jydog1
Explorer
Backstories #1! - Londis the Inquisitor
I've been lax at getting back stories up, so let's see if I can remedy that. As they are long I'll try to put them behind cuts. Wish my luddite ass luck.
Nope, I have no idea how to do it and no time to look right now. Another time, perhaps.
Londis Vaelar Baelarn was born the son of a cobbler in Korvosa nearly 32 summers ago. He lived with his mother, Marilis, and father, Galstock, in the poor quarter, helping around the shop, and running errands for the local merchants for copper pennies. He was not an exceptional child, but would frequently wander into the noble quarter of the city, marveling at the grandeur and opulence of the nobility, dreaming of one day joining that world as some long lost prince or the son of some duke, or at least a wealthy and influential merchant. But Londis was none of these things, and the guards would chase he and his friends from the streets and alleys back into the poor quarter and his simple life full of work and banality.
Galstock was for the most part a respectable man. He kept his shop in good order, was mostly good to his wife and son, kept his nose clean, and paid the protection money that was a fact of life for those in their part of the city. He wasn't successful, but made some decent coin. Unfortunately, this coin was usually spent down at the docks gambling, and his wife had to work extra time at the shop to make ends meet. Still, they got by, and Londis looked to be apprenticed to some other craftsmen in the city and live a quiet life as a common laborer.
When Londis was twelve years old, however, his parents had another child, a little baby girl named Rathonia. Londis' mother could no longer afford the time to work in the shop, and so his father fell behind on his gambling debts. The more he lost, the more he gambled to try and win it back, pushing him down a vicious spiral towards a mountain of debt and no way to pay it. He was starting to get behind on his protection money, and both his bookies and the local gangs were threatening his shop on nearly a daily basis.
In desperation, Galstock turned to the very crime lords that demanded tribute from him for a way out. They told him of a local noble and warlock, who kept his name secret but was known as the Perfumed Man, who was paying for children born under a certain sign, one that his son just so happened to be born under The amount was huge, double what Galstock owed and more, but Galstock could never see his child again. The Perfumed Man would take them and disappear. He did not want any meddlers in his affairs.
And so it was that one night Galstock awoke Londis deep in the middle of the night, telling him to pack his things and get dressed. He was going to live with a noble, he was told, to be a prince and live a life of luxury and comfort. Londis leapt from bed, full of excitement, stuffing his favorite possessions into a bag and pulling on his finest clothing. He nearly ran from the house with his father, following him through the streets to a colorfully dressed hooded man outside an abandoned shop. He smelled heavily of perfume, and wore a blue mask that covered the top half of his face. He was flanked by a pair of men in black cloaks carrying wicked looking hooked blades, who eyed Londis and his father warily as they approached
The Perfumed Man smiled a broad, malicious smile that never touched his eyes at Londis. He thanked Galstock and handed him a huge bag of coins, and the two spoke in whispered phrases for a few minutes before Galstock turned and said his goodbyes to Londis, promising that he and his mother would come visit soon and that he should be on his best behavior and do whatever the Perfumed Man said. With that he left, and Londis never saw him again.
With that he was whisked away by wagon to the noble quarter, and spent the next several weeks living a life of luxury. He ate strange foods and was made to repeat strange, chanted prayers to wicked looking statues and idols. Trhough it all the Perfumed Man was there, always wearing his mask, always smiling his malicious smile, guiding Londis through the rituals and full of promises of riches and wonders should he be diligent and obedient for only a few weeks longer, till a certain day when his work would all be rewarded.
The weeks passed and the day finally came. Londis was adorned in the finest of clothing and perfumes, and made to chant all day to the evil figures. At night he was led into a deep basement chamber he had never been to before, filled with hooded figures dressed similarly to the Perfumed Man arranged in a circle around a vast, arcane symbol. To its side was a long table flanked by a smaller one draped in a fine velvet cloth. In the midst of it all was the Perfumed Man, smiling his dead smile and directing the hooded figures about the chamber.
