DM Caleth's Immortals (Inactive)
Game Master Saint Caleth

1d10 ⇒ 5
1d10 ⇒ 4
1d10 ⇒ 2
1d10 ⇒ 1

Of all the things the Yrrum clan believes, always being able to trust one another is one of the most important ones. When you are part of a traveling caravan that goes through dangerous regions, it has to be! “Our trust is like a strong chain that keeps us together against the world” is their famous motto. No one can remember ever having to worry about a Yrrum halfling keeping their promise, because no one can remember every being lied to or betrayed.

No one, that is, except Jerrie. He can remember it quite clearly, since it is all he has to think about as he bleeds to death.

He'd been hunting with his best friend, Reed, and had chased a deer into a cave. The thought of roasted deer urged them on, even when the faint stench of death and decay should have warned them off. Hearing the ragged breathing of their prey, Reed and Jerrie rushed in after it.

They never saw the pit that the deer had jumped over it, having seen it much easier in the faint moonlight. They did yell as they fell into the deep pit though, and the each groaned as they woke up with throbbing heads and aching bodies. They both found the tunnel and hoped it would be an easier way to freedom than climbing the sides of a sleek pit. But when a grotesque creature leaped from the shadows and attacked, Reed shoved Jerrie toward it and ran back they way they had came.

Pinned tot he ground and fearing for his own life, Jerrie couldn't call out to Reed when he saw another creature slip from the shadows and give chase. He attacked the creature blindly with fist and hunting knife, matching it's claws wound for wound. He struck a mortal blow he thought, when he slashed open it's throat, but Fate was working against him, for the creature's blood burned like acid and it struck a blow of it's own. Opening it's mouth to scream in pain, a spike like appendage shot out and pierced Jerrie's heart. That attack was it's last, and Jerrie was barely able to push the creature off him, even though doing so pushed more blood out of his body.

Now, laying in the thin layer of water the covered the floor, Jerrie felt cold creeping into him and making his body it's home. He heard one last, death scream and wondered if it was his friend who had thrown him to the beast or the second beast itself screaming.

Then he succumbed to the cold invading him and died, alone and betrayed.

For a Yrrum, that is the worst death possible.

Construct (20)
Tiny (4)
Slow (-1)
Greater Paragon Abilities (-1, plus Tiny modifiers)
+4 INT
+2 WIS
+2 DEX
-4 STR
Standard Linguistic Array (1)
Flight (4)
Gift of Tongues (2)
Gifted Linguist (2)
Skill Bonus: Knowledge - Planes (2)
Light Sensitivity (-1)
Limited Appendages (-2 ad hoc, but it could be worth far more)

