Tales of Erisa

Thus she made her way late one night to meet with the handsome boy from the village. He was waiting for her and Favra fell into his strong arms. He kissed her, warmly and sweetly, then with increasing urgency. Favra became frightened. This was happening too fast for the as yet inexperienced girl. But Dargo would not release Favra ... until he was through with her. Dargo's friends watched as the villager had his way with the helpless gypsy girl. No one made to stop him. After all, she was a simple gypsy, little more than a thief and a whore. When Dargo was finished, he offered the girl to his friends. To a man, they accepted. Six in all, Dargo and five of his mates, each took part in the defilement of Favra's innocence. When they were through, they took the girl to the edge of town and dumped her. Favra was not far from the wagons of her people. But she could not return there. Not now, not ever. Instead, she fled to the mountains. In her shame and rage, Favra called out to the gods--to Louhi--for the power to exact her revenge upon the villagers. Louhi heard ... and answered. Horrible, magical energy enveloped the young gypsy, unholy fire filled her womb. The seeds that had been planted inside her were quickened ... and changed. Seven weeks later, Favra gave birth, by herself in a cold dark cave high in the mountains, to two babies. One, the first born, was a completely normal child, at least in appearance. Beneath his left arm, however, was the mark. The boy was cursed, but the mark also spoke of incredible power. The second child ... well, it was anything but human. ***** A century ago, on the blessed and beautiful isle of Pellen, there was a king ... Pellen was a land at peace. The lords of the land, many by choice, some by brute force, had all come to recognize King Darrius as ruler over all Pellen. His sons, four in all, were all mighty warriors, but none were so beloved, cunning, and skilled as Prince Gedrick, the oldest of the four. Gedrick was a great knight, a brave adventurer of the highest order. He had fought many battles for his father and had yet to lose even one. He was a shining light in the eyes of his father, the king. The burden of ruling these lands weighed heavy upon the shoulders of the king. But he bent to the task with the determination and fairness that had won him the love of his people. Now the people were becoming increasingly concerned about the lands to the west of the island, across the Midnight Sea. Refugees from this place spoke of a hideous, powerful evil force. There were threats from the local people to turn away these refugee boats. They feared that things dark and sinister were hidden among the poor, desperate folk packed into the holds. Those fears were not unfounded ... strange creatures had arisen near the refugee camps, vile creatures, half man and half ... something else. So it was that the king sent his eldest son out, with thirty fully armed and manned warships, to put an end to the evil arising in the west. It was a dark and violent campaign that lasted over a decade. The forces of evil included nightmare creatures the likes of which the people of Pellen could not have imagined, all under the ruthless command of a dark sorcerer name DeMornte. Gedrick would never have stood a chance alone against such evil, but on his side was a quite powerful cleric named Xelestine. She was a true holy woman, blessed with a brilliant mind, beauty, and undying devotion to Pellen and the God of the Dawn, Heldar.

The sorcerer DeMornte, perhaps foreseeing his own defeat, sought to eliminate the single greatest threat to himself and his unholy rule over the land that bore his name. He left his stronghold high in the Stormridge Mountains and entered the camp of Prince Gedrick under the cloak of night. He stole the beautiful cleric away, kidnaping and imprisoning her in his lofty keep. Gedrick was enraged. Not only was Xelestine his greatest weapon, the woman was also, secretly, the love of his life. He mounted a great assault against the forces of DeMornte and battled through, at untold costs in the lives of his own men, to the very base of the sorcerer's great tower. The heroic prince led a handful of his best men into the tower to face the dark mage. They were uncommonly fortunate as the group bested the last of the sorcerer's minions and defeated the most deadly of traps. Ultimately, their group of five came face to face with the evil that was DeMornte. The five went in ... only one came out. For DeMornte now faced them with an ally of his own ... Xelestine. The once radiant cleric had been turned and twisted into some kind of vile shadow of her former holiness through DeMornte's dark magics. He had know that she could not be defeated ... only turned. Transfixed by his own horror at Xelestine's fate, Gedrick was powerless to stop the slaughter of his fellow heroes. One after another, they fell ... the silver tongued scout named Fiorello ... the bullish yet gentle warrior called Rondar ... Corwin mac Rand, the privateer