Londis was led to the tables by four of the hooded figures. Without warning, they threw him upon it and began chanting, as the Perfumed Man lifted the velvet cloth from the nearby table, revealing a huge array of stylized daggers, scalpels, and other instruments of pain. Londis screamed and begged to know what was happening, but the Perfumed Man only smiled and picked up the nearest dagger with his finely gloved hands, and began to chant as he drew closer to Londis.
The tortures inflicted that night do not bear repeating. Suffice it to say that they were horrific. The ritual continued through the night, and as it did, a shadowy figure began to take shape in the midst of the circle. It was hazy at first, indistinct, but as the night went on it began to take on shape and definition. It was huge, a thing of shadows and teeth, of curved spikes and claws and flames, and eyes of deepest malevolence. It did not move at first, but as it took shape it began to stalk about the summoning circle, eyeing the ritualists and the Perfumed Man, as if impatient and eager to be free.
As the night drew to a close and the Perfumed Man reached the last of his torture implements, a large, jeweled spike with three blades, one of the ritualists began to stumble over his words. The fatigue of the long night, and the intense, primal fear he felt when faced with the demon took its toll on him, and though he desperately sputtered on, his words lost coherence and meaning, and thus power over the demon. As his words fell further and further into dissaray, the demon sensed the interruption and stopped its pacing, stooping down to stare directly into the ritualists face. It was then that his words broke, and with them all hell broke loose. Even as the spike was held above Londis to deal the killing blow, the demon reached out and snatched the man, tearing him to shreds, before starting on the other ritualists. Bodies flew everywhere, blood splattered the walls, and the ritual broke down completely as chaos ensued.
In the resulting confusion, Londis had just enough sense left to jerk free and run. He ran until he left the basement, out of the the chamber. He ran out of the large, opulent villa in the noble quarter, until he left it all far behind. He ran until his legs gave out and his lungs nearly burst, and he finally collapsed in the streets and passed out.
Back in the chamber, amidst the carnage and chaos, the Perfumed Man sighed. Raising his hands into the sky, pillars of white-hot flame crashed down amongst the remaining cultists, burning them to cinders. As the last of the cultists perished, the demon faded from view, howling with rage. Smiling once more, the Perfumed Man turned and strode slowly from the room, signalling the shocked cultists outside to clean up the mess.
Londis was found outside of a dwarven temple to Torag, god of protection and the forge. The leader of the temple, Murnick, took pity on the injured young boy, and used his healing magics to nurture him back to health. He could not, however, heal the wicked scars that now covered most of his face and body. He was given a job cleaning up the temple, one he was all too eager to take as he now had nowhere else to go. He could not trust his family any longer, and was terrified that if he went out the Perfumed Man would capture him again. He kept mostly to himself, never speaking of what befell him at the villa, and while he was there he learned of the teachings of Torag, and the value of protecting others who could not protect themselves from harm. He also learned of the power one could gain from devotion, as the clerics performed magics of healing and blessing for the faithful. He learned during the days, and during the nights he fell asleep dreaming of revenge, and awoke screaming from his nightmares. Murnick saw the darkness clouding the young man's heart, and did his best to guide Londis towards wisdom and peace.
As Londis aged he grew less fearful of the world, and felt the yearnings of a young man to find his destiny. His growing bitterness also left him with a thirst for violence that couldn't be quenched in the peaceful halls of the temple. And so when Londis was seventeen he left the priests of Torag, to the protestations of Murnick, and joined a traveling mercenary group known as the Gauntlets of Fortune, which had just been contracted to defend merchant ships sailing between Korvosa and the Chelaxian empire.
For the few years Londis spent aboard the ships, he was happy. The mercenary group was led by a man named Joruf, a barbarian from the Shoanti highlands who had come south to make his fortune with his strength and swordsmanship. He took Londis under his wing, teaching him how to fight, how to move around in armor, and how to navigate by the stars and keep himself alive when all he had was his wits and a hunting knife. He also told him the many wondrous things he'd seen in his travels, of sea serpents that could swallow a man whole and of forest creatures that could steal his mind with their beauty, and all the other wondrous and terrifying things he had seen. Together they slew pirates and thieves, and sailed the seas raking in a small fortune.