Total: 30 BP

VIKTOR STASIUK
Male Oni-Spawn Tiefling Magus (Bladebound, Staff Magus) 7
LN Medium Outsider (Native)
Init +4; Senses Darkvision (60 feet); Perception +2
--------------------
DEFENSE
--------------------
AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16. . (+6 armor, +2 Dex)
hp 72 (7d8+28)
Fort +8, Ref +4, Will +7
Resist cold 5, electricity 5, fire 5
--------------------
OFFENSE
--------------------
Spd 30 ft.
Melee +2 Quarterstaff +19 (1d6+10/20/x2) and
. . Bite (Bite Attack) +16 (1d4+9/20/x2) and
. . Unarmed Strike +16 (1d3+6/20/x2)
Special Attacks Arcane Accuracy +5, Spellstrike
Magus (Bladebound, Staff Magus) Spells Known (CL 7, 16 melee touch, 12 ranged touch):
3 (2/day) Haste (DC 18), Force Hook Charge
2 (4/day) Bull's Strength (DC 17), Web (DC 17), Invisibility (DC 17), Acid Arrow
1 (6/day) Shocking Grasp, Enlarge Person (DC 16), Enlarge Person (DC 16), Magic Missile, True Strike (DC 16), Shield (DC 16)
0 (at will) Acid Splash, Light, Prestidigitation (DC 15), Detect Magic, Mage Hand
--------------------
STATISTICS
--------------------
Str 20/22, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 18/20, Wis 14, Cha 12
Base Atk +5; CMB +16; CMD 23
Feats Combat Reflexes (3 AoO/round), Extra Arcane Pool, Quarterstaff Master, Toughness +7, Weapon Focus: Quarterstaff, Weapon Specialization: Quarterstaff
Traits Dangerously Curious, Reactionary
Skills Acrobatics +8, Bluff +3, Climb +5, Craft (Weapons) +13, Escape Artist +1, Fly +1, Knowledge (Arcana) +15, Knowledge (Dungeoneering) +15, Knowledge (Planes) +15, Ride +1, Spellcraft +15, Stealth +3, Swim +5, Use Magic Device +12
Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Goblin, Infernal
SQ Arcane Pool (+2) (9/day) (Su), Black Blade (Ex), Black Blade Abiliites (Ex), Knowledge Pool (Su), Quarterstaff Defense (Ex), Spell Combat (Ex), Spell Recall (Su)
Combat Gear +2 Chain Shirt, +2 Quarterstaff; Other Gear Belt of Giant Strength, +2, Headband of Vast Intelligence, +2: Acrobatics
--------------------
SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Arcane Accuracy +5 (Su) 1 Arcane Pool: +5 to attack rolls until the end of your turn.
Arcane Pool (+2) (9/day) (Su) At 1st level, the magus gains a reservoir of mystical arcane energy that he can draw upon to fuel his powers and enhance his weapon. This arcane pool has a number of points equal to 1/2 his magus level (minimum 1) + his Intelligence modifier. The poo
Black Blade (Ex) At 3rd level, the bladebound magus' gains a powerful sentient weapon called a black blade, whose weapon type is chosen by the magus (see sidebar). A magus with this class feature cannot take the familiar magus arcana, and cannot have a familia
Black Blade Abiliites (Ex) A black blade has special abilities (or imparts abilities to its wielder) depending on the wielder's magus level. The abilities are cumulative. A black blade normally refuses to use any of its abilities when wielded by anyone other than
Combat Reflexes (3 AoO/round) You may make up to 3 attacks of opportunity per round, and may make them while flat-footed.
Damage Resistance, Cold (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Cold attacks.
Damage Resistance, Electricity (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Electricity attacks.
Damage Resistance, Fire (5) You have the specified Damage Resistance against Fire attacks.
Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Knowledge Pool (Su) You can spend Arcane Pool points to treat a spell you do not know as being in your spellbook, for you to prepare spells with.
Quarterstaff Defense (Ex) At 7th level, while wielding a quarterstaff, the staff magus gains a shield bonus to his Armor Class equal to the enhancement bonus of the quarterstaff, including any enhancement bonus on that staff from his arcane pool class feature. At 13th level,
Quarterstaff Master Use a quarterstaff one-handed
Spell Combat (Ex) Use a weapon with one hand at -2 and cast a spell with the other.
Spell Recall (Su) Spend your Arcane Pool to recall spells you have already cast.
Spellstrike (Su) Deliver touch spells as part of a melee attack.

0-
All Magus

1-
Enlarge Person
Expeditious Retreat
infernal Healing
Magic Missile
Mount
Ray of enfeeblement
Reduce Person
Shield
Shocking Grasp
True Strike
Vanish

2-
Acid Arrow
Bull's Strength
invisibility
Levitate
Scorching Ray
Web

3-
Haste
Force Hook Charge

Construct 20
Small 0
Greater Paragon Modifiers -1
+4 INT
+2 WIS
-2 STR
Standard Linguistic Array 1
Flight (Basic) 4
Gift of Tongues 2
Gifted Linguist 2
Skill Bonus: Know - Planes 2
Stalker 1
Light Sensitivity -1

Total 30

Viktor, orphaned to a monastery early in his life, showed no signs of his heritage until a normal human would have gone through puberty. When the time came, although he did mature physically, his body also began to mutate. His skin became thick, with plates forming painfully within the first few weeks after his 16th birthday. During this time, he also began bleeding through his skin, although the Healers from the temple quickly determined that not only was it not going to kill him, but he was also not human, and this was, although not common, not unheard of for what he was. Although the monks avoided him for a time after, they came to accept that he was still the same person, and nothing had changed other than his appearance. The High Monk, however, saw great promise in him.

