Yanko Tiriac's page

Ristomaur closed his eyes and drained the child, the chambers fell utterly silent again, even the raging storm outside seemed to hold his breath for a second. “Do it”, he barked at his entourage. “But, sire.” “Do. It!”. A woman black-clad in silk bowed her head quickly and rushed to a side table to grab an ebony wooden chest. Without looking at the count she opened the box. Ristomaur flinched at the brandished garlic that was neatly put on dark purple velvet within the box. Silence, as nobody dared looking at the count. “Close it, woman.”, it was Ramoska Arkminos’ raspy voice that cut the silence. He immediately knew that his lord was not ‘cured’, and so did Ristomaur. It was impossible, he did not make a mistake translating the ancient texts. Draining the dhampir boy should have worked, he should be mortal again. Disgusted he tossed the lifeless body of the infant he was still grabbing solely by the skull onto the bed next to its dead mother, visibly shaking from rage.

The door to the chambers opened suddenly and Ristomaur whirled around to see a young woman, obviously blind as a black shawl was covering her eyes. For a brief moment fear ran over his face, before he could regain his composure. Who would dare to enter his estate and why did he not sense anything? “I am here for the child, Count Tiriac.”, said the woman barely audible but strangely echoing in the heads of every being in that room. Ristomaur glanced to Ramoska his trusted advisor. Was there fear in his eyes too? Ramoska relunctantly nodded and Ristomaur gave way to the young woman. Even though her eyes were covered, Ristomaur could feel her piercing gaze lying on him filled with judgement and disgust. She carefully picked up the child, the umbilical cord instantly withering away turning to ash, as soon as her touch graced the infant. She cradled the boy in a blanket and carefully carried him out of the room. “His name will be Yanko and he’ll be buried in your crypt, my lord.”, was all the strange woman said as she left the room without looking back.

A deep and hoarse breath was followed by a muffled thud of a head banging against the lid of a sarcophagus and an inaudible curse. The young human girl standing in the Tiriac crypt smirked. The blind woman next to her wanted to rush to the sarcophagus but was yanked back by the girl. “Stay.”, commanded the girl and the blind young woman abode, nodding obediently. Minutes later the lid was pushed aside, and Yanko finally climbed out of his grave. “M-mother?”, he asked with a hoarse voice that never spoke and has been silenced for the past 126 years. “You’re not wrong,” the blind woman smiled, “but not quite right either, child.” Yanko was confused as he walked over to the strange pair on unsteady legs. He knew her, he was certain. “Well, I hope I don’t regret this.”, said the young girl and Yanko was taken aback because her voice did not fit her soft appearance. He knew that voice too, though. “You won’t, Atropos,” said the blind woman, “come here child, you must be freezing.”, she continued and put a robe around Yanko. He nodded thankfully and as he turned around to look at the girl again, she was gone. The woman smiled motherly and spoke again with that strange voice that was barely audible but echoed in your head, “You must be confused. Come, I’ll explain.”.

126 years are a mere blink of an eye in the face of eternity, but it is the time Mother Vulture needed to plea and convince Atropos, Pharasma’s youngest daughter, the Judge of Judges to release Yanko’s soul and let the child live that was nothing but a tool for the old vampire Count Ristomaur Tiriac. Let him seek redemption, usher the souls of the living and see what he is worth, as Mother Vulture saw in Yanko a potential follower, serving her in the Rasputitase in the Spirelands, when his time had finally come. The first time it did come too soon, though, so she had to beg for his soul to be released for him to prove himself. On their long walk over the old Tiriac manor, the Korsinoria Palace, or simply Castle Corvischior as the people of Varno called it these days, Mother Vulture told Yanko not much about his past, herself and why he was brought back. All Yanko got were riddles of fulfilling his destiny and prove his worthiness. They walked down the road towards Corvischior as she stopped and turned to him with a smile. “You’ll manage, Yanko. I cannot guide you more, you’ll have to make your own path, to show you’re worthy.”, she said and smiled again. Yanko did not understand, he had so many questions, but the blind woman only caressed his cheek and with a kiss on his forehead she was gone.