turned priest ... and last, the mult-talented warrior mage.known simply as Marchan the Meek. To a man, they died as heroes often do ... violently. When Prince Gedrick stumbled out of the tower, he was but a shell of the warrior that had entered just an hour before. His eyes were vacant, haunted, as they fell upon the countless corpses that had once been his followers. For Prince Gedrick, the journey had only begun ... ***** Almost one-hundred years ago, in the shadow cursed land called Demornte, there lived an all powerful sorcerer and his dark priestess ... The dark land of Demornte was doomed. Gedrick the Cursed, once a prince of Pellen, now called Golgoleth, had returned. His endless travels were at an end, the object of his quest in hand. A fateful meeting with the Drow a year before had given him the secret to the Sorcerer's defeat. DeMornte had a brother. Or was it a sister? Truth told, is was a demon the likes of which no living man had ever seen. A cackling, ancient, blind gypsy witch met him at the entrance to its cavern. The witch woman made every attempt to lure Golgoleth away. She exposed her wrinkled up and withered body to the former prince. The sight of her foul naked skin, bursting with oozing sores, would have made a normal man mad with horror. Then, before his eyes, the vile thing transformed into the most beautiful young gypsy girl any man had ever seen. Such was her beauty that Golgoleth was nearly undone. The gypsy girl's radiant loveliness called to him, breaking through his endless night of despair and promising one last taste of true joy. But, at the final possible moment, the girl's face transformed into that of Xelestine, beloved of Prince Gedrick, the man he once was and desperately wanted to be again. With a cry of anguish, Golgoleth hurled the witch to the side. She slammed into the cave wall and exploded in a cloud of stinking black dust. The thing inside the cave was waiting. The Drow had called it "Lahkstra-toh Davvalt Ih" ... the Child of Louhi. It had another name, one that had been given it by its own mother. No man living had ever spoken it. Even the Drow had dared only to write it down. Golgoleth spoke the name. The Child awoke. For the power to defeat its brother, the Child asked a very high price of the once proud, now shattered prince. Golgoleth paid the bounty asked; anymore, Golgoleth's soul retained very little of value to him anyway. The Priestess awoke in her bedchamber and realized she was not alone. That night, Gedrick came to her. For the briefest of moments, both of these beings saw through the shadows of what they had become to recognize what they had once been. They touched. Somewhere, it is said, on another plane were such things are possible, love that had long been denied was given life. Two beings of the purest light merged ... transformed ... loved anew. Then blew apart in a rainbow burst of energy that birthed a million stars. Or so it is said. There in the her bedchamber, the Priestess stepped naked into the arms of death. Golgoleth sank his teeth in her pale flesh and drained her blood, then her life. With a cry of unholy rage, he twisted and ripped the priestess' head from her body. In his hands, Xelestine's eyes retained a small spark of life, looking out at Golgoleth from her detached skull. As that last feeble light faded, the cleric seemed to smile. Golgoleth closed his own eyes and pushed his powerful hands together, squeezing the lifeless skull between them until it exploded in a wet splash of gore and bone. Then the vampire gave rise to a spell of purifying fire that consumed Xelestine's physical form, every scrap of her flesh bursting into holy blue flame, and freed her soul from the darkness. Xelestine's soul was free. Gedrick's was forfeit. Blood stained Golgoleth's lips, dripping from his chin as he strode purposefully from the Priestess' room and toward the final confrontation with the former lord of Demornte. The mountains shook. The skies rolled with violent, thunderous storms. The great stone keep that had lasted one hundred years was rent asunder and razed to the ground. In a hidden cavern deep in the Stormridge Mountains, a thin, wrinkled gypsy crone wrapped a rotting, threadbare shawl around her naked, puss-ridden body ... and wept. ***** Many years ago, in a shadowy land of ancient evil, a new king was risen ... It was a new age for the long suffering peoples of Demornte. Two years ago, King Golgoleth had declared himself ruler of all the land. Through magic or other means, he had ruthlessly slew any being that dared to stand against him. The streets ran red in every major city of Demornte. In Akkharia, Count Lethuar had organized an army to oppose this upstart king. He had searched long and hard for a general to lead this army. Soon after he found such a man, Lethuar was found dead, drained of every drop of blood and dismembered in his own bed, with no trace of the assassin anywhere. Of course, everyone new who was responsible; the Count's brave new general wasted not a moment