The High Monk began to visit Viktor, and accepted him into his training program, combining the Mystic Arts with those of the Physical Arts. In this time, he excelled in his training, surpassing even the High Monk's expectations. The other disciples saw this as well, and began to get jealous, although few would dare to question him. Over time, the High Monk began teaching him newer, tougher incantations, during private lessons which the other disciples knew nothing about. He was given a book of formulas, describing the movements needed to be made, and the prayers to be uttered for several of these spells to be performed. As he grew more and more skilled, he learned more and more of these incantations, some powerful, others not so much, and each he wrote into his tome.

Viktor was a prodigy, and the High Monk knew it. He decided to administer a test. A staff had been passed down for centuries, supposedly awaiting one who would go places unheard of by mortal ears. Even prior to giving the staff to Viktor, he could sense that something had awakened in the it, and his excitement was unmistakeable. When Viktor was called, the staff began to shake, sensing the approach of its soon-to-be owner. As Viktor's hand wrapped around the staff, he could feel it's presence in his mind. With this staff, he only grew stronger in the physical arts, and it even helped him some in the Mystical Arts, as it taught him that he was able to channel some of the
incantations through it.

The two grew stronger together, learning to play on the strengths of the other, becoming inseparable over time. For once, Viktor had a friend. All this time of being singled out, because he was an orphan, or he was a tiefling, or this, or that, and he had finally found a friend. One day, thinking of the legend of the staff, Viktor decided to ask what it all meant, and all he got, as he often got when asking anything of true importance, was a cryptic answer. "You shall know, when the time comes." it had said to him, and he simply left it at that, trusting that all would be revealed in time.

Unfortunately, the High Monk soon became ill. During his last few months, Viktor rarely left his bedside, taking his meals with the Monk, and even setting up a bedroll away from the path the attendants took to administer the healing salves and elixirs. Nothing that was applied worked, and he died with Viktor close by. As the closest thing Viktor had to a father, the Monk's death hit him especially hard. With the grief distracting him, he did not realize that soon to come would be his own death, for the other disciplpes, who had previously merely been held back by the threat of punishment from the High Monk, were plotting to put him in his place after all these years of being top dog.

One night, months after the High Monk's funeral, they decided to make their move, intent that the prophecied one for the staff must not be tainted by the blood of devils and that he must be pure in the flesh. With this in mind, they converged around Viktor's bedroll. Too late, the staff awoke him as their daggers fell, plunging into his chest, killing him nearly instantly. His last sight was of those kids who had hated him, for being different, for being gifted, and most of all, for being chosen. As the first disciple grasped for the staff, and he held it aloft, it simply disappeared, never to be seen again, the prophecy now well on it's way to being fulfilled.

4d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 5, 6) = 18 = 16
4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 6, 5) = 15 = 14
4d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 3, 4) = 17 = 14
4d6 ⇒ (4, 4, 3, 2) = 13 = 11
4d6 ⇒ (6, 4, 3, 4) = 17 = 14
4d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 1, 3) = 11 = 10

Narliss
CG male elf Fighter 7
Str 16, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 9, Cha 12

Traits: Armor Expert, Warrior of Old
Feats: Weapon Focus (Elven Curve Blade), Power Attack, Dazzling Display, Improved Sunder, Weapon Spec (ECB), Intimidating Prowess, Shatter Defenses, Greater Sunder
Skills: Acrobatics, Climb, Craft (weapons), Intimidate, Swim
Gear: +1 Adamantine Elven Curve Blade, +2 Full Plate, Scabbard of Stanching (APG)

This is the tale of Narliss, an elf with a simple dream; to be the greatest swordsman in the world. Its simplicity was that it was not the means to any end, but an end unto itself. He did not seek it in order to win fame, or gain wealth, or claim revenge, or protect the innocent. Though others would at times credit his actions to these motivations his goal was always to improve his skills just a little more. Every battle was a chance to test what he had learned, each loss a lesson in his weaknesses, each victory a proof of his achievements.

