Kellevar - A Story of Loss

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Maladus
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Kellevar - A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Sun Nov 22, 2015 5:39 am

Part 1: The Life Before
Chapter 1: Loss

Kellevar was excited, more excited than he has ever been his entire life. It didn’t matter to him that his entire life has only encompassed six winters, the fact remains that this would be a momentous day. His father, Caldiir Evenstar is an ambassador from Myon to Cordor, and this was the first time that he had decided to take his son along with him.

Can you imagine it? His first time going out into the world from Myon and he was getting to go to Cordor! The sights he would see: humans, dwarves, halflings, dragons! Ok, probably not dragons, but Kellevar’s excitement was causing his mind to dream of all kinds of different things that any rational person would consider impossible.

His mother Ariannii, a priestess of Sehanine Moonbow, was taking some time away from her arts of mysticism to travel with her son and husband to keep an eye on young Kellevar and keep him out of trouble. They were traveling with a convoy of supplies and merchants, and the trip was expected to take several weeks because the whole company had planned to stop at the arcane tower on their way into Cordor.

Unfortunately, they didn’t make it very far.

The convoy had stopped for the night just outside the edge of the forest. All of the wagons in the group were circled up for increased protection against any marauders, but it would not help this night. Four sentries were posted at the cardinal directions surrounding the encampment, while the rest of them slept.

Four bolts, all fired simultaneously struck the sentries in the throat preventing them from screaming out an alarm. In a flash, they were upon them...through the globes of darkness only the slight glint of weapons slashing here and there could be seen, but the cries of pain and death cut through the night as surely as a knife through butter.

Kellevar managed to scramble away from the massacre and reached the treeline undetected, no small feat considering the source of the ambush. He kept low along the bushes in the treeline, but from where he had come to rest, he could see everything that was transpiring back at the encampment.

Suddenly he saw a familiar face crawling out of the darkness. Just as she started to rise and make a break for the trees, Arianni Evenstar was shot in the back with a barrage of bolts from the hand crossbows of half a dozen of her attackers. She went down but, she was strong and was not yet dead. It was then that the unnatural darkness dissipated, and for the first time Kellevar could see who had perpetrated this madness.

To his eyes they looked sort of like Elves, at least they were built like Elves, but their skin color was dark...as black as pitch and the ones who did not wear hoods had hair of the brightest white. Just then he realized they were coming straight for his mother! She was crawling again now, but they caught up to her easily enough. One of them, clearly the leader spoke in a harsh tongue that sounded oddly familiar to him, though he could not quite make out what he was saying.

Two of the other attackers quickly stepped forward and then grabbed Ariannii by the arms and dragged her to her knees. The leader came about in front of her so that he could see her face. Kellevar could hear her begging for them to stop, but if they understood they made no move to oblige her. Instead, the leader looked to his comrades and grinned. He took out a wicked looking dagger and slit Ariannii’s throat allowing her blood to spray across his armor.

Less than two minutes after it had begun, it was over. Quick, efficient, and clean, the way of the Drow. They didn’t even stick around to loot the bodies, as quickly as they appeared, they were gone again. Kellevar did not move for at least two hours, he was too scared to. When he did finally work up the courage to move, he went straight to his mother. It was there that he curled up and fell asleep.
Last edited by Maladus on Thu May 27, 2021 3:40 pm, edited 7 times in total.

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Re: Kellevar: A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Sun Dec 06, 2015 6:09 am

Chapter 2: A First Kill

Days passed by, but Kellevar took no notice. He just stayed by the now cold corpse of his mother...even when it rained. It was during one of these downpours that he was catapulted on a course that would define the rest of his life.

It started slowly, with the creaking sounds of a wagon wheel slowly growing louder as it approached the site of the massacre. Then the gasp of a woman as the sheer brutality of the ordeal finally became apparent to her. Even as they approached him, Kellevar did not move. Only the subtle signs of his breath in the cold, damp air gave them a clue that someone yet lived.

