Exiles of Arastia
Lord Vulkrum of the Sword
Prince Praetor of Arastia
Slain by Glaxxus
Restored to Arastia by Menoth
St. Vulkrum once Martyred
Vulkrum II of House Be’lyn
Paladin of the Holy Light
First Elector King of the Realm of Arastia
Victory over Pavland
Consolidation of the Realms
Defeat of the Kraken
Contact with the Frogmen of the swamp
Continued conflict with Glaxxus
Defeat of Glaxxus
Awakening of the Holy Avenger spirit Galahane
Treaty with Elves
Contact and directive from Chronos
Launch the Quest for the Crown Shards
Vulkrum – back story
August 25, 2013 at 6:50pm
OK for RP purposes, the Arastia Campaign Vulkrum character is a reformed evil doer who was born into a gang of reiver raiders (i.e. Scottish border reivers).
The reiver leader, Dacre-Vol, had become increasingly psycho and bloodthirsty. Not satisfied with assaulting travelers and caravans, the young Vulkrum was sent to infiltrate a wealthy village and scout the defenses for a major raid and pillaging.
Vulkrum plays himself off as an unemployed caravan worker looking for food and shelter. The local priest of Shelyn takes him in as a custodian of the shrine there.
Vulkrum is taken aback by the beauty and kindness of the community. He soon falls in love with a young maiden follower of Desna and Shelyn named Be’lyn. Vulkrum confesses his true nature to her and warns her of the danger to the village.
Be’lyn is a servant to the local town Marshal, an old retired Paladin of celestial blood. She confides her love of Vulkrum to the Marshal, but she is afraid of the darkness that is still corrupting him. Vulkrum is brought to the Marshal where he admits to his past crimes and warns of the raid by Dacre-Vol. The Marshal suddenly becomes visibly shaken and unresponsive for several minutes. Now pale and short of breath he orders all away and for them to return soon after the next sunrise.
“That old man doesn’t have a chance. Get yourself out of town and tell everyone else to leave as well. I will try to delay the raiders but all must seek refuge elsewhere till they are defeated or scattered.” Vulkrum tells her, his mind distracted from the vision. The feeling that he cared at all for her fate or anyone else here was strange to him. That Marshal should have had him flogged and put in chains, or even hanged. Why didn’t he? Why did he act so entranced and alarmed after hearing my confession? What did he do to me this morning?
“Be’lyn I will find you if I live to return, you have saved me from myself and I will not forget”
“Bring in the prisoner” he commanded. Vulkrum recognized the man as one of the local wood sellers that delivered wood to the shrine. “Tell us again of what you have seen of our young friend here in town” says Dacre-Vol as he smacks the battered woodsman. “He stays at the shrine of Shelyn and frolics with one of the maidens there named Be’lyn, me Lord”
“Well, well, we all starve here while he beds some whore in some whore temple!
What of the local watch? Militia?” Dacre-Vol scowls at Vulkrum.
The prisoner stutters’, “An old watchman marshal and a couple of volunteer patrolmen at night, my lord"
“Take him away,” says Dacre-Vol, “You could have told us this in two days you little bastard. We will burn this village and I will see how good this little whore is myself. You forfeit your share of the loot and I order you to be flogged!”
Several arms grab Vulkrum and clubs knock him in the head.
“No! No!” Vulkrum says as he gets to his knees. A hand grabs his arm, it is the woodsman prisoner. “Here swallow this; it will give you strength to break the gate and escape. The Marshal waits for the raiders, he did not leave. Go to him”
He gives Vulkrum a small something wrapped in paper. Vulkrum swallows it whole, a surge of strength comes over him and he rips the hinges out of the wood on the gate. The woodsman grabs Vulkrum and yells, “This way”.
He yells, “Yes go west, and do not stop”. He enters the west side of the village and finds a dead raider and several villagers. The noise of a heated fight is close, it must be the Marshal. He grabs the raider’s sword. Vulkrum rushes to the Shelyn shrine.He passes a few raiders, but in the confusion, they recall him as one of their own and do not confront him. The shrine is burning, no sign of anyone. He starts to back tract, but then sees the priest, hung from a tree in the garden. Not far away lays the body of Be’lyn.
Vulkrum is stunned and frozen in time. It seemed that all the evil and corruption within him runs through his mind and is expelled into the cosmos. He is horrified and ashamed.Near the center of the village, several raiders hide behind cover and shoot arrows and bolts at unseen targets. Dacre-Vol sits on a horse within the stable yelling orders, “Kill that old son of a dog so we can get on with this, all his friends are dead, he should be glad to join them!”
A flash of white in the dark, the Marshal’s steed blasts out of an alley. The steel of the Marshal’s blade slicing down two of the raiders. Multiple arrows and wounds cover his armor. The horse passes through to another alley.
There are so many he will soon be overwhelmed.
“Stand up you pig and fight” yelled Vulkrum as he put his knee on the horse’s neck and gave it mercy with the bandits’ sword. Vol staggers to his feet, reaching for the dagger on his belt. His own sword is in Vulkrum’s hands. It soon finds Vol’s gut, then his neck.
Vulkrum holds the head aloft, and screams out his rage.
The Marshal rides into the open and a large halo of light emanates from around his head. In an otherworldly booming voice he proclaims “You are undone, drop your weapons and surrender, or run and be hunted like vermin.” Some simply drop everything and stand where they are, some bolt like rabbits towards the woods.
The evil and bloodletting of this incident in Arastia was an ill omen to the old Marshal. The visions he received upon meeting Vulkrum are clearer to him now, but he has never spoken of them to anyone. His efforts to get Vulkrum the best training in enlightenment, martial arts, and various skills seem odd for one not of his order in the peaceful realms of Arastia to many associates. To this the old Marshal has nothing to say, and has refused questions from any authority.