before declaring his allegiance, and that of his armies, to the rightful King of Demornte ... Golgoleth. Golgoleth raised a great walled palace on a hill overlooking the city of Akkharia. From there, he directed his generals and others on the daily tasks of running a kingdom. His armies advanced on the so called free cities to the south and brought them each under the Vampyre King's rule. Ultimately, they even drove the Drow out of their warrens and pushed them all the way south to Sellonar. For Demornte, the new king turned out to be the lesser of evils. Despite the fact that the kingdom still bore his name, the sorcerer DeMornte was best forgotten. For his part, Golgoleth was a fair if ruthless tyrant. None dare oppose him, but those that swore allegiance to the throne were treated quite well. Merchants could thrive in Demornte, indeed even in Akkharia itself, with the blessing of the king. If one remained loyal to the king, almost any manner of villainy was ignored. Wizards were granted leave to study the darkest of arts. The most powerful of these mages were even granted audiences with the king. Temples were erected to honor Louhi. Other dark gods were also worshiped, though not as openly for Louhi enjoyed the favor of the king. In Akkharia, the grandest, most lavish temple in all of Erisa was erected to honor the Mother of Demons. Every three years, Golgoleth took a bride. No one could ever say whether or not the king loved his wives or not. Just as none could ever say what ever happened to Golgoleth's other wives when he wedded anew. It came to pass that a ship of Pellen, a royal vessel, on its way home from Sellonar, was caught in a raging storm on the Midnight Sea and grounded on the shores of Demornte. The passengers were taken in and treated well by the people of Akkharia. As was the custom, the royal passengers were invited to the palace for an audience with the king. Among their number was a young woman, a noble borne beauty of the house of Argas from the great city in Pellen which bore her family's name. She was called the Lady Rissa, and she was betrothed to Prince Darrius II, a boy destined to be king of all Pellen. Golgoleth loved the woman from the moment his eyes fell upon her. Could a vampire truly know such depth of emotion? Perhaps not. But it did not matter, for Xelestine had also been of the Argas line ... and sweet Rissa was a mirror image of Prince Gedrick's beloved. Lady Rissa's time as Golgoleth's guest was magical. The King's retainers, guardsmen, and chamberlain were all amazed at the change her presence brought to their Lord's gloomy palace, even to the King himself. Repairs were made to Rissa's ship, albeit rather slowly. Eventually, despite the numerous delays, the vessel was seaworthy once again. When it finally set sail, the people of Akkharia could be heard to say that the sun followed in its wake. But Golgoleth would not lose his new found love without a fight. And, not since his first visit to the unholy keep at Stormridge, had Golgoleth lost a fight. Within days, an armada of great black ships set sail from Akkharia in pursuit of the King's desire. Golgoleth's flagship landed at the port city of Dunning. Within the day, the ships had belched forth an army of calvary and archers, infantry and grey clad knights. The governor of Dunning believed he was witnessing an invasion; he sent messengers out to the capital city of Abalayn to raise the alarm. He dared not engage such a force with his own militia, so the governor let the invaders pass without conflict as they set out upon the road to Abalayn. Led by a great golden carriage pulled by a team of ten white horses, the entourage from Demornte began its march to the capital city of the Isle and the ivory white walls of Abalayn. Traveling both day and night, the Demornte force arrived at the gates of Abalayn within a week and without incident. Castle Darrius, so named in honor of Pellen's former King and his line, shone like a jewel in the center Abalayn. It was home to King Beltron, Lord of the Isle. Within the Castle, Lady Rissa awaited. A lone rider wearing the rank of a Demornte General rode out to the gate to deliver a message from his Lord. Witnesses at the walls of Abalayn watched the activity in a state of awe, mixed with a healthy dose of fear. The Demornte General was greeted at the gate. There, he handed over a scroll bearing the seal of none other than King Darrius himself. It was well after nightfall before the Castle could make all the arrangements to properly greet their noble visitor from Demornte. Finally, the gates were opened to receive the golden carriage and it occupant. The amassed army waited outside the walls as the gates were closed again. The carriage rolled into the courtyard of Castle Darrius where the King and his brothers waited, as did a hundred other nobles, including crown prince Darrius II and the Lady Rissa. The crowd erupted with a spontaneous gasp of awe when the carriage doors were opened and Golgoleth strode forth. None could mistake