The two humans, Bhakas and Selma Bellows approached the child cautiously. They were still unsure how he would react to their presence. They ask him his name, but Kellevar makes no move to answer. Selma turns to her husband and begs him, this child needs help and they can’t just leave him there! Grumbling, Bhakas nods his head.

Selma bends down and touches the boy, but he flinches at the sensation. Cautiously she sits him up, the blood of his dead mother still matting his hair. She lifts him up, he does not fight her. As she carries him to the wagon he says one word...“Kellevar.“

The Bellows are commoners who call the slums of Lower Cordor home. Bhakas works long hours in the iron mines just to be able to afford their taxes. They own just a modest place with barely enough room for themselves, but they do have a cellar that houses the meager supplies they need to allow Selma to run a small food cart.

It is this cellar that Kellevar found waiting for him when they arrived in Cordor a few days later. The Bellows home was indeed small, and this was all they could find for him. At least Selma managed to find some old blankets that Kellevar piled into pallet that was comfortable enough. He did not sleep that first night.

The years passed, while he was still too small to hold a pick the Bellows left him to wander the streets begging for money and scrounging for food. They were barely hanging on themselves, and could not provide him anything more than a place to sleep at night. Kellevar began to notice a definite pattern that emerged that left him afraid.

Bhakas would be gone for weeks at a time while working the mines. Upon his return he would always find himself at the bottom of a bottle, leaving him violent. He would take out his frustrations with the mine, and their situation on Selma. Often times she would come into the cellar where Kellevar slept with bruises and blood leaking from her lip. She always smiled and told Kellevar that it wouldn’t happen again, but he knew she was only trying to make him feel better.

After his eleventh winter, Bhakas decided it was time for Kellevar to join him in the mines, this would help them earn more money and they might be able to finally leave Lower Cordor for good. The work was difficult, but Kellevar performed it as best he could. It always went the same way, upon their return Bhakas would get intoxicated and take out his frustrations on Selma.

For two years this continued, but this night was different...very different. The murder in Bhakas‘ eyes was more intense than Kellevar had ever seen it. The beating this night was especially harsh, Selma did not come to see him. Late that night, Kellevar left his room and went to investigate.

What he found was a terrible sight, Selma lay where Bhakas had finished with her. She was breathing, but it was really shallow and in that moment Kellevar had a vivid flashback to that moment when he saw his own mother on the ground. There wasn’t rage, just a cold realization of what he must do. He went into the kitchen and found a large knife, and he tested the blade with his thumb...slicing a superficial cut that caused him slight pain but did not bleed.

Creeping silently into the bedroom, he found Bhakas passed out on the floor...the fool had passed out on his way to the bed. He lay naked on his back, the snoring would have given his position away to anyone within a city block. Kellevar approached him and straddled his chest, the pressure on his chest caused Bhakas‘ breathing to slow a bit.

Kellevar started by slicing his throat. Bhakas, now wide awake tried screaming for help but no sound came out. What he saw instead was the elf he had rescued seven years before, sitting upon his chest. His eyes went wide as he realized what was happening to him. In that moment of realization, Kellevar drove the knife into his heart.

He left the body, and that life behind him that night. It was then he established his rule. No innocent women, and no children.
Last edited by Maladus on Thu May 27, 2021 3:36 pm, edited 4 times in total.

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Re: Kellevar: A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Sun Jan 17, 2016 3:35 am

Chapter 3: The Streets are No Place for a Child

The first years were the hardest, and Kellevar found himself doing what he must to survive. Stealing when he had to, and listening...always listening. He heard the tales of the adventurers as they came and went, and he was always fascinated by their confidence, a confidence that he knew he would never have.

There was always one group that he admired more than the others, those that could be invisible while remaining in plain sight. Those that could come and go as they please, and made even the boasting adventurers nervous. These were the type that could kill with cold blooded precision one moment, and the next could be the life of the tavern.

These were the assassins who made wetwork their business.