Out of his home in the cold south he came unto the lands of Waslitch in search of challenges. At that time peace reigned over the kingdoms, and the days of champions forged on the fields of war were past. Not one for mindless bloodshed or needless slaughter, Narliss sought his challenges where they could be found. Early reports tell of his confrontations with bandit gangs or hobgoblin slavers. Once those offered no new lessons he spent a time visiting the cities of Waslitch to learn from those who might match or surpass his skill. Still retold are stories of his narrow loss in a duel with the swordmaster Brelach and how he chased down and slew the assassin Malkin over the rooftops of Kent.

When his tour was complete Narliss turned to the countryside once more, seeking out more remote schools of combat or lost weapons of legend. Alas, there is a danger to chasing rumors, for some are spread maliciously. Such was the case when Narliss rode into the mountains following the story of a hermit who guarded the fabled blade Balefang till one worthy presented themselves. To his misfortune the story was a complete fabrication, started by the red dragon Kavelgas to lure people to her lair for sport. Narliss fought with more ferocity than he ever had before, but after suffering several telling blows Kavelgas tired of her games. From the safety of the air her fiery breath reduced the elf to mere cinders.

How are the events of his death known, you ask? Some say he had a squire who watched from hiding and escaped while the dragon licked her wounds. Others say that Kavelgas regretted how their battle ended and spread the elf's tale in honor of one who had won her game, even if he had lost his life. It is even claimed that the gods disliked such an early end to the tale of Narliss, and so he was reborn in another land where new challenges awaited him. Perhaps if the last is true we will someday hear new stories of a swordsman without compare carried back to us.

The multiverse is full of worlds, some advanced, where magic has taken civilized life to unimagined levels, where men and women live as Gods. In others, technology has created a world of steel automatons and living machines.

In one world, two great societies rose to the pinnacle of development, creating wonders of art, and war. These two great civilizations bore the potential to merge in a society that could have created an eternal community. Alas this was not to be. The great kingdoms engaged in a century long war that culminated in the utter annihilation of nine tenths of both populations. The survivors rose from the dust and ash, banding together into tribes, surviving in the barren dessert wastelands through the sheer tenacity of barbarism.

In this world, in the remnants of a broken civilization, Akasha was born.

The daughter if the rare union of the chieftain and the tribe's greatest witch, Akasha was in some ways the closest thing her nomadic clan had to a princess. Trained in the arts of battle as her father would a son, yet gifted in the darker arts, capable of drawing upon the supernatural powers of her mother's domain, her future as a leader of her people seemed assured.
That all changed on the day her world came apart. Returning from leading her first hunting party, laden with the spoils of a successful hunt, the young warrior and her friends were greeted by the sight of their village burning, bodies of both her tribesmen and the enemy scattered across the plain. Stragglers were still preying upon they bodies, looting corpses, defiling those as yet alive, and the hunting party found themselves quickly engaged.

Battling her way towards the center of the village she found her mother's body, surrounded by dozens of dead enemy warriors, a testament to her fell powers. beyond the gruesome scene she found her father's tent. along with the bodies of his blood warriors lay another dozen of the enemy, her father's spear broken off in the throat of a warriors woman whose iron bladed sword was thrust in his chest.

