The Daemon Prince

From Atlantic Roleplay Wiki

The Daemon Prince by Nas'Rath

My story begins many moons ago, in a land such as this but not quite. I was born and raised by my mother, Moria, in the city of Yew. She was human, or so I thought, but then again I thought the same of myself during my younger days. Mother and I lived far out in the forest, as she was a ranger, and I her burden of love. She also said we had to stay in the forest for I was born when both Felucca and Trammel had eclipsed the sun, a rare sight indeed, with even rarer consequences, and because of this the townspeople said I was cursed.

I had not heard, nor seen, my father during these days, but on one dreadful night that all changed. Mother was fixing dinner, while I collected firewood, until I heard her scream. I ran as fast as I could back to the campsite only to find mother crumpled in a heap before a giant winged creature with a crown of pure obsidian upon his massive head. He turned to me with a blood red gaze from the shadows, smiled, and addressed me. "Nas'Rath."

Of course I had no idea who Nas'Rath was at the time, with the belief that my name was Gregorus Winthrop. "Nas'Rath, my son, you have come about quite well"

I merely pointed to myself and shook my head, believeing this creature to be quite insane.

"This my come as a shock, my son, but I am your father, Ra'Mord, and this succubus is not your real mother. Come, my child, and walk with me."

I had no other choice out of fear for my own life, and the last glimmer of hope that I could catch him off guard and avenge mother, I walked with him. He told me everything. About how mother was merely ordered to bring about my true nature, and that she had not done as ordered and had to be killed as punishment.

Also that I was not human, that I was, in fact, a daemon just as he was. I was abit taken back by these words, but one other thing caught me off guard, that I was indeed the prince of daemons. I was shocked and speechless, barely able to stand. Just the mere thought of it, me, a prince. Ra'Mord sensed these feelings, and with a sigh, knelt down to me and said,

"Child, take these and I shall be on my way."

He presented me with two objects. One a horned, ruby crown, the other a meticulously crafted scythe of pure ruby. I placed the crown upon my head, and took the scythe in hand as Ra'Mord turned his back and began to walk away. Malicious thoughts ran rampant through my mind. How could he kill the only thing that ever loved me and walk off like this? How could he claim to be my father and abandon me? How could I be a daemon? With a slight gleam in my eye of rage and loss, I turned, drew the scythe, and cut my own father in half. I stood there, motionless, looking over the body of this beast.

It was big, strong, and most likely not easy to best in combat. But I had bested him, I had avenged mother, and it felt so good. I felt alive, as alive as I was running through the cold night woods when I was younger, as alive as I felt when mother told me she loved me, and then I knew. I knew everything Ra'Mord had told me was true, and I knew that mother would only rest peacefully when all those who had shunned her and her child were dead. I carefully wrapped mother in a piece of cloth, and journeyed through the forest towards Britain.

I found an abandoned house, quite nice actually, though in a state of disrepair, and I walked in carrying mother with me. There I found a bed, and laid mother in it. I said goodbye to mother for the last time, then set the house ablaze, and I stood there watching it burn until I felt that mother was gone. I walked East, to Britain, but not without felling many of those self-proclaimed virtuous heathens. My task was clear, to kill and kill again until every last one of them had been slain.

I started my reign of terror in Skara Brae, then moved on to Trinsic, but I did not finish Trinsic. Out of fear for their own lives the townsfolk organized a mob, and found me in the cemetary to the north-east. I, now much bigger and stronger than I had been as a child, fought them off to the best of my ability, but alas I could not stop that one sword, that one katana, from piercing my skull and leaving me dead. I remember nothing of an afterlife, it was as an endless sleep devoid of dreams, just total darkness.

My own thoughts were my company, and the souls of the dead my bread and water. I had been dead for what seemed like centuries before I saw a small glimmer in the darkness, and that glimmer grew and grew, but so did my darkness. I awoke to find an old man leaning over me, cackling madly and screaming out for someone, that is until I slit his throat with my claws and left him for dead. I know nothing of what happened to him, but I, my scythe, and my crown were all intact, save one thing, I was in another body. This body was not my own, for my body was that of a daemon, not of a human.

I masqueraded as a human for a time, learning their spells,their culture, their religion, and I hated all of it. I made it quite clear to myself that my method was not good enough, that I needed magic. I joined with the Order of the Ebon Skull, who helped me to realize my true form, the form that you see now, but that ever familiar man with the black wizard's hat offered me something far greater, power and riches beyond my wildest dreams. Thus, I have become the master of this library, and with it, power beyond that of mere mortals. I am now Nas'Rath, Prince of the Society of the Arcane Shadows.