They did not see him, and who would pay attention to a street urchin? But he always saw them when they came in. For a time, he was satisfied to just sit in the darkest corners of the taverns while these men exchanged stories of their marks when they thought no one was listening to them. But eventually his curiosity got the best of him.

He picked out one of the assassins to learn more about, a human by the name of Daxos. He was the best of them in Kellevar’s eyes, and not the least because he had heard some of his stories. There was something more about him that always managed to hold his attention. One fateful night, he decided to tail Daxos on one of his jobs.

Down the various alleyways in Lower Cordor, through the sewers, and up into the more luxurious part of the city. Kellevar followed him the entire time...until the man he thought was Daxos suddenly disappeared right before his very eyes. Before he could move, the cold greeting of a blade at his throat froze him in place.

The man asked him the usual questions, what do you want? Who do you work for? Why are you so foolish as to follow the best assassin in Cordor? Kellevar could do nothing but answer honestly and hope that Daxos showed mercy on him. Interestingly enough, that is exactly what happened. Kellevar came to learn that the ‘mark’ that Daxos had come into town for had been killed days ago, and this ruse was created so that Daxos could get Kellevar alone to learn his intentions.

After sharing his heart, and his story with Daxos he left him with a simple dagger and some basic instructions. If he wanted to learn the ways of the assassin, then he would have to train his body and his mind. Daxos told the street urchin to go into the sewers to fight the rats until he could take on greater targets. He also told him that the best place to hone his mind would be at Thoramind’s shop. The old man was a lot nicer to street urchins, especially those who showed an interest in learning, and would probably teach him how to read and write.

Before leaving, Daxos gave him one last piece of advice. If he intends to follow an assassin from the shadows again, he should have his affairs in order.
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Re: Kellevar: A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Mon Feb 29, 2016 6:18 am

Part 2: Life in the Wilds
Chapter 1: The Woman in Black

The offer was innocent enough, “Are you looking for work?” She asked it so nonchalantly that anyone listening would not confuse it for anything but a simple offer for employment. The truth behind this simple offer however, would have implications for me that even I could not see coming.

It was a scouting mission; learn all that I could about what lies at the bottom of the kobold mines, write it up in a report and deliver it to her. Payment was made, half now with the promise of more after the task completed. Not wanting to give a bad impression to my new employer, I set off almost immediately.

The darkness of the cavern greeted me once again, and I felt at home among the cold, wet stones. The dripping of the moisture from the stalactites forming pools on the cave’s floor helped mask my silent approach. The instructions were clear...remain unseen and leave not a trail of bodies in my wake.

Upon nearing the end of the journey, a voice from the shadows echoed out to me. The voice drilled me on questions of my past, my future, and my purpose. I must have passed the initial test for when the entity behind the voice decided to show herself, it was with empty hands and not a blade.

It was the woman, I could tell from the sound of her voice, but she was in black leathers and wore a helmet that resembled a Crow’s head both in shape and in the sheer blackness worked into the metal. She urged me on, so I continued.

The woman took care of the adversaries that were too great for me to handle alone, and I knew that if she wanted me dead there was nothing I could do to prevent it. She continued to question me to learn of my intentions. Once again I must have passed this test because as I exited the cavern there was no sign of the woman...but she left something behind for me. The rest of the payment along with a note giving me instructions.

I was to travel to Sibayad to meet the woman called the Gatekeeper who goes by the name Azuilah. She would show me to the Bhaalspire and open my eyes forever.
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Re: Kellevar: A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Mon Apr 04, 2016 4:03 pm

Chapter 2: Gatekeeper

The boat to Sibayad departs from the Crow’s Nest. The ship's captain seems honest enough, but his boisterous demeanor and loud cackling laughter also began to grate on my nerves the longer the voyage lasts. The only consolation is the motion that the bigger man’s belly makes when he starts to laughing. Thankfully the trip to Sibayad is rather short.

The first thing that anyone notices when stepping onto the shores of Sibayad is the dryness of the desert air. It hits you in the chest like the waves of the ocean crashing over you. It doesn’t help when you see the barren trees, struggling to find any semblance of moisture in the unforgiving soil.