Seeing the brutal scene left her almost in a state of shock until she noticed movement amongst the bodies. A small lizardlike creature unlike anything she had ever seen stared at her intently, intelligence in its eyes. As she met its gaze, the world seemed to collapse in on itself drawing her down until she stood alone and naked in an endless void. Yet she was not alone. With her stood a being that she knew at once to be the true form of the lizard-like creature, unfathomably old and incredibly aware it reached out to her mind. Wordlessly they spoke for what felt like days, Akasha learning of the old powers, far beyond the likes of the Dragon God, who had seen enough of the domination of the world and sought to awaken a lost age of power and awareness. She learned of the bond that would allow her to access greater knowledge through her interaction with Hrsskk the pronouncable name of her companion which she learned was in the physical realm called a compsognathus.

Abruptly she was once again in her own body, her hair having gone shock white, her mind and body infused with purpose. The vengance she sought mere moments before seemed inconsequential in comparison to the focus that had settled upon her. She looked again at the bodies, and was motivated into action, stripping the woman of her leather armor, donning it as if enveloping herself in the skin of her enemy, and taking up the woman's sword, she cut herself, allowing the last drops of her father's heart's blood to mingle with her own.

Without another thought she left the burning village, leader of a people wiped from the world, a warrior-witch trained to both disciplines, gifted and granted with knowledge and power beyond the ruthless mortals that ruled the plains. She should have feared for her survival, yet with Hrsskk at her side she did not. She would grow strong, gain in power and she would see the old gods, the true gods, return to the world.

The following years saw the young warrior-witch rise to prominence, creating a tribe from the castoffs and survivors left to die by others, forging them into something greater, a people who were stronger together than any could hope to be alone. United they stood against the darkness, facing an ancient enemy of humanity, worshippers of a Dragon God, a cult that existed for over a thousand years, rising from the wreckage of civilization to once again claim power over humanity.

Akasha fought for her people, battling the patriarch of the Dragon cult to the death in the midst of a magic blasted ruin that drew upon tremendous power during the battle. In the climactic moment that claimed them both, Akasha called to the spirits of her ancestors, filling her with power, and connecting her soul to something beyond as life was torn from both their bodies in a blinding flash.

Then oblivion.

Born to a powerful and wealthy family, Azeth was given anything a young boy could ever want. His family was well known throughout the lands and was greatly feared by all who knew the name' which is being withheld for reasons that will soon be explained. Even with everything he asked for he still lacked something, something other boys had: freedom. The best scholars in the land schooled him at home, he was taught all his skills and abilities in the confines of his family's castle. As he grew so did his curiosity, his requests to leave the keep walls were always denied and always the same reason was given: "It's to dangerous," they would say to him. His father would explain to him that because of his family's wealth and power there would be people who would do anything to hurt his family and steal their fortune' but this wasn't the real reason, as he would soon find out.

One night when Azeth was only 12 years old, he snuck out of the keep and over the castle walls and headed towards town in hopes to quench his curiosity. As he got closer to the town a night patrolman spotted him and attempted to approach him. Azeth darted for the darkness for fear the patrolman was one of the men his father spoke about.

As he wandered the alleys of the town (and wondered why they weren't very dark at all) he ran into a tall man who blocked his way. He then realized there were 2 other men behind him. The man walked towards him and unsheathed a knife, as he demanded all of his gold and possessions. Azeth not knowing what to do, for he had nothing on him, announced his father's name and demanded they leave immediately. With the mention of his name the man's eyes widened quickly as he stopped walking. Azeth hoped the men would flee but instead the man charged him with his blade out in front of him. Azeth tried to duck but he wasn't fast enough, as he did the blade plunged right into his upper arm and stuck there as the man continued running past him and to the men behind him. Azeth turned around to face the men and was expecting his body to fill with pain' but it didn't. Azeth stood up as though not affected at all but still did not know what to do or think. The men drew their swords and advanced towards him quickly.

