Stalker of the Darkness, A Tale from the Forgotten Realms Options

[TheCheshireKhajiit]

Wow! The fan fic section is busy lately! Khajiit will have to make time to catch up!

Anyway, this one’s D&D group is about to begin a new campaign which means it’s time for a new character, which also means it’s time to write a new backstory! A little background first. Khajiit is very much a fan of gothic horror, so this sometimes has an influence on many of his characters in games. This particular character, whose backstory this one is about to share, is actually a recurring character that Khajiit has used in a few different games. Each game featured a different version of this character. The original incarnation probably had the most creative backstory, but it is super long and probably not ideal for the forum. This story is comparatively short and admittedly less creative, but Khajiit thinks it’s fun, and thinks maybe some of you might as well! It’s currently just a backstory. The game itself is supposed to fill in the rest of her story, but who knows, maybe this one will add to it as we go! Now, without further ado, here is a story Khajiit calls...

A Stalker of the Datkness

Saryn was an obtainer of goods. Legitimate goods, lost goods, “misplaced” goods, all kinds of goods. The Raven Queen often commanded such tasks of her people, the Shadar-kai, so Saryn turned it into a permanent livelihood by obtaining goods for people willing to pay. One day, a strange man with a look on his face like he smelled something bad approached her at the tavern where she conducted her business with a proposition.

“So grave robbing is it?”, she asked the man playfully.

His demeanor remained as stiff as when he entered and his nose visibly scrunched up more.

“I heard that you didn’t ask questions. It is true that what I’m after is locked away in the tomb of a long dead noble, but nobody remembers him anyway. Besides, I am offering a lot of coin for the retrieval of this artifact. I am told you are one of the best. Get me the item, and you will be paid very well.”, he told her with a scowl.

Saryn looked at him with her customary amused smirk and raised eyebrow for a moment and finally made up her mind.

“Ok. I take the job.” she said with a shrug that she intended to come across as indifference.

The man stood up and tossed a large bag of coins on the table in front of her.

“Half now. Half when I have the artifact.”

Saryn watched him walk briskly out the tavern door. Her attention then turned to the bag. “He wasn’t lying about being paid well!” she thought to herself, as she tried to estimate how much was in it without counting it in the middle of the tavern. It was a lot, that much was sure. Now that she had a target, she downed her ale, and left the tavern.

It took her a few days, but Saryn was able to locate the tomb the artifact was supposedly buried in. The tomb belonged to a nobleman named Baron Victor Elazar , who died some 500 years before. In her research, Saryn found some mentions of “black magic” and “demon worship”, but nothing about a noteworthy artifact in his possession. “Bah! Only silly superstitions in these books!”, she said much louder than she intended, earning her a stern glance from the librarian. Saryn dug through a few more tomes, and finally came to a book that was actually helpful. This book described the Baron’s last days, the location of his tomb, and that they put a bloodseal on the sarcophagus, the later detail a big hint that something valuable was interred with the Baron. Having committed the location to memory, she left the library to sleep, for the next day she would journey to the tomb.

Saryn got an early start, and packed a day’s worth of provisions. The tomb was supposedly located relatively nearby so she needn’t go far if she ran out of supplies before finding the tomb. She followed a dark path into the woods, and in a fetid swampy area, rank and overgrown, Saryn found the lonely tomb, just where the book said it would be. The mausoleum was decorated with intricately carved stonework, which time had been hard at work erasing. Most of the worn images showed scenes of people hunting or feasting, but others were something else entirely. Macabre images of strange gods, and stranger rites were sprinkled throughout the more pedestrian scenes. It seemed to Saryn that the artist suffered from a vague obsession with something that she couldn’t positively identify, but grew troubled by the implications shown in some of the wilder scenes. Having looked about the outside of the mausoleum, she tried the door, and found that it swung open with no great amount of effort, and with a deep breath, Saryn stepped through that benighted portal.

