Serinbaal the Lands of Torment ("Dark Sun" Homebrew Pathfinder 1e)

Game Master Sebecloki

Not soon after, Shizuka was thrown into the arena by the Pit Master, to placate the master about the loss of his champion. There, the white haired human discovered his skill at the art of war, and began to build a body of fallen foes built with the sharp scent of ozone and unnatural awareness. Several handicaps were placed on the 'Blind Bastard', as he came to be known. Weights found themselves ensuring his limbs, and his foes became steadily more ferocious. Still, nothing could hold back Shizuka, and eventually he caught the eye of a ruling noble.

The noble realized the utility of a warrior like Shizuka for serving Gulg's purposes. Cladding him in the wood from their rival city of Nibenay, and allowing him relative freedom, including a wife of his own, the noble slowly earned his loyalty.

Since the time of my majority they had plagued me, whispers half-heard by day and a confused babble by night that haunted my dreams. My concentration wandered, my strength ebbed, and the Elders of the Hurien, my tribe, whispered of madness. But the Eldest Druid stayed their blades, and told them that my journey was not yet over but could not continue among the tribe. I turned my back on them before the Blade Wielder called for my blood. As I walked into the empty sands, the voices mocked me, laughing at my fear.

I walked until I was past The Dragon Horns and deep into the Great Alluvial Sand Wastes, where at the hottest the Sun's fury has turned the sands to glass. I walked over them until my feet bled through the cloth wraps of my feet. There was such torment, such agony that the whispering voices grew silent. I saw the steam rising from my bloody footprints, and I realized I was unafraid.

After three days I walked again upon sand. I drew a circle in the sand and sat down at its center, beneath the empty sky. After two days more and the last of my water, I felt the ache of hunger until it left me, and thirst became a comfort. Each day the Sun burned me, but I sat still and endured her fury. On the seventh day the voices returned. With them came the visions.

The Cilops came first, and whispered that his was the voice that plagued me. He mocked my weakness, growling that I had failed my tribe, and that my family would never mourn me. He offered me death, dripping from his barbed mandibles, and called it mercy. I refused him, and bid him leave me. As he vanished, I felt the akasha, the holy fire of my blood, burn hot and pure. I had never guessed at the strength that lay hidden within suffering and enduring.

My flesh withered, my mouth bled, and my skin darkened. Days later (how many? I cannot tell, for I had lost all hint of their reckoning) the Serpent came to me, and whispered that his voice was the one who had plagued me for so long. He offered me food, to aid me in my Test. But I heard the lies that lay hidden in his words, and bid him take the food away. He did so, but in his spite the Serpent lashed out, biting my hand. And then my blood ran cold, as cold as the pale dead waters legends tell of, as cold as the dark between the stars. I writhed in agony, and screamed until my voice was gone.

But in time my akasha, my fire, mastered the ice, and my sinews thawed. I saw the power of the akasha to transform: sand into glass, wood into charcoal, mud into hard brick, flesh into food. I saw the power of the soul flame to heal and cure, mending flesh and blunting venom. But I felt no joy at the revelation, for my ordeal had left me as barren as the sands.

Finally, a Fly came to me, and its voice buzzed within my ears. He buzzed that he was Death, and that his was the voice that had plagued me for so long. He praised my strength, saying that he had not the spirit left to vie with my soul any longer. He had tried since my birth to corrupt me into madness, but now I had won. I was free. The Fly whispered many things to me; ancient secrets, chants and charms of great power, tidings of the buried past and hidden future. He offered me water, so that I could regain my strength and return to my tribe, where they would praise my Wisdom and beg me to command them. But I laughed, refusing him. "You dare defy me?" the Fly buzzed. "Do you know who you are, and who I am?"

I laughed again. "I am nothing," I said. "I am the least child of the least family of my tribe... If you would bring me death then do so, otherwise, I have heard your words and found power and wisdom in them but no meaning. Give me meaning or end my torment spirit."