But eventually the work dried up. The shipping companies that hired the Gauntlets went out of business or became successful enough to employ their own guards, and the men of the company grew restless at the lack of work. Joruf saw the unhappiness of his men, and told them he had found a job that would pay them all handsomely. He gathered up Londis and the other men, and led them onto the roads on the grasslands surrounding Korvosa, until they came upon a travelling caravan. Smiling at the company, Joruf motioned to the caravan and told them he had found them new work, a Varisian caravan that traded Thassilonian artifacts between the great cities. Plundering their wares would keep the men happy and wealthy for months. Excited at the prospect of riches, the men charged the caravan, and battle broke out between the caravan guards and the mercenary company.
Appalled at the actions of Joruf and the men, Londis stood frozen near the fighting, conflicted. Every instinct from his years of learning the ways of Torag told him to help the people of the caravan, but to do so he would have to stop his friends, and more importantly, his mentor. He thought about what his life would be like amongst the mercenaries, looting and pillaging for the rest of his bloody days with his companions, living a life of riches. He strode up to Joruf just as he was finishing off one of the caravan guards, who greeted him warmly and gestured out amongst the caravan to Londis, telling him the first pick of treasure was his.
With a heavy heart Londis hefted his mace and struck in the back of the head with all his might, praying that Torag would guide his hand. Joruf fell to the ground, motionless, and Londis fell among the rest of the company, felling any he could reach and turning the tide against the now leaderless mercenaries. The caravan archers, however, saw his uniform amidst the chaos and shot him, piercing his side with a poisoned arrow. Londis grabbed his horse and fled, riding towards Korvosa to collapse injured in front of the temple of Torag as he had so many years ago.
As he was nursed back to health once more, he told Murnick of what had happened in his years away. Londis begged forgiveness for straying from his faith and for ever thinking of showing mercy to the wicked. He swore oaths to his god to ferret out those would be harm the innocent and put them to a swift death. Murnick, seeing for the first time an outlet for the violence in the man's heart towards good, gave Londis his blessing, and instructed him in the ways of divine magic. He told him of the inquisitors, godly warriors who rooted out any who opposed their gods principles and destroyed them, who had the freedom to act in ways the clergy could not. He told of how the inquisitors of Torag could not reveal their association with the church, as their ways were radical and frowned upon, if effective. Finally he told Londis of several minor criminals in the surrounding towns that were terrorizing the local peoples, murderers, rapists, and the like.
Taking up the sacred warhammer of the monastery, and the armor and equipment he had earned as a mercenary, Londis struck out and sought the criminals. Using his martial prowess, intimidation, threats of torture, and newfound divine magic, he tracked them to their dens and dispatched them, leaving a terrified, angry, but safer populace in his wake. While Murnick disapproved of Londis' methods, he could not argue with his results. Londis had not crossed the line into evil, though he tread upon it nearly every day. Longing to spread his justice into the world, Londis left the temple once again, this time filled with a sense of purpose and self righteousness.
He made his living adventuring, killing minor beasts that plagued the populace, or preying on small time criminals against whom there was not enough evidence to imprison or hang. More than once he was chased from town after killing some criminal without a chance to bring him to trial. From time to time he would stop back at the temple of Torag, to seek the wisdom of Murnick and the guidance of his god to smite only the wicked. Then one day he returned to find Murnick holding a letter, requesting help from a father Xanthis in Sandport to deal with a growing goblin problem, and immediately set off to lend what aid he could, and protect the people of Sandport by punishing the evils who might dwell there.
Notes on Londis:
Londis' smile he does to intimidate people is the same as the Perfumed Man's, he subconsciously emulates it.
Londis has never physically tortured anyone. He finds the practice deplorable. But he knows the effectiveness of the threat of torture.
Londis has not forgotten the Perfumed Man. One day when he is strong enough he wishes to return to Korvosa and find him.
On Londis' person is a brief history of what happened when he was a child, as well as a request that if he dies someone stops the Perfumed Man in his place.