It was pitch black inside the mausoleum, and the air was heavy and noisome. Saryn gave her eyes time to adjust to the darkness, the darkvision that all elven races share brightened the crypt’s interior while fading all color from the world. A stairway descended before her to a doorway that accessed an underground chamber. She discovered this door was also unlocked and cautiously pushed it open. The underground chamber was roughly square shaped and lined with many alcoves within which coffins were placed. A large stone sarcophagus dominated the very center of the room. Saryn glanced suspiciously at every corner of the chamber, and when she was satisfied nothing was lurking around, she drew closer to investigate the sarcophagus.

While she walked around studying the sarcophagus, Saryn ran her fingers lightly over the lid. The whole thing was decorated with reliefs similar to those outside the mausoleum. In the middle of the lid, a realistic and life sized sculpture of a man lay face up, as if in repose. The reliefs surrounding the sculpture showed various scenes of bloodletting rituals, hints of the dark acts used to seal the sarcophagus from intruders. Saryn kept walking around the sarcophagus looking for a mechanism to open it, but to no avail. Neither could she find a place to get a crowbar into it. Stumped, she stared at the sculpture as if willing it to tell her the secret. Then her eyes wandered to the reliefs surrounding the sculpture. “If blood sealed the sarcophagus...” she thought, “perhaps blood could unseal it?”. Saryn grabbed her dagger and cut her hand. The blood, normally red but appearing black in her darkvision, welled up from the wound immediately. She held her hand out in front of her over the sculpture, the black liquid contrasting starkly on its white face as it drizzled from the cut. Suddenly, the sarcophagus moved.

The sarcophagus came alive after a few moments. Some magical mechanism reacted to the blood and the lid was lifted from the corners by metallic pistons. Saryn jumped back at the sarcophagus’ sudden movement and waited for it to come to a stop. When the lid stopped rising, she approached the rim of the sarcophagus and looked inside.

What she saw, was a corpse. A corpse that was in fairly good shape considering it had been laying in this fetid swamp for 500 years. Sure, it was darkened and shriveled, with its skin clinging too tightly to the bones. The lips were desiccated and pulled back exposing the corpse’s teeth, which were almost pristine despite the long years in the box. Otherwise, it was remarkably well preserved. What she didn’t see, however, was any artifacts. The corpse was dressed in fine clothes that had succumbed to the years far worse than the man buried in them. There were some rings on the boney fingers, which Saryn helped herself to, but nothing out of the ordinary for a noble burial. “Perhaps he’s laying on it?” she thought, and gently grabbed the corpse by the shoulder and tried to turn it over. She had lifted the shoulder maybe a few inches off the sarcophagus floor when Saryn heard a noise that made her blood run cold. A noise that came from a dead man.

It was a sort of grunt or short moan that escaped the Baron’s throat. Saryn at first thought it was just trapped air escaping from the body, but that was soon proven wrong when the body started moving on its own. The Baron regained awareness frighteningly fast, and Saryn took a couple of steps back in horror, raising her hand to her mouth. Seeing the blood from her wound, the risen corpse rushed towards her in a frenzy. He snatched her hand and licked the wound with his leathery tongue with a gut churning zeal. Saryn snapped out of her shock, took her dagger, and thrust it at the creature lapping at her bloody hand. The dagger missed its mark in the Baron’s skull, tearing through his cheek instead. The creature reeled in pain and Saryn’s hand was coated in whatever vile liquid made up its vitae. Then, with a dexterity and strength unbelievable in a shriveled creature that just woke up from a sleep of centuries, the Baron pounced on Saryn, overpowering her. He bit her on the neck and ripped the wound open. She knew that bite was fatal and since she would be seeing the Raven Queen soon, she decided to go down fighting. With a burst of berserker energy, she shoved the undead creature sucking the blood out of her neck off of her, and with one quick motion, she drew her sabre and beheaded him, bathing her in a gush of fresh ichor.

