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Sanctum Exitium - The Beginning

Discussion in 'Roleplaying Discussion' started by Anton von Strahd, Aug 17, 2017.

  1. Anton von Strahd

    Anton von Strahd Member

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    Anton von Strahd
    In another realm existed a bleak plane simply known as The Depths. It was ruled by demons and ancient Vampires whose bloodlines had lasted aeons, their ancestors also traced to demonic lineage. It was a stronghold for the Dark Powers, filled with legions of grotesque beasts and undead soldiers at the whim of their commanders. The screams of humans in purgatory often filled the air as most were treated like cattle. The finest stock were kept for nobility, while lesser inhabitants feasted on the old and frail. Some were spared; the able bodied men to build towers... and the young and desirable who worked as servants in the castles or were found in a harem tending to their evil Lords. It was dark here, save for a faint ring of fire suspended in the distance - the land barren, without the sight of a growing plant in thousands of years.The moon always full. Twisting, seemingly living structures of stone and iron filled the skyline; stabbing into nothingness.

    Part 1 - Mirkos Von Strahd, father of Anton Von Strahd: My Damnation

    Mirkos Barbaroy was of high nobility in his mortal state... now said to have ties with a vampire king himself - thus inspiring the adopted moniker "of Strahd". Before his vampiric affliction, Mirkos was a handsome and cunning young general, as well as a ruthless tyrant who rose to power by sacking unholy lands with a signature pattern of cruel brutality and torture. It was said he had a connection with a dark force, allowing him to mercilessly crush large armies in battle with fewer men at his disposal. Some of his more well-known exploits included boiling newborns in a cauldron before boiling their kin and flaying men alive as he left fire and brimstone in his wake. A combination of his personal sadism and a means to control his Province.

    After losing in a decisive battle Mirkos insisted fervently he was now cursed by the Gods, feeling they had failed him. He ordered their sacred monuments torn down and those who disobeyed were disemboweled. Feeling as though he had lost their favor and his castle had been compromised - he retired to his bed chamber. Mirkos quickly unlocked and rifled through his safe as he heard the cries of dying soldiers and the rush of men entering his fortress. In his hand he held a vial, glistening with the life's work of the very best alchemists, necromancers and mages he could either recruit or enslave. It was promised to be the elixir of eternal life. Blood from an actual Vampir, a vampire king no less.

    He sighed woefully - looking to the ornate canopy with the finest silk above the bed in which his wife laid as his eyes sunk. She had been lulled into a peaceful sleep with potions so she would not have to bear this all. "I... am... sorry..." Mirkos said, a quivering in his voice as he drank the sanguine solution. "My love..." he whispered as he unsheathed his dagger and slid it across her throat, a tear sliding down his cheek as she gave a dying gasp.

    Mirkos felt the life leave her fragile body. Cradling her in his arms, he kissed her deeply - savoring the sweet blood that now flowed from her lips. Mirkos turned to face his fate. "Now we shall be together... for all of time..". His eyes grew an unnatural red and he screamed in a violent rage - "Dark Lords, give me your power! Give me vengeance!" - as a new and vitriolic sensation flowed through his body, the blood of the Vampire King. He swore to make every living thing suffer.


    To be continued...
     
    Last edited: Aug 18, 2017
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  2. Anton von Strahd

    Anton von Strahd Member

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    Anton von Strahd
    Part 2 - War Is Losing Its Luster

    Mirkos surveyed the charred battlefield from a makeshift stage that had been erected for His Grace. He sat slumped, chin resting wearily in boredom upon his right hand as the left motioned for more wine. The air was thick with the stench of death. His elite soldiers fell those who fled - crushing their skulls with heavy hammers or cutting them down without remorse. Those who fought back were subjected to flame or impalement. Screams filled the air and opposing generals' decapitated heads lay, their faces twisted and distorted in pain before Mirkos... a reminder of his cruelty and dominance.

    With a final sip of wine, Mirkos Barbaroy stood. His tall, sinewy frame towered above his subjects and made for a striking silhouette against dusk and fire. "This is tedious... destroy them all and do what you will with the women. Go to their places of worship and tear down their false idols. If they will not accept me as their new God and swear fealty - make an example out of them. Take all of the valuables and see to it the troops are well fed. We move tomorrow. I am retiring to my chambers.". "Yes my lord!" a prominent Captain known as Meiyer answered eagerly, taking off at once after some illegible cursing directed at his underlings.