And then there was laughter, feminine laughter, for I had passed its Test. The fly was gone, the Desert was gone, and before me there was a woman shrouded in white cloth with bright red eyes. I found myself sitting and leaning against a tall bleached white tree, shaded from the harsh Sun. "I am your meaning child, and you... you are my vengeance. I will merge the last life energy I have with your soul and we will both receive what we desire. I will shape you into a weapon to destroy my enemy and you will never be the least child of the least family again. Should you agree, of course."

I left my tribe low of status and have not returned. My mother and father presume me dead, swallowed by the sands like so many others. It has been years since I last saw them but I know the time is not right yet to rejoin them. Only once my task is complete may I rejoin them.

Now, I travel among a group of companions who I have found agreeable enough. We survive, at the very least, and under the dark sun of Athas, sometimes, that's all it takes.

I went into the Desert to silence the voices.
Instead, I learned to listen.
Araska Picture

But it change quickly one day, too quickly.

A fire, great and all consuming, broke out when he was 8. The flames rolled over buildings and sandy streets, trapping and burning everyone. All around were the screams of the tormented, cursed smoke rising to the skies as the hell on earth manifested. No matter how high was the screams or how heartfelt were the tears, the flames did not stop.

It was all meaningless, the fire consumes all. Except for a white haired boy, walking amongst carnage.

With every step he took a part of him was lost. Memories and everything he ever did was gone with each thud of his foot, his first day of Learning, gone like it was never there, his seventh birthday, his first crush, his mother telling him stories of heroes long gone, every ounce of self-worth burned to a crisp by the time he reached the center of his once cheerful neighborhood, but even so he refused to die.

He had no memory of what was happening, that was consumed by the fire.

He no longer felt anything about the hell around him, his emotions were already devoured. He only had hope left, but soon enough that was also extinguished.

His unwavering will had nothing more to sacrifice to him, but he continued his trek. Soon however, he missed a step and fell on the now barren ground, the rain chose that exact moment to start.
As he gazed to the sky above him, he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't think anything and he couldn't BE anything, but just as his life was about to end, in the place of the sky now was the face of a crying and smiling man. As the young boy stared at his overjoyed face, only one thought surfaced.

"... I wonder if I can be as happy as him someday..."

That man was Kisturugi, a Inquisitor of something he never told Kuro, his face was filled with tears, he was so happy.
It was because he saved him, he was so happy because he saved him....
Kuro so desperately wants to smile like that.

Kisturugi nursed him back to health and adopted him as his own, raising him and teaching him the wonders of Divine magic, and the horrors of the Defilers...not that Kuro was any good. Kuro was told he was absolutely terrible at it...but through pure stubbornness and stupidity, Kuro was able to awaken to his natural psychic ability.

5 years later, Kisturugi succumbed to a terminal disease. As he laid there dying, Kuro promised to uphold and accomplish the dream Kitsurugi could never do.

To become a true hero of justice. To help and save everyone, even if he knew it was impossible.

And after that, Kisturugi died, and Kuro left the rebuilt Fuyuki, traveling and searching for people to save and dedicate his life to.

after travelling around for a while, freeing slaves as he went, he ended up back in Tyr, the birthplace of his old home. it was there that he learned of the expedition that was being organized for the abandoned village of Kelmarane.

Now Kuro isn't the best when it comes to money...his almost always empty bit bag can attest to that. he almost always spends his money on food for the homeless in Tyr, cooking for them, talking to them, and bearing their burdens as his own.

Now Kuro has his next order of business. To Kelmarane...

Kuro appears as a man in his late 20's with a muscular build. Kuro has white lightly messy hair, gray eyes and tanned skin color. His eyes are slightly narrowed.

Due to the trauma he suffered during the great fire, Kuro has a constant emptiness in his personality and suffers from tremendous survivor's guilt. He feels that, as the only survivor, it is unfair to the deceased to prioritize his own needs before those of others. He has a distorted sense of values where he only finds self-worth from helping people without any compensation, feeling that the very act “helping people” is its own reward. He believes it is highly unfair that some people survive and others do not. When it comes down to receiving an injury or even giving up his life to help someone, he will do it without a second thought. The people who see this side of him are often very worried and attempt to correct his behavior, though they are unable to change his opinions.

Besides that, he enjoys cooking and cleaning, especially for other people. Its kinda easy to take advantage of his kindness, and he know it but makes no effort to change it.