I've been lax at getting back stories up, so let's see if I can remedy that. As they are long I'll try to put them behind cuts. Wish my luddite ass luck.
Nope, I have no idea how to do it and no time to look right now. Another time, perhaps.
Londis Vaelar Baelarn was born the son of a cobbler in Korvosa nearly 32 summers ago. He lived with his mother, Marilis, and father, Galstock, in the poor quarter, helping around the shop, and running errands for the local merchants for copper pennies. He was not an exceptional child, but would frequently wander into the noble quarter of the city, marveling at the grandeur and opulence of the nobility, dreaming of one day joining that world as some long lost prince or the son of some duke, or at least a wealthy and influential merchant. But Londis was none of these things, and the guards would chase he and his friends from the streets and alleys back into the poor quarter and his simple life full of work and banality.
Galstock was for the most part a respectable man. He kept his shop in good order, was mostly good to his wife and son, kept his nose clean, and paid the protection money that was a fact of life for those in their part of the city. He wasn't successful, but made some decent coin. Unfortunately, this coin was usually spent down at the docks gambling, and his wife had to work extra time at the shop to make ends meet. Still, they got by, and Londis looked to be apprenticed to some other craftsmen in the city and live a quiet life as a common laborer.
When Londis was twelve years old, however, his parents had another child, a little baby girl named Rathonia. Londis' mother could no longer afford the time to work in the shop, and so his father fell behind on his gambling debts. The more he lost, the more he gambled to try and win it back, pushing him down a vicious spiral towards a mountain of debt and no way to pay it. He was starting to get behind on his protection money, and both his bookies and the local gangs were threatening his shop on nearly a daily basis.
In desperation, Galstock turned to the very crime lords that demanded tribute from him for a way out. They told him of a local noble and warlock, who kept his name secret but was known as the Perfumed Man, who was paying for children born under a certain sign, one that his son just so happened to be born under The amount was huge, double what Galstock owed and more, but Galstock could never see his child again. The Perfumed Man would take them and disappear. He did not want any meddlers in his affairs.
And so it was that one night Galstock awoke Londis deep in the middle of the night, telling him to pack his things and get dressed. He was going to live with a noble, he was told, to be a prince and live a life of luxury and comfort. Londis leapt from bed, full of excitement, stuffing his favorite possessions into a bag and pulling on his finest clothing. He nearly ran from the house with his father, following him through the streets to a colorfully dressed hooded man outside an abandoned shop. He smelled heavily of perfume, and wore a blue mask that covered the top half of his face. He was flanked by a pair of men in black cloaks carrying wicked looking hooked blades, who eyed Londis and his father warily as they approached
The Perfumed Man smiled a broad, malicious smile that never touched his eyes at Londis. He thanked Galstock and handed him a huge bag of coins, and the two spoke in whispered phrases for a few minutes before Galstock turned and said his goodbyes to Londis, promising that he and his mother would come visit soon and that he should be on his best behavior and do whatever the Perfumed Man said. With that he left, and Londis never saw him again.
With that he was whisked away by wagon to the noble quarter, and spent the next several weeks living a life of luxury. He ate strange foods and was made to repeat strange, chanted prayers to wicked looking statues and idols. Trhough it all the Perfumed Man was there, always wearing his mask, always smiling his malicious smile, guiding Londis through the rituals and full of promises of riches and wonders should he be diligent and obedient for only a few weeks longer, till a certain day when his work would all be rewarded.
The weeks passed and the day finally came. Londis was adorned in the finest of clothing and perfumes, and made to chant all day to the evil figures. At night he was led into a deep basement chamber he had never been to before, filled with hooded figures dressed similarly to the Perfumed Man arranged in a circle around a vast, arcane symbol. To its side was a long table flanked by a smaller one draped in a fine velvet cloth. In the midst of it all was the Perfumed Man, smiling his dead smile and directing the hooded figures about the chamber.
