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My tale is one of darkness and chaos. Many brave warriors of honor were spawned from good noble hearted families. The paladin’s of Trinsic, the Order Guards of Lord British, and the brave town guard. All noble and brilliant people. My path was forged through blood, death and corruption. I started my life in the dark dregs of Buc’s Den. I was raised by my uncle. He took the life of a soldier of fortune, a mercenary. Skilled in every weapon known in the lands his services were widely wanted. As soon as I was old enough to hold a dagger I trained.

Little did I know was my uncle was not training me to defend myself. He was grooming a successor. He always carried a curved serrated blade with him etched in glyphs. I never asked about it though. When it was drawn though it dripped vile poisonous acid. This blade easily rending armors and flesh alike. As I was saying though I was trained thoroughly and well.

The blade he held was called the Grimblade. It was a cursed sword of the darkest caliber of evil. He had found it after vanquishing the Champion Death Knight of a liche lord. Taking the blade he figured it would fetch a healthy price at a Mage Fair. It never came to that though. Soon he heard whispers in his sleep. Whispers for him to commit foul evil acts. He felt compelled to take up the blade and wield it. My uncle easily succumbed to the vast evil held within. Soon after he became the most well known…and feared merc in the lands of Britainnia.

After many years of hired war my uncle retreated to Buc’s Den. He had been accused of unthinkable war crimes. So hunted by Lord British and most of his loyal soldiers dead little could be done. The Grimblade deemed this lack of the urge for vengeance and to fight free a weakness. So it compelled my uncle to train a replacement for him…me.

My uncle knew his sister a commoner in Trinsic wed to a paladin of low stature has born a son. He greeted her at the door soon after glowing Grimblade in hand. Though the last bit of compassion left in his soul must have surfaced. He refused the urge to kill her after taking her son as she stood in feared paralyzation. He retreated to his stronghold in the Den and raised me as his own. My destiny to be the Soldier of Death began.

Many years later as a young adult I began to hear the whispers. I saw visions of standing over my uncle’s ravaged body. The glowing sword in hand that he always wore. I felt a compulsion very slight at first. I first became bitter to the few friends I had. I soon was fighting in the streets for the smallest things. And with my superior fighting skills normally nearly killed my opponents. Then the night came when I slew a young man in cold blood because a young lady’s affections were to him not I. This act made me feel powerful and good…The Grimblade had finish preparing its new wielder.

That evening as my uncle slept I went to his room and took up the sword. He seemed to hold smile of…content on his face. As if some burden was lifted from his shoulders. I quickly rammed the blade into his chest and tore apart him and his bed in a fit of rage. Leaving the castle hold I caught the first ship out.

Years later I had quickly amassed a band of skilled killers. Hiring us out to the best paying lord. Some cared not our tactics as long as the job was done. But many would not hire us calling us brutally savage and cold-blooded butchers. My band would burn, and pillage towns on our crusades. Keeping the spoils of war. Though I thought myself above such petty pleasures such as women and ale such as my men enjoyed in these raids. I usually contented myself making a family plead for their lives before beheading them one by one. Little did I know the blade was the one in control of me…not the other way around.

One evening as we traveled the lands we came upon a shrine. At the time I did not know it was the Shrine of Compassion. An inner voice told me to enter. But the whispers that I heard so often in my head and dreams bid me not. The inner voice grew stronger urging me forward. I figured what was the harm? As I drew closer I noticed the Grimblade’s unholy glow falter some but not fade. And the acid it normally dripped seemed to dry up. I stepped into the glow the shrine emitted and noticed a young girl kneeling there praying softly. The whispers very weak now I gazed at her. A feeling in me I never knew before surfaced…Kindness. I kneeled next to her and she smiled softly. I also felt an urge to remove the blade at my belt. She whispered to me “Be free of this evil burden…. Work to cleanse thy soul. For ye never willing went on this road…Your destiny is once again yours.” Taking the sword she vanished and I felt the trance lift. My life had begun anew. I found out my past from journals of my uncles I recovered. I never returned to Trinsic for my shame was too much. And none knew of my savage past…. until now.

[[Category:Legends and Tales]]