beacon of our cult, my brother Cormac was my shadow. He honed his blades and craft through subterfuge and guile.
As time wore on, the call of vengeance began to grow greater within us and the confines of the city began to feel oppressive. So we set out to find those who had toppled our house and left us destitute nobles with neither lands nor vassals to call our own. Our only clue to the assassins' identity being a symbol described to us by Ariela: a gold lion wreathed in black flames. Our birthright has been taken from us and may only be compensated for with the blood of our enemies. We have found ourselves in Sandpoint following word of a killer called the Chopper who we believe could be related to those who butchered our household.
Cormac Einzbern: Male Dhampir Rogue
Our tale begins on the day of our birth. A festive occasion for the noble house of Einzbern until the keep was set upon by assassins. Almost two-score in number, the assassins swept through the castle slaying guards and servants alike. As if by the twisted sensibilities of fate, they came upon our parents as we emerged into the world and were about to be bathed for the first time. Rather than be washed and suckled we were left in the basin as our progenitor's throats, slit like slaughtered livestock, were left to drain into the bath as if to drown us with the blood of our progenitors. Perhaps the assassins thought that this would be a humorous end to our noble lineage. Rather, our execution would instead transform us. As we lay submerged in the blood of our parents we committed the act that all children first do as they scream to the world and we suckled, not upon the milk of our mother but upon the blood of our family. Perhaps this was the act that changed us, perhaps this was a blessing by what dark gods watched over us (it would not be the last), or perhaps this was a chance resurfacing of ancient blood. Regardless, we emerged from the bloodbath, rescued by a lone loyal servant who had survived the massacre by feigning death by hiding among the bodies of their comrades.
This servant, Ariela, would be our second saving grace. She took what little she could from our keep, only able to grab what gold she could carry and our family's signet ring, pried from our mother's finger, the matching ring upon our father's hand had been taken by the assassins perhaps as proof of their deed. She fled to the nearest city with hopes of hiding us among the masses, but it did not take long for our surrogate mother to realize that we were different. Our vampiric awakening, coupled with the fall of our house, drove her to seek a life beyond the light of normal society. She fled to the shadows where we would be safe from future assassination attempts. There, among the dark dregs of the world, we learned to fend for ourselves. I found myself blessed by divine might and accepted by the cultists of Urgathoa. While I was blessed by the gods, a beacon of our cult, my brother Cormac was my shadow. He honed his blades and craft through subterfuge and guile.
As time wore on, the call of vengeance began to grow greater within us and the confines of the city began to feel oppressive. So we set out to find those who had toppled our house and left us destitute nobles with neither lands nor vassals to call our own. Our only clue to the assassins' identity being a symbol described to us by Ariela: a gold lion wreathed in black flames. Our birthright has been taken from us and may only be compensated for with the blood of our enemies. We have found ourselves in Sandpoint following word of a killer called the Chopper who we believe could be related to those who butchered our household.
