Backstory & Lore Backup


Authors
Imply
Published
2 months, 8 days ago
Updated
2 months, 8 days ago
Stats
3 1740

Entry 1
Published 2 months, 8 days ago
970

Mild Violence

This is ".." lore and story i've written on DnD beyond. ".." is a place holder for my name until i decide on one.

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Backstory


".." for the first early years of his life lived in the valley side pasture of Shimmering Gardens a gorgeous grassland that separated Glimmering Woods and The Shadow Wilds. As young centaur foal he would run through the tall glistening fields that gently swayed in cool breezes that drifted through their valley, often exploring the edge of Glimmering Woods that crept shining curiosities into the grassland. ".." would bring glowing flora and peculiar insects home to show his mother who was a gather for their small tribe.

 One night a churning wail passed through the fields, twisting and weaving through their homes bringing with it a night darker than no other. Not a single star could be seen and the moon sat almost eclipse by it, the tribes defenders fell blind with torches barely able to break light into the shroud and in this darkness night not one by one but almost simultaneously they were struck down. Hooves shook the land from centaur fleeing or defending their homes and as each left the cover of their homes another cry of anguish was drawn into the wailing winds. ".." Awoken from slumber by his mother and fathers cries crept from his bed on shaken hooves, only 12 at the time the young boy didn't understand what dire situations could have been unfolding outside, with each step towards their homes exit the curdling winds swept away on its travels back into the valley and towards The Shadow Wilds. ".." Found the door heavy, he could not leave his home and now filled with terror the poor child started to cry, calling out for his parents he mastered up his equine courage to kick at their mud stone crafted walls until the chipped, cracked and broke free enough for him to pass through to outside. His home of shimmering gardens was no more the darkness had passed and left behind a field of death, the dead, his tribe. Frightened for his parents ".." hastened his step towards the homes barricade only to be met with his deceased mother and father lain blackened by death against it. Distraught he lays beside his family, curled up while his tears drain from his face until they no longer can, days pass ".." worn down and numb is left no choice but to leave his parents and his home incapable of properly burying them. Taking his mothers dagger to defend himself he finally parts slowly trudging towards The Shadow wilds in search for foods and water, a poor choice in direction but with a sense of judgment clouded by grief  and a aching stomach his path was made. ".." walked for hours until he could no more, his body covered in filth and his legs worn out he fell to a fallen log and crawled in to slumber, to lie in wait for his mother and father.

Another moon had passed, ".." without much more energy to give found himself stood over by a strange and twisted figure. The unsettling sound of shifting ivory creaking in the still woods this figure bends abnormally to look the child in the eye, he looked of death and smelt of wet soil while adorned in a suit of old era. Feeling to worn to fight ".." stared the stranger down having been draped in such great loss the child's heart now runs cold, left numb to death and mourning tragedy.  This darkness over him sense the stranger outstretches a boney thin hand holding a fruited steam bun in its leathery dry grasp, the scent to comforting to deny his starved stomach the young centaur accepts. Joyed the corpse like figure responds out aloud his voice hushed and strained "Chiiild" , dim deathly sockets lacking anything but a dull near invisible glow turn to look behind, there stood in robes of black a "wizard" figure watching with curiosity . In reply a stern yet humble voice of a man speaks out to his reanimated corpse friend known as Dezar " ahhh, a child I see and with such torment so young how...unforgiving. Surprising anyone be let live by such monstrosities. " Holding out his hand as Dezar steps back the man introduces himself as "Terow, Terow Gravemore" his words soft and inviting ".." Eventually draws into the two and embraces the comfort of another living adult.

 After a grim slaughter of his parents and a peculiar meeting of strangers ".." Lived as an adopted child and student of Terow Gravemore and bonded with Dezar who acted both as guardian and friend.  His home wasn't much yet its walls filled with odd curiosities always kept him intrigued to what would be found next, ".." remained reclusive in the woods still holding a fear of The Shadow wilds that surrounded their manor he took to following Terow's path of necromancy. A path of communication, re animation, alchemy, undead puppeteering and botany knowledge. Rather than seeking decay and destruction from their crafts  his sight was on fascination, understanding and creativity, having the ability to speak and create from darkness. ".." studied alongside his adoptive father until he too passed, fallen ill at the age of 57 Terow bestowed his son with bonds to Dezar and the story of the mans true origin. Dezar once known as "Dezar The Darkheart" was a formidable old era alchemist found deceased from his own experimental undoing, buried in a graveyard of Elderhollow a town of old lore and traditions that backed onto The Shadow Wilds he lives again as Terows first "living" puppet. Though Dezar didn't mind forming a necrotic duo with Terow but to sustain his new life he must be paired with a necromancer capable and versed in his "creators" studies and with this bond he to will aid the necromancer with his own knowledge.

 Now left as a dark duo ".." Ventures out into new lands carrying his corpse friend upon his hind back.