When he's out and about, he goes by the name Archer, he's freed a bit of slaves, so he thought it safer that nobody knows his name.

A Gnoll stops her patrol around her camp exterior, muzzle raised into the air as she sniffs....

"...Smells like chicken... the Gnoll mumbles, moving away from the camp and through some bushes.

Once the bushes are cleared, she sees it. A campfire, still going on, with a spit roasting 3 pounds of chicken on it.
The Gnoll squeals in excitement, then going over on all fours and sliding on her knees over to the chicken, like a child.

Unbeknownst to her, a red cloaked figure slowly walks behind her, unsheathing a Machete....
The Gnoll sinks her teeth into the meat of the deliciously seasoned chicken, yipping lowly in delight. The figure raises the Machete and gets ready to bring it down on the creature.

...but he hesitates. The Gnoll, ever unaware, continues to eat the great cooking that was just 'left here'.

....slowly the figure lowers his blade and silently sighs, raising it again and slamming the blade against the Gnolls head, knocking it out. The Gnoll falls to the floor unconscious, and the figure drops his hood, showing his large shock of white hair, grey eyes' and dark tanned skin.

He grimaces, grabbing the Gnolls legs and dragging her off into some bushes before looking towards the Gnoll camp...

Kuro grimaces, the desert is a very hard place to track anything down, but somehow...he did it. Glancing back at the unconscious Gnoll, he remembers that he doesn't have all day.

dismissing his Machete, he starts to silently stalk to the Gnoll camp, pressing himself to the edge as he circles the palisade walls, looming for the best point of entry.

Seeing no other option, Kuro latches onto the palisade wall and climbs, vaulting over it and landing inside the camp and ducking into some bushes. The Gnolls laze about the camp, fighting, eating, and laughing....all around, a normal camp atmosphere.

He narrows his eyes, looking around the camp and trying his best to search for the place they keep the prisoners. Eventually, his eyes find a large wagon ment to carry animals. Through the Bars, he see's a multitude of Elves and Halflings, a few Humans as Well.

'bingo' he thinks, stalking closer as the hyena-men laugh and joke with their brethren. He moves closer and closer, heart beginning to pump harder and harder. Sadly, in his tunnel vision he steps on a branch, causing a large snap.

He silently curses as it gains the attention of a nearby sitting Gnoll. Kuro watches apprehensively as the man beast draws closer and closer, instinctivly stilling his breathing, pulling his cloak tighter against himself.

But a rock soon hits it in the head, causing it to yelp and turn to glare at the offender, another Gnoll who is cackling in amusement. Turning, it charges at the laughing Hyena and begins
a small brawl which the other occupents eagerly crowd around.

Kuro lets out a sigh of relief, this is definitely a stroke of luck....

Either way, he moves quickly behind a building, then ducks behind the carriage. The occupants see him, the children seem excited, but the adults quickly silence them before looking at him in apprehension and hope.

He nods, offering a smile to the people....it doesn't seem to help.

Regardless, he starts slinking away, towards where the biggest makeshift tent is, the Key should be there..

---------------------------

His hunch was right, it WAS there...at least, a unknown key was...

But thats niether here or there right now.

He's staring down a...big Gnoll...its probably the leader if its size was anything to go by...

He ducks under another swing of the Gnolls Greatsword, the wind displaced by the weapon buffering against his face.

'This is not good....!' he says in his mind, jumping over the Gnolls cot which offers no resistance to the blade, shattering it.

It only makes the pack leader more angry, his attacks get stronger and more ferocious, Kuro can only do so much dodging and deflecting untill he's caught.

The greatsword strikes against his chest, cutting into his leather armor and digging into his flesh. Kuro stays silent, but his teeth are grit so tightly they might crack. The pain is very real....
But it also grants a opportunity.

As soon as the blood leaves his body, he grabs a handful, slamming it into the gnolls nose and eye's, blinding it and driving it into a blood frenzy at the sense overload. As it starts swinging at random, Kuro kicks off the desk and hops on the leaders back before driving his glowing Machete into the Gnoll's shoulders.

