Traits: Reactionary and Chance Encounter
Concept and Personality:
Ven'Jar is the son of Shax. His mother's faith in Iomedae is so strong that this seems to have overcome the will for Ven'Jar to give in to evil. On the outside, he is a jovial trickster who gets along with everyone, but on the inside he is constantly fighting with the voice of his father and the values instilled by his mother.
5'8" Tall, 150 lbs. Red, scaly skin except for a white birthmark that looks like this on his back between two large growths (where wings might go)that drop feathers at times. He wears a black cloak with hood up when being inconspicuous, but in social situations he'll have the hood down revealing his short feathery white hair and two lovely little horns just above his hairline. He has an ebony-handled dagger somewhat hidden behind his dark gray cloak.
Chaotic Good: Being the son of Shax, Ven'Jar has a constant struggle with good and evil. His mother's faith in Iomedae and love for her son have, so far, kept him on the path of good. There is no neutral for him. If he gives in to the demon side of him, it may be too much for him to come back. He's a bit spontaneous and sometimes on the "wrong" side of the law, but his real destiny lies at the Worldwound. He is on a crusade to prove once and for all that his father's will is not as strong as his own.
Prelude: Isaac and Reyna Frisch lived just outside the town of Vigil in Lastwall. They have known for many years that an accident Reyna had as a child had rendered her unable to have a child. This didn’t keep her from praying to the gods that one day she would have a child of her own. One night, a shadowy figure came to her in a dream. “Your prayers over the years have not fallen on deaf ears. Tomorrow, when you waken, you will be with child.” Isaac woke in a start to Reyna’s cries of pain (or was it pleasure). Try as he might, he could not calm her or wake her. Finally, the fits died down, and all was quiet. Then next morning when Isaac woke, Reyna was already up. “It’s a miracle! I’m pregnant!” Could she be showing already? In six weeks, an unnaturally short gestation period, Reyna gave birth to a baby boy. “His name is Ven’Jar. He told me last night.” Ven’Jar (Ven for short) was born with completely red, scaly skin, with the exception of a white birthmark on his back which looks like this. “It’s unnatural! It can’t be mine!” Isaac cried out. Reyna held Ven close and looked Isaac right in the eyes and with a strong yet soothing tone, “This is our son. We will love him, raise him, and teach him right from wrong.”
Growing up: Ven’s first several years were quite pleasant. He was too young and naive to see how the world viewed him and to know how different he really was. Sure, he had red skin and two nubs growing on the top of his head, but all he really knew was that he was loved. Isaac had grown accustom to his son, though their always was a lingering resentment, he had suppressed it for the time being. Ven got into his share of mischief, though his mother stayed on him about the differences between right and wrong.
At the age of seven his parents sent him to the local schoolhouse. Here is where his resolve started to be truly tested. He got kicked out of the classroom the first day for fighting as another boy teased him. That night his mother had a long talk about with him about fighting and that under no circumstances should he ever strike someone. He listened to his mother, and walked away when the others started to tease and make fun of him, this was no easy task as he always had a voice in the back of his mind telling him to strike the other down, but Ven usually heeded his mother’s voice (he slipped once in a while, but kept the fighting to a minimum) getting better and better using his words and cunning to talk his way out of trouble. When possible Ven kept mostly to himself, finding solace in the dark corners of the school yard. He was a good student, especially when it came to history and the wars of the past.
The recurring dreams: At the age of 10 he started having recurring dreams. These dreams would come to him nearly every night for the next three years. The shadows on the wall would come to life, a deep dark voice (the same voice that told him to do the things his mother told him not to do) would speak to him, narrating the workings of the abyss. Speaking to him of great wars and battles between demons and mortals. As terrifying as this should have been, the shadows were soothing, the stories reassuring, and the voice seemed to give him strength. This was a strength that both excited and terrified him. The dreams would all end the same. The shadow armies on the wall would stand at his attention as if waiting for orders. The voice would say, “You are the chosen one. You are the one who will bring glory. Great armies will fight for YOU. It’s your destiny. You will not follow, you will lead. Your strength will lead to victory.” Then right before waking up he has a vision of his mother lying on the floor with a stab wound. Ven is holding a beautifully crafted dagger with an ebony handle covered in his mother’s blood. He then wakes up with a start.
His 13th Birthday:The morning of his 13th Birthday went as expected. His mother woke him up with his favorite breakfast. His parents doted over him as parents would do on their son’s birthday. His mother and father both had gifts for him. He opened his mother’s gift first. She had given him her symbol of Iomedae that she had always worn around her neck. “This is my reminder to you of the values we have instilled in you and the miracle you are to me. Whenever you need strength Iomedae will be there to help you find it.” He thanked his mother and his father handed him his gift. Ven opened the box to find a shiny ebony-handled dagger. Upon seeing the dagger, Ven dropped the box and went pale (or as pale as a red-skinned tiefling can get). “Careful with that! That was my grandfather’s dagger. I figured it’s about time you learned to use one.” Just as Isaac finished that sentence the sky went black. A booming voice filled Ven’s head, the same voice from the dreams. “The time is now! Your destiny awaits you! Kill them! Kill them both!” Without thinking Ven had already picked up the dagger with his tail, and in an instant it was in his hand. He then plunged the dagger into his mother. “Excellent!” Boomed the voice. “Now finish her.” Ven started forward, then his mother smiled at him. There was something else . . . he was holding the symbol of Iomedae. The symbol seemed to sear his hand, and at that moment he had a choice. His father lunged for him, but he easily dodged his failed attempt to grab Ven. He looked at his mother covered in blood on the floor, the ebony-handled dagger in his hand. It was the vision from his dreams. “I’m sorry mother.”
