This is my first attempt at writing such a story. I hope you all find it entertaining, or at least informative. It is not so much a story told for storytelling, but as to explain the history of Delmair. Hope it wasn't a waste of your time reading! =P
A title given only to the most fearsome and honorable of Cyric’s warriors. Reserved for those who make it through the ranks to command His hordes. Delmair Aamoren received this title as a result of years of faithful servitude to his cause.
Delmair’s service to the cause began in the month of Hammer, in the year 459.
Son of Ratiis Aamoren, Delmair was raised in servitude to Him. He did not, however follow in his fathers footsteps in all matters. Ratiis preferred stealth and misdirection of his opponents whereas Delmair preferred a more direct approach. Learning the arts of a warrior, and then devoting his life to Cyric, Delmair was on the road to becoming a name that is held with reverence, and also feared by many.
Delmair, merely twelve years old at this point, entered the ranks of the church of Cyric as nothing more than a soldier. Delmair enjoyed his niche in life. Working his way up the hierarchy through feats found favorable to the church and its followers, as well as by merely surviving as the other soldiers and officers died mercilessly in battle or to treachery from within the ranks. Avoiding such attacks came naturally to Delmair. His father told many stories of how he was used by the church to assassinate high-ranking officials, and on occasion doing some freelance work on the side. Given the detailed stories Ratiis was known for, Delmair learned quite a bit about avoiding dangerous situations. The lessons his father gave both in practice and in his tales kept more than a few daggers from ever reaching Delmair’s back.
As the years of service passed by, Delmair became increasingly close to his brothers of the faith. They gained some semblance of trust in one another, allowing the company that Delmair now served in as a sergeant to work as a well oiled machine. With many successful raids under his belt, the church of Cyric was proving to be well worth the time and effort. Delmair began to loose sight of his other goals. His previous aspirations of giving up his militant life, and retiring to a peaceful piece of land somewhere east of Bloodstone, his city of birth no longer held true. Giving up these feelings, these hopes, and these desires did nothing more than fuel his ambition and his devotion to Cyric. Becoming even more merciless and hot-headed, Delmair was a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention the small army of well-trained soldiers he now lead for the glory of Cyric.
A few more years passed, and Delmair grew older, wiser, and more experienced. With each passing day he began to realize he was more and more of a target. Not just within the warring factions of the church of Lathander, Kelemvor, Tyr, Torm, and a slew of other zealots, but from within the ranks of his Order. His presence was revered, his honor was envied. Those that served below him wanted to be him. The only way they stood a chance was if Delmair no longer existed. A fine thought for an aspiring commander, but much more easily thought of, than accomplished. Delmair’s leadership was marked with over a dozen failed assassination attempts. Attributing much of his success in surviving to what his father had told him, as he refused to believe in luck. Beyond what he could attribute to his personal knowledge he believed that Cyric protected him. A rather egotistical thought, as Cyric protects no one but himself, but given the history it was impossible to convince Delmair otherwise.
Of his accomplishments, there were many. In his early years he participated in raids on the faerie conclave east of Waterdeep and raids on various villages east of the hills of Quiestry. Also performing menial tasks and incursions into the cities of Havenport, Baldurs Gate, and of particular note, Scornbuel at the direction of his superiors. The trips to Scornbuel were rather frequent. From putting stress on the administration, to harassing the trade routes, whatever was necessary was completed without argument by Delmair and his company. The degree of success was such that it was mandated that there be a particular road named after him. Albeit a small road off the beaten path, it was one where a particularly large amount of “business” was accomplished. As his service continued and his fame grew, larger and more historically noted events became a part of his history, some of which included successful raids on the city of Waterdeep itself. Of particular note are a few trips taken to Jotunheim and Muspelheim. Branded “diplomatic” missions, Delmair and a number of those loyal to Cyric made trips to force the giantfolk into servitude, or at least a neutral standing in fear of the capabilities of those loyal to Cyric.
A few years into the future Delmair was forced from an “active” role in his position. Given that he was the longest to survive in the seat he held, those loyal to Cyric felt he no longer had the edge he once did, and it was time for his replacement. After multiple failed assassination attempts, the order could not afford to loose any more of their loyal assassins. So, in an event that has never before been heard of, he was allowed to maintain his title, but leave an “active” role in his position. Delmair was replaced by a younger, and perhaps more bloodthirsty individual. This made him quite unhappy. “Age, and experience cannot be replaced by vigor and carelessness.” Words made famous by Delmair, spoken originally in an attempt to maintain his active status. These words, although they held much truth, were not enough to sway the other elders of the order.
For a few months Delmair tried to exercise some semblance of command over his once loyal followers, but failed. Dishonored and disappointed, he now experienced something he hadn’t had much of before, some semblance of freedom. Although he was originally assigned an escort, as most figureheads reaching a venerable age did, he traveled where he pleased, as he pleased, when he pleased. His main focus of these outings he kept shrouded in secrecy. He traveled far and wide, seeking mages of all races and deities. His search ended when he found himself on the edge of hell, in a city called Ribcage. Inside the city he found what he had been searching for in the arch-lich Paracs. Through a deal he struck with Paracs, he was given the gift of youth. Renewing his age to one which allowed him to once again enter the battlefield with the vigor of youth along with a promise, a promise that he would never again feel the pain of age from a natural source. As a result of this deal, Delmair’s physical appearance changed. His skin grew more pale, and his eyes were altered. His eyes, now deep-socketed, were almost pupiless, with the majority of the visible portion black in color. This, giving the illusion that he had no eyes at all, just empty black sockets.
Delmair, with his newfound youth and vigor, returned to the church of Cyric to reclaim his leadership of his Order. Several years had passed since he held command, but he was confident that with their experience under his leadership, the Order would have grown in power. He could not have been more wrong. Power must have been too much for the new leadership to handle, as the numbers of the Order were but a small fraction of what they once were. The church of Cyric had suffered a major loss.
Losses weren’t unknown to Delmair, who was an overall success in his position, so he knew what had to be done. More recruiting, more training, and most of all,REVENGE!
For any/all of those that are:
a) evil or willing to become so
b) dedicated to, or willing to become dedicated to Cyric
c) interested in RP
I am going to be starting a pseudo guild, for the purposes of RP.
It will be completely informal as in no given titles (unless you write
the story for a L50 title) meant mostly for RP'ing. Of course the
participants will be expected to act as other Cyrites would towards
each other, etc. feel free to mmail me if interested.
Share your original RP stories here.
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