They peirce down, severing tendons and peircing arteries. Kuro immediately silences the beasts roar of pain by stuffing his arm into its sharp teeth filled mouth. The Gnoll bites down hard on his arm, easily piercing the leather and flesh.

Kuro silences his own scream by sinking his own teeth into the Gnolls shoulder, Holding on tightly. After a few more seconds, the Gnoll starts getting slower, its bleeding to much....

It starts trying to get to its breathren, but Kuro immediately pulls the White Machete, affectionately named Kanshou, out of the beasts shoulders and stabs it into the Gnoll back, right into the heart.

The struggles stop, and the Gnoll leader dies, its jaw slacking on his arm which he immediately pulls from its dead mouth.

Kuro pants raggedly, watching the blood pool aroung the beasts body, uncaring of his own viscious wounds....

He leans down and uses his good arm to close the beast eyes, wishing it good passage onto the afterlife as everyone deserves.

He has to hurry up....they'll smell the blood soon...god he's hurting....

Shakily, he reaches into his pack and pulls out a set of bandages. taking his shirt off and haphhazerdly wrapping his arm and chest, he bites his lips to silence his pain filled groans. The bandages are quickly staining red.

Moving through the pain, he wipes Kanshou off on the broken cot, before hurredly making his way back to the slave cart.

The slaves look alarmed at how wounded he is, some of them covering the kids eyes.

He's thankful that they do so, no need for them to see this. He hears the howls and yips of the Gnolls become alarmed, seems they found there leader, as the entire camp starts converging at the end of camp....

...which means he probably has enough time.

Quickly, he jams the key into the slot and lo and behold, the door opens.

"...Quickly! Go! There's a wagon of supplies in the underbrush of the Savannah...go there and get out!"

The slaves stare stupified, before pilling out of the cage and running out of the camp and into the Savannah.

.....he doesn't go with them....which some people notice.

"S-Sir! Come on!" a woman yells to him

Kuro only shakes his head
"....If some one doesn't distract them, they'll end up rounding you all up again..."

The woman turns white, looking torn, along with a few other of the slaves.

He shakes his head and motions them to get going. Reluctantly, the former slaves turn and run after there fellow escapees.

Satisfied that it's just him, he walks to the gate into the camp. Facing inward, he draws Kanshou, then his other Machete, a twin of Kanshou except it is black, Bakuya. He steels himself, fingers digging into the leather handles of the short blades. His chewed up arm screams in protest at the action, as if reminding him that he is wounded.

He doesn't turn, he stays where he is, resolute to buy as much time as he can, he wants to be a hero, more then anything. His body screams at him, begging to run and not fight. The screams only increase as the first Gnoll comes into sight, running at him with a great axe.

"Kisturugi...are you watching me right now...?"

He quick steps forward, surprising the Gnoll, running it through with both Machetes. He kicks the body off of his blades with some hesitation, clearly still uncomfortable with taking a sentient life.

"Are you proud of me...?"

The Gnolls start comming in droves, one after the other, first thing that happens is he gets smacked by a bo staff....everything after that is fuzzy.

"...I am the bone of my sword...

he unconsciously starts to recite Kitsurugi's Aria of Blades, the song he was taught that helps him summon his psychic blades. There are flashes of red and white, screaming, yelling, pain.

"...Steel is my body and fire is my blood..."

He can't feel anything, he thinks He's on his back. There's armored feet running to and fro. His mind continues to recite the Aria of blades that Kitsurugi taught him.

"...Unaware of loss, Nor aware of gain..."

The sun is fading...or is it that he's dieing....?

"...I have overcome countless battlefields...mental and physical...."

It's getting dark now......he hopes that the slaves got away...

"...Not even once retreating, not even once being victorious..."

......

"...Thus, my life needs no meaning.
This body is made of infinite swords."

--------------------

Kuro would awake a couple days later in the care of a band of clerics and paladins. Apparently they were already on route to destroy that particular Gnoll camp, it had kidnapped one of their own to sell on the market as a slave.

He was then chewed out for being a reckless idiot; the word for word response of the strong willed cleric that apparently healed him. He can't keep the smile off his face as he is chewed out, he saved them, that's all that matters.

So all in all....mission successful!