(Brief Notes on the Character themselves, the 'Class' part will not make sense to those that do not play d&d but that should not impede your understanding of the story)
Name: Karihazel
Race: Teifling
Class: Paladin of Conquest
Title: the Cursed or the Ravager
Deity: Fey Lord Azremal, Force of War
Smoke and cinder fill the air, as the crackling of fires burn in the wake of destructin and blood. A village, filled with huts of hay and wood, dirt roads carving their way through the village of Orneth. Bodies lie and coat the earth in crimson red, fires burn away at the people dressed in rags and cloth while pitchforks, spears, and daggers lay mere inches from their hands. The blood trails on past the village as the bodies change, now layered in leather and chainmail, swords and bows.
The reflective liquid red freshly staining the grasses around lead forth before two figures. One a man dressed in chain mail, dagger and coin pouch resting on his belt, as he lies on the ground holding himself up, sword still in hand he gazes upward in fear to the woman before him, mustering his courage and defiance he speaks.
Man - "How much did they pay you huh?! it was one damn village, we let a few stragglers go and they hire a freak!! Well?! There isn't a hells chance they paid you as much as I can! I'll split it with you! how bout that?! huh?!"
The pale skinned woman looks down at the man before her briefly, "they didn't hire me..."
The man looks on in horror and confusion at these words as he yells out once more in desperation "Then why?! they were nothing, nobodies!!!"
"Because they asked me to, because I must serve"
"Serve who?!?!"
The woman raises her sword to the sky with a single hand, looming over the man before her, "My name is Karihazel, and I serve the Fey Lord Azremal, Force of War"
The woman swiftly swings downward carving through the man in a mere instant. As his voice once filled with screams, suddenly drops to muffles as he chokes on his own blood and quickly falls limb to the ground dead.
The woman kneels before the man, the last of her kills for the day, reaching out and dipping her left hand into the fresh blood as it coats her fingers. Only to raise it higher and smear the crimson red onto her right gauntlet, covering a mysterious symbol carved into the metal. A brief moment passes as the woman closes her eyes. The symbol glows with power, a bright luminous red passing over it only to fade just as quickly.
Opening her eyes, she stands, sheathing her blade and leaves. Proceeding onward, peering into the distance she finds the towering castle and walls of the city of venamir in the distance.
YOU ARE READING
The Fey Walkers
FantasyThis story takes place within the world of Aylon, my own custom world originally created for my d&d campaign. Following four unlikely people who were brought together at the whim of a powerful archmage, they now serve him in by performing tasks h...