the distinctive profile that marked the ruling family of Pellen. Many of those present, including the Queen Mother, recognized the man before them as who he was ... or had once been. King Darrius' first and most beloved son, Gedrick. The people of Pellen had mourned the death of King Darrius nearly twenty years before. Some said the king died of despair when his oldest son failed to return from the war. The throne then belonged to the next in the line of succession ... Beltron. The first in line would have been Gedrick. The truth of this never entered King Beltron's mind as he rushed to embrace his long lost brother. The coldness of Golgoleth's return embrace may have escaped the king as well. The gates of the city opened the next morning to admit the Demornte army. A week long celebration was begun to mark the return of the Prince. Much transpired over those seven days; of them all, only the Queen Mother and her grandson, Darrius II, realized what was happening, what Prince Gedrick had become, what King Golgoleth truly was. On the morning of the seventh day, the Queen Mother, an ordained Priestess of the Order of the Dawn, cast a spell of protection which gave Darrius the time he needed to drive a stake through the heart of his true love and onetime fiance, thus saving Lady Rissa from the unholy fate that awaited her as Golgoleth's queen. The Vampyre King was awakened by Rissa's death cry ... her true-death. By the time Golgoleth broke through the wards protecting her bed chamber, Lady Rissa was lost to him forever. Golgoleth's rage was ... beyond description. A silent order went out to his armies to find the killer and slay anything and anyone who dared to thwart the vampire's thirst for revenge. Golgoleth's minions were uniquely zealous as they went about the task. The gates of the city were drawn shut and the citizens of Abalayn died by the thousands, trapped within their glorious city's sheltering white walls. Darrius, the Queen Mother, and several of the royal family's as yet untainted children had all gone into hiding in the catacombs beneath the castle. But when the bodies of the dead began to surface in the underground pools, Darrius had no choice but to come out of hiding. The horror that had become of his home and the city was beyond comprehension for the youth. While the Queen Mother spirited the surviving children away from the dread castle and out of the doomed city, Darrius went to his father Beltron, the man who had given up his throne to Golgoleth. The man that Darrius found was nothing like the father he had once known. Darrius recognized almost immediately what his father had become. Still, to put an end to the slaughter of the people of Abalayn, Darrius went willingly to face the wrath of the Vampyre King. Golgoleth had made the same offer to each of his brothers: "Join me. Rule by my side as my equals and I will spare your loved ones. They will be exiled, but they will leave this place unharmed." Two of Golgoleth's brothers joined him, offering their blood to the Vampyre King in exchange for immortality and the safety of their families. The last, the youngest, Miakkel, refused. He had witness the transformation of his brothers and new that the price was too high, even to spare the life of his own wife. Perhaps, if Mikkel had been blessed with children, he may have chosen differently. As it was, his wife was horrified by his decision and, in her rage at his perceived betrayal, she begged Golgoleth to take her instead of her husband. Her name was Selitha and she was the eldest sister of Lady Rissa. Once she was transformed, Golgoleth made a gift of Miakkel to Selitha. The newly born vampiress accepted Golgoleth's generous offer without reservation. Miakkel would take several tortuous days to finally die, then arise again as an undead, near mindless servant to his murderous wife. Ironically, once transformed, Miakkel's brothers were both consumed by a terrible rage against those they had spared when human. Though Golgoleth was true to his word, the newly born Vampyre Kings hunted their own kin throughout the city of Abalayn and the surrounding countryside. None would have survived the dreadful thirst of the creatures who had once been their husbands and fathers if not for the Queen Mother. The few that remained under her protection eventually escaped, most abandoning the doomed Isle forever. The gates of Abalayn remained closed for three moons. After that, for too many years to come, they would only open to disgorge death and destruction in the form of Golgoleth's Darkhorde, Eventually, though it would take years, no living thing remained within the walls of the once great city. Golgoleth returned to Demornte, taking the lady Selitha with him to rule by his side and leaving his brothers behind to rule over Pellen in his name. And what became of Darrius? He was never seen again ... not by human eyes. His ultimate fate is not known, at least not for certain. Many stories have been told, all of them equally plausible And equally unthinkable.