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Backstory[]
Born into a loving family, with two siblings, a younger sister and brother, he grew up fairly normal, living in a small hamlet. His parents were loving, but often busy so he ended up taking it upon himself to look out for his siblings. There were a small pack of kids that like to bully the younger kids and they set their sights on his brother and sister. One day, they took things too far and Domnall snapped. He beat several of the bullies badly.
The other parents wanted him punished, wanted him sent away for being "so vicious". His parents, bewildered as to what to do, they sent him to a monastery to learn to control his temper, to learn how not to fight. So, off he went, feeling betrayed and let down. Turning to the monks as his new family, he did learn. He learned how to fight, so he could avoid a fight. He started to learn about himself and start on a path to inner peace.
As time went on, he started having nightmares. Nightmares that seemed very real. Very horrifying. They disturbed him, and they disturbed the peace of the monastery. The monks tried to help him, but they had no inkling of what was causing these nightmares and had no way to help him. They stopped trying to help him and instead, started to avoid him. Shunned, feeling like an outcast now, not only from his original family and village, but now from everyone at the monastery, he packed what little belongings he had and left.
Traveling many months, suffering from horrible visions in his head whenever he slept, soon, he came upon a fort. It, he learned was Ta'Vaalor and soon found himself with papers, and not much else.
One story has ended, one has begun.
The Haunting[]
“Only the cruelest hunters set their traps with terror and trepidation.”
They started out innocently enough, strange as they were.The visions came to him as soon as he would fall asleep. Always just observing, like a ghostly spirit, flitting from town to village to city and castle. Masks, plain and simple, flit about, carried on an invisible breeze, seeking and finding hosts. As each mask found a host, a dark and evil whispering sound grew stronger. Over time the masks all found hosts and a shadow grew, covering the land the hosts lived in. Then, the hosts changed, slowly, irrevocably. Tainted, evil started to spread across the realms. It started small, missing people, crops spoiled, herds dying off. Soon it was raids, small ones, then villages were attacking other villages in fights for resources. Wars soon broke out as strife and turmoil spread. He witnessed much evil and darkness and all the while, the whispering continued.
Soon the hosts changed, they started to show their true form. They became demons and daemons.
One night, while floating over some old forest, he came upon a castle. Dark, foreboding... He felt drawn to it. An ancient evil emanating from it. Sucked in, he went deeper and deeper, passing through chambers long forgotten until he finally came to a stop in a room deep under the castle. There were assembled a number of beings, some from the various races, human, elven... But some of the others, were creatures of pure evil, including a vathor of great size and strength, There was also what could have been a man, dressed in all black, silvery runes covering his robes, a symbol around his neck of a sword, blazing, all in silver, but one he cannot remember the style of. The dark being, he was able to see him. He looked into him, into Domnall's soul. Suddenly, the dream broke, a greyness coming over everything. Thats when the hunt came on for real. Each dream following, they came for him, demons of all sorts, seeking him, tormenting him.
Current Situation...[]
He has tried several things.. Sleeping at the Shore of Dreams alone did not work as intended, they still came for him. They were unable to touch him, but still they taunted, still they tormented. Even with Yettin there, it did not change. One night, Issalya went with him to the Shore, cradled him in her arms and wings, and there, held fast, he finally found a peaceful night's rest. They came for him, but they were unable to reach him, words rang out in Elven, sending them off, leaving him to sleep a dreamless and restful night. The next night, they tried a different location. At first, he slept peacefully, but at some point he no longer felt comfort and the demons came and tormented him some more, threatened him, but suddenly, that presence returned, and he felt the strength of those words in his mind and the demons retreated, but not before he saw that they were led by a Vathor. The one he had seen in the castle. But, they retreated, leaving him once more to fall to a peaceful slumber.
Unable to stand it any longer, he finally went out in search of answers. And did he find them... He discovered a cult, followed and infiltrated them. Discovered that they were working on a powerful ritual. One that involved a young male sylvan, who's bloodline was apparently an ancient one, carrying power. He learned this by gaining their trust, by passing their tests and performing the rituals with them. Helping to work on them. Then word came down, there was a breakthrough and they wanted to test it. They had a young sylvan lady they wanted him to sacrifice through a dark, dark ritual. He rebelled internally. He knew he could not go through with it, but, how, he had no clue. Before he could flee, they took control of his body.
Trapped in his mind, he prayed, and as his body marched to the altar, his dread grew larger and larger. Then as he approached the girl, he locked gazes with her. The cultists had started to summon on of the demons, and he was rapidly approaching, starting to come through a mystical portal. Domnall, eyes fixed on the poor girl, unable to resist the directions given him, despaired. Then, with a thunderous clap, the room exploded, sending bodies flying. He was tossed in a heap, landing in a corner, sheltered by beams. When he came to, he clambered over the debris, found the cultists all dead, the demon disappearing, and the poor girl crumpled into a heap in another part of the room. Gathering her up, he took her to a village nearby, got her to a healer. The healer told Domnall he should be able to save her, the injuries were bad, but not life threatening. No word on the state of her mind though. He returned to the elven nations, to recuperate, regroup and take some time to try and enjoy what he could of life. Although, every so often, he would venture out to find out what else they were up to.
Year 5117[]
The new year promises to bring new things, new faces. Some good, some bad. Men that he feels the world would be better without. A sylvan he hadn't seen before, Kennyrran was her name he learned, slave to some man that remains hidden by a glamour. Having shared words, her helping him a time or two hunting, he found himself becoming interested in knowing more about her.
Frustration mounts as the traces of the cultists still searching for him can be found, still no idea what he can do to get rid of them.