    The camp was bustling with activity from blacksmiths striking steel with their mighty hammers to horses neighing defiantly to their masters, to the murmurs of dying men being tended to. Mirkos took labored steps to the large tent that served as his quarters, his soldiers lowering their heads as he passed. They dare not look at him, his moods were often unpredictable and upsetting him almost guaranteed a slow death. He collapsed onto the massive bed in the far end of the room. The cloth structure was filled with the finest furs, silks, even art and spices. He spared no expense - even in a temporary dwelling. Mirkos felt weak. His latest war campaign marked the height of his ambition and greed as he toppled cities and armies across the map. They had raged on for months. He had always been strong - but noticed that the sun sapped him of his energy more and more as of late, often leaving him feeling lethargic. Mirkos had consulted the best magic practitioners and alchemists, even now taking to draining he blood from young and healthy victims. A sense of dread filled Barbaroy, his vampiric affliction was worsening and would be something he could soon not control. Strahd coursed through his veins.

    Once again his mind wandered to his fallen lover - his queen who died by his very hands. He did not want her to live an eternity of misery or worse... lose her to an invading army of brigands. "I...am...so sorry...Tahlia... my love...". She was too beautiful for this, and a million dead or all the land he had acquired couldn't return her to him. He had even preserved her corpse, consulting with necromancers who promised to revive her in vain. Every failure meant torture and eventual death. Mirkos reached for a concoction known to some as The Green Fairy. He drank in deeply, hoping to slip away and rendezvous with his lost love in dreams.

    As he drifted away - he was awoken by what he thought was an illusion. The fireplace in his domicile had been quelled. A dark figure stood before him in the blackness save for a toothy white grin and crimson eyes. "You have abused your powers, Mirkos. You have been foolish and arrogant in your conquests. You have a date with the council to decide your fate.". A hideous cackle emerged from the shadowy character as Mirkos found himself in a world of nightmares.

    To be continued...
     
    Last edited: Aug 23, 2017
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  3. Anton von Strahd

    Anton von Strahd Member

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    Anton von Strahd
    Part 3 - Sentenced to Burn

    "Tahlia... I...", Mirkos choked on blood and stirred to consciousness. He wanted to scream into the abyss and felt as though he had died a thousand deaths in his nightmares, haunted by Tahlia and forced to re-live the unspeakable acts of his past. A macabre theater played through the mind. His vision struggled into focus as his mind flashed back to the Absinthe he had consumed - was it tainted? Surely not... who would dare defy him; Mirkos von Strahd, a conqueror who struck fear into the hearts of mortal men and left a path of insufferable pain? It couldn't be.

    A hard shock jarred him from his thoughts as a plate-mailed glove met the side of Mirkos's jaw joined by the crunching sound of his jaw fracturing. He groaned and spit up a tooth. "What... is this?". Another hard slap, more crunching. He now saw several figures before him. The first he could make out after his eyes adjusted were two glowing orbs peering at him. It was same the toothy, grinning entity he'd caught a glimpse of before, still obscured in the blackness. The creature was tall and thin and seemed to dissipate into the shadows.

    "Ehehehe... move or don't, it won't hurt me, it won't!" The strange demon chirped as he began to jump in place, "Fuck...you-" Mirkos grunted, attempting to stand and screaming before falling back into his chair. What appeared to be a thin razor wire was strewn through his legs and arms, fastened tightly with hooks. The grinning stranger laughed - "I wouldn't recommend standing, you see... those hooks are attached to your tendons. It's unpleasant. See?". He gave a slight tug at the wires and Mirkos writhed in pain. A beautiful woman sat behind him, voluptuous and amazonian with purple skin. Several snakes slithered from her cloak. "Rip them out he will", "Never walk again" the snakes added, hissing.

    "ENOUGH!" bellowed a powerful voice from the darkness. The demon minions recoiled. Mirkos now saw a man in the central point of the room, broad shoulders spanning the width of a throne fashioned from skulls, all laden with gold and jewels. "I do not have patience for your games, fools.". The flames of Hell itself seemed to burn within the man's penetrating eyes as he surveyed his court. "Our apologies, master!" voices shrieked. The snakes followed suit, echoing "Our apologies, master!". The Dark Lord sat with perfect posture, unwavering in his infernal stare. The unearthly voice boomed again: "Mirkos Barbaroy, who calls himself Mirkos von Strahd. Who begged for powers beyond his mortal world and consumed the very blood of Strahd. Do you know why you have been brought here?".