In the first years, Yanko was haunted with dreams at night, as this was the only way Mother Vulture could provide a little guidance without interfering too much. He learned what he was, a dhampir, and he learned quickly that even in Ustalav that has seen its fair share of Undead, he was at best treated suspiciously and at worst beaten out of town. He did also learn his ‘Mother’s’ way of decay and renewal and was working as a midwife and gravedigger for a long while, bringing life into this world and guiding it out of it. It was in these early days that the desire for an own family, own children gripped his heart without Yanko knowing at first. Ustalav being the cursed land that it is, an unusual amount of births were sour and damned. In their anger and despair, Yanko, for being what he was and doing what he did, was the scapegoat for many families. The ungratefulness and the pain of seeing happy mothers and happy fathers drove him away from midwifery. In fact, it drove him away from Ustalav, after he spent nearly 60 years there.

In this time, Yanko has heard from a place in the west on the Storval Plateau that was more accepting, less narrow-minded and he made the decision to start over again; there in Kaer Maga. Avoiding, what then was Lastwall and its knights that would eradicate anything with their positive energy, Yanko traveled through the Hold of Belkzen. The orcs of Belkzen being a superstitious bunch, they stayed clear of the dhampir and Yanko had fairly safe travels through their territory into Varisia’s Storval Plateau and eventually down to Kaer Maga.

Yanko was overwhelmed by the bustling city and its inhabitants. The first few days he was just wandering the streets, soaking up the impressions and looking at the Augurs, the Sweettalkers, bloatmages and of course the Twice-Born – Kaer Maga’s sizeable population of Undead. In the district of Ankar-Te he was standing in a crowd watching the procession of the Cult of the Child-Goddess, where zombies carried the windowless metal palanquins through the streets and citizens gave their tithe in hopes of protection, redemption and forgiveness. It was that night, that Yanko had a dream again. The dreams had stopped decades ago, but he clearly saw the flat-topped pyramid of Palace of the Child-Goddess in that dream. The next morning, he walked through the city to find the Palace and stood in front of it not knowing what to do really. “You are curious, aren’t you?”, Yanko heard the melodic voice of a dark haired Vudrani woman, “I saw you yesterday. You didn’t tithe. Come.” It was High Priestess Shamalay Kasan, one of Kaer Maga’s most influential figures and the leader of the Cult of the Child-Goddess. Yanko got caught by her charisma and his unsatisfied need for membership and belonging. He learned a lot from Shamalay about the realms outside of the material plane and how we mortals are simply pawns in some bigger games. The cult was the first thing that resembled a family for Yanko, and he stayed and served for the years to come. What started as a tutelage turned into a friendship between Yanko and Shamalay.

Through sheer circumstance, intuition or a visit at the Augur temple, Shamalay talked more and more about the Twice-Born and that Yanko had a natural affinity towards them that he only had to unlock. Years passed, in which he was serving the cult and the High Priestess. The seed she had planted in his head grew over the years and Yanko began to watch when Shamalay was raising the dead – gifting the second life to the servants that carried the palanquins through the city three times a day. He had learned the hard way that his kind was unable to sire children of their own, and there hasn’t been anything to fill that hole in his life. At least, until of lately. “Today, you’ll try it Yanko.”, she said one day with a smile on her face. It was an encouraging smile; the gesture of a friend and Yanko finally unlocked his powers.

“Child, this is not the way.” Yanko jumped out of his bed, panting and sweating. He stared at the young blind woman standing in his bedroom. “Mother, I…” “Their souls are gone. Don’t stir what needs to rest.”, she said and turned around. Yanko was sure she would disappear any second now and he felt the anger grow inside him. Yanko started yelling, that he was done being a tool. He was a tool when he came into this world the first time, and he felt like a tool ever since he came into this world a second time. He did not know the way, but he was no longer willing to fulfill any promises he did not even make. When he was done spilling his heart out tears were running down his cheeks. He was sure Mother Vulture would be gone by now, but she was still standing, and he could feel her blind gaze through the cloth over her eyes. “Mother, you know I can’t have children. I can’t usher the living souls. The Twice-Born are my children, I can lead them, I can show you my worthiness ushering their souls.” Mother vulture shook her head reluctantly. “Their souls are gone my boy. You do what you must, but their souls are gone. You’ll be judged when it is all done. Farewell.” This was the last time Yanko saw Mother Vulture, he never had dreams again. Was he free or was he forsaken? He did not know, but the final judgement would await him in the Boneyard. Nevertheless, to this day, whenever he gifted a second life to his children, he falls to his knees in the evening praying to his ‘Mother’ and asking for forgiveness and redemption, ever hoping she would see how thoughtful and considerate he cared for the Twice-Born. Mother Vulture has never answered since and Yanko has never stopped gifting a second life.