Exhausted and dying, Saryn slumped to the floor with her back to the foot of the sarcophagus and held the wound on her neck. In the same heartbeat, she thought she heard multiple footsteps echoing on the stairs ahead of her. Soon, a form she recognized as her mysterious client appeared in the doorway, flanked by a man on each side. He strode across the chamber floor towards her with measured steps, clapping his hands slowly together as he neared.

“Well done, mercenary!” he said that last word with more than a hint of disdain. “You found the tomb and the artifact that I wanted! I do hope you aren’t angry about my little deception.”

He crouched down to look Saryn in the eyes and continued.

“You see, the Baron over there is a vampire and you’ve made it very easy to take possession of him! I really can’t thank you enough. We have big plans for the Baron! His current decapitated state is only a minor, and temporary inconvenience.”

Saryn tried to respond but she was too weak. Instead she just stared into his face.

The client glanced at Saryn’s pack and spotted the bag of coins he gave her.

“Oh! You have the bag of coins with which I paid you to come out here! So sorry that you won’t be getting the other half. You never were, truth be told. But come now, you really don’t need coin when you are dead, isn’t that so? I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be taking my deposit back, as well.”

He reached out and took the bag of coins, then called out to the men he had with him.

“Gentlemen, load the Baron in the wagon!”

They went to the Baron’s body, unceremoniously tossed the head in a sack, and carried the body out of the chamber, and up the stairs. Having everything that he came for, he took his leave of Saryn and the tomb.

“Well this is where your part of this story ends, mercenary. Since the Baron went to the trouble of killing you, it makes it unnecessary for us to have to! I do hope you enjoy your tomb, and when you get to the afterlife, tell them Lord Bartleby Montague sent you.”

With his last words, he winked at her, stood up, and casually walked out of the burial chamber, shutting the door behind him. With her fading consciousness, Saryn could hear the sound of chains being fitted to the door. Her vision faded, her breathing stopped, and finally she fell into oblivion.


Epilogue


Two thieves run through the woods to escape the authorities from the city. They take a wrong turn down a dark path and eventually find themselves at a lonely mausoleum in a swamp. Relieved that they will at least have shelter for the night, the thieves approach the door to the mausoleum and notice that it is open. Inside, they manage to get a fire going and the firelight shows them a door at the bottom of a staircase. A door held with a heavy chain. One of the thieves picks the padlock while the other looks on, both men dreaming of what wealth might be beyond the door. Once the lock is picked, they remove the chain and slowly open the door. It is pitch black in the chamber beyond but the predator waiting inside can see them just fine. She pounces with her dagger and hamstrings one of the men. As he falls to the floor holding his leg, the huntress jumps on his friend, wrapping her legs around his waist, and buries her sharp fangs into the soft flesh of his throat and rips. She drinks deeply from the crimson river flowing from the wound, feeling her strength return. Her victim slumps to the ground dead, and then she turns to the man with the sliced leg. In the darkness, her eyes glitter as she looks at the remaining thief with her customary amused smirk and raised eyebrow.

“So tell me, my little morsel. Do you know where I can find a Lord Bartleby Montague? He is an acquaintance of mine, and seems a man of good...” she chuckles, “...taste.” As she says that last part she grins widely and adds, “And I’ve been dying to have him for dinner.”

[macole]

Oh boy, how I do enjoy a good vampire story and this one is off to a very good start.

[SubRosa]

I have had a lot of fun teleporting the same character from game to game. Seeing people do it from Oblivion to Skyrim got me started doing the same, and to other games beyond. Especially with January, who is my all time queen of cross-game appearances.

A little tomb raiding for fun and profit! How could a girl say no to that?

A bloodseal? Now that sound interesting.

Uh oh, I think that blood may have woke up the vampire lurking within the sarcophagus!

Bonus points for using the term "vitae"

Bartleby Montague? Now that is one of the most English names ever!

And Saryn rises from the dead to wreak a terrible vengeance!

I liked this a lot. It was a very fun foray into the dangers of tomb raiding, and the double-crossing nature of Mr. Johnsons (sorry, could not resist a Shadowrun reference in there as well).

