History of Bloodrise

Bloodrise the Slaymate, Marionette of the Troupe of Despair, Count of the blasted lands of Nyshra. Lord Zaxel Coldstar. I have gone by all of these names in my time. Ever since that faithful day two thousand years ago, a night that robbed me of my life, my mortality, and my sanity.

I remembered it was raining, the bitter wind and cold night made the rain hit me like a million shards of glass. I was an Elven Lord, fighting my way through this downpour to the nearest inn. I was in the lands of Kervaldur, a quiet domain with little to offer other than bleak mountainsides and freezing weather. This wouldn't sound like a likely home for a lich lord, but my sources of information were never wrong. The next town of Juthra, was hiding this lord of undeath.

Every step I took seemed to make it rain harder, make the slashing wind stronger, and the night sky even darker, to where I felt like I was walking in a dark void. I pressed on, remembering my purpose, and the lives I would be saving kept my resolve. After what felt like days, I finally saw lights in the distance. Another short while, and I was trudging along past the main gates of the small town, the town guard not even bothering to check me, trying to stay out of the rain.

After a few minutes I finally found the inn, a small two-story building with the sounds of laughter and merriment ringing from the doors. I pushed my way in, dripping wet from the torrent of rain. The merriment seemed to die out almost instantly at the sight of a foreigner, but then as quickly as it got quiet, the bard began playing his hurdy-gurdy and the inn went back to normal. Seeing a fireplace I immediately made my way to it's comforting embrace, the warmth returning feeling to my sore limbs. After a few minutes, a pretty barmaid approached, looking no older than sixteen she gave me a quick glance up and down.
"Can I get you something sire?" She asked with a rosy smile.

"Could you get me some warm wine and whatever meat and cheese you have" I replied through chattering teeth.

With a polite nod she walked off, taking a couple more orders before disappearing behind the bar, I returned my attention to the fire, some of my clothes under my elven plate armor drying up, I decided to pull up a chair and rest my road-worn legs. I had been walking for almost a week, traveling from my home of Evertree in Nyshra. A small brigade of undead warrirors and beasts attacked the borders of my homeland, led by a Lich of considerable power. A seer of quite repute had told me many years before a time would come when I would have to defend my home and country against an evil of great power, and only I would be able to face it. We were successful in defeating the minions, but the Lich escaped, and I began my three year pursuit of the foul being. All of my leads brought me to this town, and here I would end an evil that threatened my home.

The barmaid soon returned, with a tray of smoked rabbit and a steaming goblet of red wine, she gently rested the tray on my lap, and handed the goblet to me with an intoxicating smile.

"That will be two silver pieces milord," she politely extended her hand.

I pulled out a small gold coin instead and placed it in her hand.

"Please also get me a key to a room, and keep the change milady," I quietly replied.

She blushed a deep crimson from the tip she had just received and quickly rushed back to the bar. I slowly ate the bits of meat she brought me, the tender bits of rabbit were satisfyingly warm and juicy, along with the wine, made a fine dinner. Looking back at this I regret that my last meal as a mortal was as frugal as it was. But I could not forsee what the gods had in store for me that night, that faithful night that would change me forever....

(to be continued)