Coming to terms: As he left his home for good, he put the symbol of Iomedae into his pocket. The symbol had burned a scar in his hand with remarkable clarity in the symbol’s shape. Ven headed northeast into Ustalav, keeping to the shadows of the trees and rocks off the roads and traveling mostly at night. About a week in, Ven came across two bandits attacking a small caravan. Ven was about to make his way around when he overheard one bandit tell the other, “If he won’t give you the key, just kill him. I’ll get the lock undone myself if I have to.” Ven’s conscious got the best of him. He could almost hear his mother’s voice in his head. Ven stealthily made his way through the trees, then as he started for the bandits he conjured darkness around him and in a whirlwind, the two bandits were dead. When the darkness dissipated the members of the caravan were in awe, though in his head Ven heard, “Kill them all, you earned the spoils. You’re better than them. Kill them all.” Ven raised his dagger, then took a deep breath, grasped the symbol of Iomedae and placed it around his neck. The caravan thanked him, and asked if he would join them on their way to Starfall. They also offered Ven the small chest as a reward, but he would have to open it, not break it to gain its contents. Ven accepted. He took a cloak, some armor, daggers, and tools from the dead bandits, and traveled to Starfall. The caravan were a group of entertainers. They stopped at several towns along the way. It took nearly six months for them to get to Starfall. When he wasn’t trying to pick the lock of the chest, Ven spent most of his time with an elderly elf by the name of Farahan. Farahan was a dervish. He taught Ven how finesse, not strength were the keys to wielding a light weapon like the dagger. Footwork, quickness, and precision are the key, not strength and power. Farahan also told stories about times long past, and the wars leading up to the one that seems to be coming. The day before they arrived in Starfall, Ven finally opened the chest, it it was but 1 silver piece. Farahan smiled, that was all that was in there. They were going to kill the driver over a single silver piece. Once they got to Starfall, Ven parted ways with Farahan, and the gypsy caravan. He spent the next 5 ½ years in Starfall. He found that, though he still didn’t fit in, he could earn a living. He made a living performing with his daggers as Farahan taught him, and taking whatever odd jobs would come his way, most were just delivery jobs, others were a step on the other side of the law. This experience left him with a bit of a knack for spotting trouble before it happened. He seemed to always be one step ahead of anyone who would disapprove of his work.
On the outside he was friendly, jovial, a bit of a jokester, and charming. On the inside he was still battling with that voice of his father in his head. Then, one night he almost lost control.
He came out of his favorite drinking hole one night (or was it early morning) to a fight in the street. It wasn’t much of a fight as it was just an armored man grabbing a small, frail looking man by the collar, nearly lifting him off the ground. The armored man then grabbed the pouch the frail man was holding. Ven recognized the ring coming from the pouch, it was a coin purse. Ven moved quietly to step in. “He’s stealing from the weak,” the shadowy voice in his head told him. “How many other times has this man bullied poor, helpless folk. You need to do something. He needs a taste of his own medicine.” With that Ven snuck up behind the armored man pulling his dagger quietly as he moved, and just when he was about to bring the dagger to his neck, the holy symbol of Iomedae burned his chest. Ven, startled, kicked a rock in the street and the armored man turned around. “Stab him in the neck. Do it NOW!” The voice told him, but just before he was about to strike, he recognized the symbol braised on the chest plate of the man standing in front of him, it was the symbol of Iomedae. The man’s name was Baldrik. He was a crusader, leaving in the morning for the Worldwound. The coinpurse actually belonged to an elderly lady who was walking up to Baldrik now. Ven apologized. Baldrik asked if he would join him. In the morning Ven would head to Kenabres with Baldrik and company. He had a war to fight, and had to prove to himself once and for all his resolve is stronger than his father's influence.
To the Worldwound: The trip to Kenabres was an uneventful one. Ven spent a lot of time listening to the others tell stories of the old crusades, and the heroics they’ll all perform in the upcoming crusade. He also spent a lot of time with his own thoughts, reflecting. The voices were quiet during this trip. The last night before reaching Kenabres, Ven had a dream:
It started like the ones he had as a child with the shadows around him forming into armies heading into battle. He was the leader of entire battalions ready for battle. “I’ve brought you here, son. This is your destiny. You will be the hero of this war. Your strength and cunning will bring victory. I have given you strength and resolve, now you will fulfill your destiny.”
It is the morning of his 19th birthday, and about a half-day's walk to Kenabres. Ven'Jar had another vivid dream and woke up with a start. It was early and he decided to take a quick walk to clear his head. Walking a bit absent-mindedly he suddenly realized he was walking among the demons. "That's it, your almost home. Your time has come, my son." Ven'Jar continued walking deeper into enemy territory when he suddenly heard a familiar voice whisper, "This way." Several yards away was a figure cloaked in shadow. Ven'Jar followed. The figure lead him out to the caravan. Baldrik approached him and handed him his mother's holy symbol. "I believe this is yours. Let's go." The voice whispered to him again, "Go, my son, and follow your heart."
It was a long journey to get to where he is at, but it’s only the beginning.
Senses: Perception +6, Darkvision 60'
Special Ablities: Sneak Attack: 1d8 w/ Daggers or 1d4
Languages: Common, Abyssal, Draconic, Elven