    Mirkos gathered his thoughts - knowing they might be his last chance at penance. "Dark Lord... I have waged war with the world - I have overstepped my boundaries. My will to live has been extinguished. Allow me to join my Tahlia... in death.". A haunting laugh filled the chamber. "That common whore? You are truly more foolish than I took you for. What a waste of the blood of a vampire king. You spilled the whore's blood and for that, we saw potential in you". Mirkos gnashed his teeth "You...bastard!!", instinctively jerking upright in his unusual torture restraints. They ripped at his flesh and tendons and he slumped back into his seat. The Dark Lord shook his head. "You lack humility. We have not ruled the night for aeons so that some insolent, love drunken fool can recklessly pillage. Those human are our cattle. The common people tell tales of you being possessed with powers from beyond the grave. You are being banished, Mirkos. Banished to The Depths for 10,000 years.". "Noo..." struggled Mirkos, before a heavy mail glove struck him once more with a splash of crimson. The Dark Lord crossed his arms, more stern than before. "You will learn what it is to have immortal life. You will learn what it is to forego earthly pleasures and live in darkness.". The Dark Lord turned away, staring into nothingness.

    His head lowered and the tone of his voice softened. "Had you not possessed the blood of Strahd, you would have met a fate far worse - I assure you, Mirkos ov Strahd. I will grant you a small castle, land and servants. I will be watching you. Now, take him.". The Dark Lord motioned for the demonic guards in the chamber. "Wait." spoke the Dark Lord, his voice still softer than before and almost melancholy. The hulking figure now gestured to the red-eyed creature who still sat, grinning. "Yes, master...ehehe.". The hooks that had been fastened to Mirkos's tendons tore with a *SNAP*. Von Strahd's arms and legs both exploded in a sanguine flash, exposing muscle and bone as he cried out in absolute agony. "That was for calling me a bastard, simple fool. Now take him away.". Everything went black.

    to be continued...
     
    Last edited: Aug 23, 2017
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  4. Anton von Strahd

    Anton von Strahd Member

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    Anton von Strahd
    Part 4: Immolation

    The first hundred years were a blur as the defiled king adjusted to hell... blackness aside from the flames. Mirkos von Strahd had been banished to The Depths for 10,000 years. In time his legs were mended so that while he could barely stand - most of his existence was spent in a wheelchair or sitting in melancholy - making the time more agonizing. He was gifted a small Keep as promised, with human servants and meager land for one who once heralded himself as the son of Strahd. This was humble pie. Mirkos was jaded for eternity it seemed, before he eventually met and wed a beautiful vampiric female known as Lucretia who had no ties to royalty or land. They had two offspring - Lillith von Strahd and Anton von Strahd - now aged 800 and 500.

    Lillith had a perpetual chip on her shoulder from birth, secretly swearing vengeance for her father. She could not bring herself to accept being the child of a common Vampire woman and her father who had been gifted the blood of a vampire king. She should be royalty in The Underworld. The bitter Lillith was cruel to her slaves and servants... often laboring over destructive magic and plotting the revenge of her lineage. Cruel and violent, she had been known to remove the eyes from mortals who dared look at her with disdain.

    Anton was cut from a different cloth, fascinated by a mortal world beyond The Depths. Though more powerful than his sister, his time was mostly spent with ancient literature and studying artifacts. Anton was kind to his servants; even consulting them in secrecy about their magic, most of whom were lucky to have a tongue and were the oldest humans in The Depths. He dreamed of leaving the realm ov Hell, and had studied conjuring gateways to other dimensions for hundreds of years. The prince was also fond of male and female human suitors. The politics and pageantry of a Vampiric council were of little interest to him.

    Unbeknownst to Anton, Lillith had spies in his quarters now for decades, building her case. She was spiteful of his power, and more importantly jealous of Anton being the male heir of the von Strahd family. Fraternizing with humans - let alone learning their magic - was forbidden. This would all end badly.
     
    Last edited: Aug 30, 2017
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  5. Anton von Strahd

    Anton von Strahd Member

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    Anton von Strahd
    Part 5 - March of Queen Lillith

    *WORK IN PROGRESS - SORRY*


    (MUSIC)

    [/sploiler]
     
    Last edited: Sep 8, 2017
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