Londis was led to the tables by four of the hooded figures. Without warning, they threw him upon it and began chanting, as the Perfumed Man lifted the velvet cloth from the nearby table, revealing a huge array of stylized daggers, scalpels, and other instruments of pain. Londis screamed and begged to know what was happening, but the Perfumed Man only smiled and picked up the nearest dagger with his finely gloved hands, and began to chant as he drew closer to Londis.
The tortures inflicted that night do not bear repeating. Suffice it to say that they were horrific. The ritual continued through the night, and as it did, a shadowy figure began to take shape in the midst of the circle. It was hazy at first, indistinct, but as the night went on it began to take on shape and definition. It was huge, a thing of shadows and teeth, of curved spikes and claws and flames, and eyes of deepest malevolence. It did not move at first, but as it took shape it began to stalk about the summoning circle, eyeing the ritualists and the Perfumed Man, as if impatient and eager to be free.
As the night drew to a close and the Perfumed Man reached the last of his torture implements, a large, jeweled spike with three blades, one of the ritualists began to stumble over his words. The fatigue of the long night, and the intense, primal fear he felt when faced with the demon took its toll on him, and though he desperately sputtered on, his words lost coherence and meaning, and thus power over the demon. As his words fell further and further into dissaray, the demon sensed the interruption and stopped its pacing, stooping down to stare directly into the ritualists face. It was then that his words broke, and with them all hell broke loose. Even as the spike was held above Londis to deal the killing blow, the demon reached out and snatched the man, tearing him to shreds, before starting on the other ritualists. Bodies flew everywhere, blood splattered the walls, and the ritual broke down completely as chaos ensued.
In the resulting confusion, Londis had just enough sense left to jerk free and run. He ran until he left the basement, out of the the chamber. He ran out of the large, opulent villa in the noble quarter, until he left it all far behind. He ran until his legs gave out and his lungs nearly burst, and he finally collapsed in the streets and passed out.
Back in the chamber, amidst the carnage and chaos, the Perfumed Man sighed. Raising his hands into the sky, pillars of white-hot flame crashed down amongst the remaining cultists, burning them to cinders. As the last of the cultists perished, the demon faded from view, howling with rage. Smiling once more, the Perfumed Man turned and strode slowly from the room, signalling the shocked cultists outside to clean up the mess.
Londis was found outside of a dwarven temple to Torag, god of protection and the forge. The leader of the temple, Murnick, took pity on the injured young boy, and used his healing magics to nurture him back to health. He could not, however, heal the wicked scars that now covered most of his face and body. He was given a job cleaning up the temple, one he was all too eager to take as he now had nowhere else to go. He could not trust his family any longer, and was terrified that if he went out the Perfumed Man would capture him again. He kept mostly to himself, never speaking of what befell him at the villa, and while he was there he learned of the teachings of Torag, and the value of protecting others who could not protect themselves from harm. He also learned of the power one could gain from devotion, as the clerics performed magics of healing and blessing for the faithful. He learned during the days, and during the nights he fell asleep dreaming of revenge, and awoke screaming from his nightmares. Murnick saw the darkness clouding the young man's heart, and did his best to guide Londis towards wisdom and peace.
As Londis aged he grew less fearful of the world, and felt the yearnings of a young man to find his destiny. His growing bitterness also left him with a thirst for violence that couldn't be quenched in the peaceful halls of the temple. And so when Londis was seventeen he left the priests of Torag, to the protestations of Murnick, and joined a traveling mercenary group known as the Gauntlets of Fortune, which had just been contracted to defend merchant ships sailing between Korvosa and the Chelaxian empire.
For the few years Londis spent aboard the ships, he was happy. The mercenary group was led by a man named Joruf, a barbarian from the Shoanti highlands who had come south to make his fortune with his strength and swordsmanship. He took Londis under his wing, teaching him how to fight, how to move around in armor, and how to navigate by the stars and keep himself alive when all he had was his wits and a hunting knife. He also told him the many wondrous things he'd seen in his travels, of sea serpents that could swallow a man whole and of forest creatures that could steal his mind with their beauty, and all the other wondrous and terrifying things he had seen. Together they slew pirates and thieves, and sailed the seas raking in a small fortune.