I was affected by the desert air, but did not allow for any outward indication to show. I strode into the city and was thankful that the city market stalls have canopies to block the sun. I knew to look for the Gatekeeper, but nothing of where to find her or what she looked like. Asking around the market only produced wide eyed stares from some and angry shouting in a language I could not understand from others.

Finally I decided to check the gladiator’s arena, hoping that the day’s matches would attract everyone in the city. Seeing the arena stands filled with spectators, I found a seat among the crowd. It was not long before a robed woman wearing a veil that covered her face approached me and introduced herself. She claimed to be a slave in service to the Gatekeeper and that her master had informed her of my coming.

She beckoned me to follow her.

Back out of the city the slave led me to a small skiff where a large muscular man awaited to ferry us out to another ship, this one much larger than the one from the Crow’s Nest. I was ushered to a room where I was instructed to remain for the entirety of the journey. I was grateful, partially because I enjoyed the privacy and partially because I never quite grew sea legs and spent a good deal of the trip nursing this sickness.

I had heard of Sencliff of course, who hadn’t, but I did not expect to go there anytime soon. Yet, that was where the ship came to rest. The slave instructed me to follow her and to stay close, the locals did not take kindly to snooping eyes. First she brought me to a portal should I ever need to get here quickly. Then she took me to the spire.

The Bhaalspire is a haven for those who wish to pursue the beautiful profession. Once the main place of worship for those who pray to the Lord of Murder, its ruined state has done nothing to limit the sense of awe and intimidation that now attempts to overwhelm me as I look upon it.

The slave stayed outside while I explored. Inside I found some tall columns with some hallowed words etched on them. I took the words to heart and vowed that I would one day live to embody them.

As I left I saw the slave waiting, she did not mind that I had spent several hours exploring the tower. I supposed that is due to the control that her master exhibits. She led me back to the docks where we were once again greeted by the stalwart big man.

The trip back to Sibayad was filled with internal musings. I did not know what exactly my future entailed, but I at least had something to strive for.
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Re: Kellevar - A Story of Loss

Post by Maladus » Sun Mar 04, 2018 6:02 am

Chapter 3: Changes

It has been so long since I last recorded my thoughts in this journal that I scarcely remember the events that led up to me leaving the island in the first place. The last I remember was working with The Doctor and Ann of House Thule...but I do not like dwelling on the past.

Much has changed in my time away, the Fuma’Vhid no longer rule with an iron fist. My former associates are gone, and it is likely no one from Sencliff would recognize me. One thing is the same...the Underdark remains unforgiving, willing to take everything and give nothing in return.

It is there that I had a deadly welcome back party. I was in Andunor planning to return to the surface. It had become apparent that the upstart Cyric and his lackeys were attempting to take over, and they had already gained control of the Sharps. For this reason I chose to seek out an enemy to the Cyricists...named in one of their own rambling messages.

Before I met with this, Bellafonte, I needed to check above to see if there was any information I could provide him to show my value. In the region called the Darkfalls, I chanced upon a human slave and a Drow mistress conversing. I listened for a time, but they were not speaking of anything important so I moved on.

Unfortunately, there was a shadow trailing the Drowess of considerable skill. He yelled some things I could not understand...and the next thing I know I’m waking up in the basement of the Outpost, the Drowess standing over me. Looking behind her, the shadow stood motionless cutting off my only means of escape.

She questioned me about my motives and being a typical Drowess she did not believe any of my answers, though I was telling the truth to be sure. What I did not expect was that she planned to hand me over to the Sharps to be dealt with by the followers of Cyric. The final straw came when she tried to get me to praise her Spider Queen.

Having picked up a few tricks from the Assassin’s Guild I knew that I had options available to me. I quickly conjured a sphere of darkness right on top of the Drowess, then cracked a portal lens and quickly escaped back to the surface. What better way to escape the Drow than with one of their own favorite tricks.

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