Before they could reach him 2 figures fell from the rooftops and landed between Azeth and the men. Before the men could halt their charge they ran right into the 2 figures whom both dodged their oncoming swords. As the men made contact with the 2 figures they dropped their swords as they let out a short scream that was drowned out by the gurgling of some type of liquid. As the 2 men were tossed aside Azeth could see that both of their throats had been ripped out and the men lay there trying to scream but only drowning in their own blood. The 2 figures then jumped onto the man who plunged the dagger into Azeth and was unable to let out a scream before he was quickly killed in a much quicker fashion than the other 2.

The 2 figures turned to Azeth and flashed his family crest and motioned for him to come to them. Confused and full of fear he didn't know what to do. Just then another figure appeared behind him. Azeth jumped in fear but soon relaxed as he recognized the face of his family's escort. He picked up Azeth and with the other 2 they rushed back to his family's castle.

Upon their return they went straight to Azeth's room and told him not to tell anybody what he had seen. Azeth nodded as one of the figures removed the dagger from his arm and quickly put a bandage over it. Azeth still wondered why the dagger had not caused any pain and why he still felt nothing. As the figure removed the bandage they all had noticed the wound was almost healed but didn't say anything, apparently Azeth was the only one who was surprised by the sight. Just then a servant brought up a glass of water and handed it to the escort. He waved the servant out of the room along with the 2 figures. As the door closed, he handed the glass to Azeth and looked deep into his eyes and told him: "It's best you get some sleep". There was a crash of shattering glass and Azeth was asleep.

The next morning Azeth was awoken by his teacher who was eager to start him on his studies early. Azeth wondered if it was all a dream. He shrugged it off and stepped out of bed after the teacher left his room and closed the door. As he started to walk he felt something in his foot, he examined it closer and found a shard of glass in it' very strange he thought. Even stranger was that it didn't seem to break the skin for there was no cut or blood on his foot' but there was blood on the glass shard. He remembered the dagger in his arm and looked for a wound' there was none. He took the piece of glass and cut his finger with it, painless as he expected it would be. Blood started to drip from the wound but within seconds there was no sign of where the blood came from. He tried it again' same result. He took the glass and made a cut the length of his arm, only to watch it heal up before his eyes.

He rushed to his father to try and make sense of all he's seen. After questioning his father about all of this his father just looked down and shook his head. He then looked up at Azeth, then to the ceiling. He raised his fists and with anger in his voice he yelled "But he's to young! Please don't let this be so!" He feel back into his chair as his mother entered the room crying and ran to Azeth and held him tight. A precession of servants, guards, and all of the other hirelings of his family that Azeth knew entered the room and dropped to one knee and lowered their head. Azeth was confused and nervous. As he looked at his father and to his mother he caught a glimpse of something' a flame.

It reflected off of his father's throne' he turned to look and saw a circle of flames on the floor behind him. To scared to move Azeth stood and watched as a figured rose from the floor within the circle of flames. His mother continued to cry as she held him with all of her might' which Azeth was feeling as his breath was being removed from his lungs as her grip tightened. His father rose from his throne and bowed before the creature that was engulfed with flames. The figured stepped through the flames and a man appeared, untouched by the fire he was just in. His father rose up and shook his hand as the man informed him: "This is how it must be, we cannot break this cycle or we'd both jeopardize our power". His father nodded and turned to Azeth and smiled. 2 guards approached and pulled his mother away from him and sat her in her throne as his father approached his throne. He turned and hugged Azeth and informed him his time to move on has come. He stood back up and returned to his throne. His teacher approached from behind his father's throne and handed Azeth a scroll and a small bag.

As he handed Azeth the scroll and bag one of the family's maids rose up and charged the figure from the fire. Everybody turned and the maid held up a holy symbol and drew a sword from her clothing. Everybody in the room who saw the symbol cringed and looked away' except Azeth, his family, and the man from the flames. As the maid approached her eyes grew wide with fear as she noticed they were not affected by the symbol. The man from the flames looked at the scared woman and announced in a deep powerful voice: "I am Kain Bloodstone! You dare attempt to cause harm to me or my friends within this castle? This pitiful act of yours has sealed your fate! You will not be spared!" and with those last words he raised his hand and both the symbol and her sword were immediately swallowed by flames and dropped from her hands.