But eventually the work dried up. The shipping companies that hired the Gauntlets went out of business or became successful enough to employ their own guards, and the men of the company grew restless at the lack of work. Joruf saw the unhappiness of his men, and told them he had found a job that would pay them all handsomely. He gathered up Londis and the other men, and led them onto the roads on the grasslands surrounding Korvosa, until they came upon a travelling caravan. Smiling at the company, Joruf motioned to the caravan and told them he had found them new work, a Varisian caravan that traded Thassilonian artifacts between the great cities. Plundering their wares would keep the men happy and wealthy for months. Excited at the prospect of riches, the men charged the caravan, and battle broke out between the caravan guards and the mercenary company.
Appalled at the actions of Joruf and the men, Londis stood frozen near the fighting, conflicted. Every instinct from his years of learning the ways of Torag told him to help the people of the caravan, but to do so he would have to stop his friends, and more importantly, his mentor. He thought about what his life would be like amongst the mercenaries, looting and pillaging for the rest of his bloody days with his companions, living a life of riches. He strode up to Joruf just as he was finishing off one of the caravan guards, who greeted him warmly and gestured out amongst the caravan to Londis, telling him the first pick of treasure was his.
With a heavy heart Londis hefted his mace and struck in the back of the head with all his might, praying that Torag would guide his hand. Joruf fell to the ground, motionless, and Londis fell among the rest of the company, felling any he could reach and turning the tide against the now leaderless mercenaries. The caravan archers, however, saw his uniform amidst the chaos and shot him, piercing his side with a poisoned arrow. Londis grabbed his horse and fled, riding towards Korvosa to collapse injured in front of the temple of Torag as he had so many years ago.
As he was nursed back to health once more, he told Murnick of what had happened in his years away. Londis begged forgiveness for straying from his faith and for ever thinking of showing mercy to the wicked. He swore oaths to his god to ferret out those would be harm the innocent and put them to a swift death. Murnick, seeing for the first time an outlet for the violence in the man's heart towards good, gave Londis his blessing, and instructed him in the ways of divine magic. He told him of the inquisitors, godly warriors who rooted out any who opposed their gods principles and destroyed them, who had the freedom to act in ways the clergy could not. He told of how the inquisitors of Torag could not reveal their association with the church, as their ways were radical and frowned upon, if effective. Finally he told Londis of several minor criminals in the surrounding towns that were terrorizing the local peoples, murderers, rapists, and the like.
Taking up the sacred warhammer of the monastery, and the armor and equipment he had earned as a mercenary, Londis struck out and sought the criminals. Using his martial prowess, intimidation, threats of torture, and newfound divine magic, he tracked them to their dens and dispatched them, leaving a terrified, angry, but safer populace in his wake. While Murnick disapproved of Londis' methods, he could not argue with his results. Londis had not crossed the line into evil, though he tread upon it nearly every day. Longing to spread his justice into the world, Londis left the temple once again, this time filled with a sense of purpose and self righteousness.
He made his living adventuring, killing minor beasts that plagued the populace, or preying on small time criminals against whom there was not enough evidence to imprison or hang. More than once he was chased from town after killing some criminal without a chance to bring him to trial. From time to time he would stop back at the temple of Torag, to seek the wisdom of Murnick and the guidance of his god to smite only the wicked. Then one day he returned to find Murnick holding a letter, requesting help from a father Xanthis in Sandport to deal with a growing goblin problem, and immediately set off to lend what aid he could, and protect the people of Sandport by punishing the evils who might dwell there.
Notes on Londis:
Londis' smile he does to intimidate people is the same as the Perfumed Man's, he subconsciously emulates it.
Londis has never physically tortured anyone. He finds the practice deplorable. But he knows the effectiveness of the threat of torture.
Londis has not forgotten the Perfumed Man. One day when he is strong enough he wishes to return to Korvosa and find him.
On Londis' person is a brief history of what happened when he was a child, as well as a request that if he dies someone stops the Perfumed Man in his place.
. Changed some names to make them all correct.