[Lena Wolf]

Onwards! Find the man of good taste! I too prefer my gentlemen tasty.

Err... scratch that. I'm an ex-vampire. I forget that sometimes.

[TheCheshireKhajiit]

Thanks for the kind words y’all.

Bonus points to the first one who correctly says where I borrowed the “man of good taste” joke from!

This post has been edited by TheCheshireKhajiit: May 26 2021, 12:37 PM

[RaderOfTheLostArk]

Thanks for the kind words y’all.

Bonus points to the first one who correctly says where I borrowed the “man of good taste” joke from!

I'm pretty sure it is wrong, but the only thing that came to mind was the ending of Silence of the Lambs, when Hannibal Lecter tells Clarice, "I'm having an old friend for dinner." Don't remember the phrase "man of good taste" being uttered, but I'll just throw out an answer and say it was Silence of the Lambs.

And welcome back to this neck of the woods, Khajiit! Hoping you get to stick around more frequently here. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to pop in, but I'll try whenever I can.

[Renee]

I like how you note darkvision is being used by elves. That goes back to DnD rules, first edition.

Cripes, this is creepy. (That was a compliment!) Hail, Khajiit! This one has written some Lovecraft.

[macole]

Thanks for the kind words y’all.

Bonus points to the first one who correctly says where I borrowed the “man of good taste” joke from!

Well it's either Star Trek 1966 which I doubt or more likely the 2019 Dracula movie

The hunt is on.

This post has been edited by macole: May 26 2021, 03:35 PM

[TheCheshireKhajiit]

Thanks for the kind words y’all.

Bonus points to the first one who correctly says where I borrowed the “man of good taste” joke from!

I'm pretty sure it is wrong, but the only thing that came to mind was the ending of Silence of the Lambs, when Hannibal Lecter tells Clarice, "I'm having an old friend for dinner." Don't remember the phrase "man of good taste" being uttered, but I'll just throw out an answer and say it was Silence of the Lambs.

And welcome back to this neck of the woods, Khajiit! Hoping you get to stick around more frequently here. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to pop in, but I'll try whenever I can.

Thanks Rader! Nope! Unfortunately the quote was not from Silence of the Lambs. Though “have ‘x’ for dinner” is a joke that could be made for both cannibals and vampires.

I like how you note darkvision is being used by elves. That goes back to DnD rules, first edition.

Cripes, this is creepy. (That was a compliment!) Hail, Khajiit! This one has written some Lovecraft.

Yep! This is the backstory for a character I’ll be playing in a D&D 5e campaign! Thanks for the comment about the story being creepy. It was meant to be a bit creepy!

Thanks for the kind words y’all.

Bonus points to the first one who correctly says where I borrowed the “man of good taste” joke from!

Well it's either Star Trek 1966 which I doubt or more likely the 2019 Dracula movie

The hunt is on.

DING DING DING!!! Winner! Kinda. The vid you linked is the correct film. 1992’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula, not 2019.

This post has been edited by TheCheshireKhajiit: May 26 2021, 04:48 PM

[Acadian]

Well, done, Khajiit! Plenty of edge-of-the-seat suspense and gothic feel here!

I'm so glad that Saryn unlives to give Bartleby his bloody due. Oblivion hath no fury like a woman scorned!

My (limited) knowledge of D&D rules is simply that which I managed to absorb during one playthrough of Baldur's Gate I and lots of time spent playing BGII. Like Renee, though, I do recall elves having night vision.

[TheCheshireKhajiit]

Well, done, Khajiit! Plenty of edge-of-the-seat suspense and gothic feel here!

I'm so glad that Saryn unlives to give Bartleby his bloody due. Oblivion hath no fury like a woman scorned!

My (limited) knowledge of D&D rules is simply that which I managed to absorb during one playthrough of Baldur's Gate I and lots of time spent playing BGII. Like Renee, though, I do recall elves having night vision.

Thanks A!

Darkvision is a very handy thing to have as a racial trait in D&D.