The now-flaming sword rose from the ground and as he dropped his hand it plunged into her skull. She continued standing, still frozen with fear. The flames on the sword became more intense but the woman was not on fire. Kain stared at her for a moment, then uttered words that only Azeth could hear: "Death is to good for your kind". Just then 4 pairs of flaming arms rose from the floor and pulled her down through the flames.

As soon as she disappeared Azeth's father rose to apologize to Kain for what had happened. Kain, still angered by the stupidity of somebody so weak, shook his head and reminded him time was a factor and he must be going. Azeth's father nodded and shook his hand again and motioned for Azeth to come to him. Azeth not knowing what to do ran towards his father and grabbed his hand. As he did his father looked to Kain and informed Azeth that Kain was his new master and would teach him everything he needed to know from here on. Azeth shook his head and pleaded with him but his father turned away and handed Azeth's hand to Kain. Azeth closed his eyes and he stepped into the flames with Kain and when he opened them he was in a different room.

Kain informed him he was his new "instructor" and this was his new room. He told him to get himself comfortable with the change in surroundings before coming out. Kain left the room and closed the door behind him. Azeth sat on the bed and tried to make sense of everything that has happened, then he remembered the scroll and bag he was handed. He opened the scroll and read it:

"The time has come for you to join your new master, Kain Bloodstone. Kain is the sole reason why our family has the power and wealth it has. Thanks to his help we are able to survive and live the way we do, but the price we pay is a great one. Kain was able to rid this world of all other families who were able to rival us to ensure we had complete control, but in return, our agreement was that once you begin to discover the truth about what we are, Kain would come and retrieve you and would take over teaching you about the truth and the power you possess. In the future you may return to us, but for the time being you are under the training of Kain and instructed to listen to him. As much as it pains us to see you leave it is the only way to continue our legacy. After wiping out all other the other families of Vampires in this world, we are the only ones left and must continue at all costs. I'm sure you have more questions after reading this, Kain has promised us he will take care of you and teach you about your powers and the knowledge you'll need in the future. If you wish to return to us you may, but please know that your new brothers and sisters must not know about what has happened this day."

As Azeth finished reading the scroll he dropped it to the floor and fell backwards on the bed. He didn't know what to think or do. He soon felt overwhelmed and dizzy and shortly after passed out. He awoke and then took time to study his new room and took notice to the bookshelf. He noticed a book with his family crest on it and proceeded to open it and read it.

It told him all about his family's true past and all the powers he would soon learn to use. He soon learned that his family was immune to the sunlight that most previous Vampire families were susceptible to but in return he does not have the resistance to other elements that the other had. Also unlike other Vampires his family is able to go for long periods of time without ingesting blood and do not get the cravings the others used to. After he finished reading all about his family's past he opened the door to go look for Kain.

After discovering the truth about his family he was ready to begin his training. As he met with Kain for the first time he soon learned that Kain was now his new owner. If he ever wanted to leave Kain he would have to prove himself to have his soul returned to him. Soon after discovering the power Kain could offer him he decided to decline the offer and removed his family name from his own along with any memory he had of his past.

As the years went on his strength began to surpass all of the others that Kain had under him and soon earned a place at the top of Kain's army. One day Kain presented him with an offer, to join him as he went to recruit followers in the lands of Althea.

Azeth accepted his offer and has been serving under Kain ever since. As much as he missed the comforts of hell, the flesh of the living was much more satisfying.

Side Note: As evil as Azeth is, he still has noble blood running through him (including his family's) so keeping a good appearance along with a charming attitude are still traits he wouldn't soon part with. And mentioning his past will either anger or annoy him, in either case he could choose to ignore it or you might find yourself in pain at your local sanctuary.

Azeth's Philosophies:
Everybody has the potential to be evil.
Persuade with a smile, but if that doesn't work then use your blade.