Darius/Daniel Tharsis - Corde Sharr'dak history

[Zyphlin]

Corde, or Darius Tharsis by birth, was born on Shieldmeet of 1420; ironically enough, the Year of the Dark Goddess. His early years were a simple one.

He lived within his city growing up as a happy, if not a big spoiled, child. His mother was held in high regard and his father was one of the more feared and respected men within their city. He enjoyed playing with the other kids, as long as they understood that they would play what he wanted to play. After all, he thought it was his right, they were mostly common kids and his mother and father were big shots.

The city was the town of the Eastlanders. His mother was one of their top assassin officers, in charge of teaching their up and coming troops the ways of the game by the time he was around seven. She was a loving and dedicated mother to him and his baby sister Desiree when she was around. However she was gone often, which led way to his fathers more heavy handed discipline.

His father was a devout of Bane, a high cleric of the tyrant lord in the region. Many rumored he was the eyes of Ashan, the legendary Banite of the land, in regards to the Eastlander’s. If these rumors were true or not though, were largely unknown. Despite it all though, Atol allowed him to remain in the town for short times to see his wife and children in exchange for aid when needed. He was horribly strict with his children, beating them both repeatidly when they stepped out of line. Darius learned to hate his father, yet at the same time idolized him for the power and respect he demanded.

Things began to change around his ninth year on this earth however. His mother had taken him on one of her rare trips to the little hamlet of jiyyd, a habit frowned upon by the Eastlander’s but something his mother did once every four years or so none the less. Her father was from the city, and though she saw him few times in her childhood due to the nature of her parents love she still held some affection for the town. The time for this trip was ill planned however, as dark hands moved the chess pieces for a rather interesting sight. Upon their second night within the city they heard a ruckus. Looking out the window of their room they saw many paladins and clerics streaming into the city that evening, dragging someone behind. Towards the middle of the town they saw a pyre set up, the fire just beginning to crackle. They left their room to see what was going on, a sickening feeling in his mothers chest, and headed towards the pyre. What he saw would stick with him for the rest of his days. One of the men the holy warriors were bringing within was his father. They read off his crimes, sighting the numerous atrocities the one they called Kaulis the Black had done upon the town and the region, and as such his death was warranted. His mother held tight onto him, urging him quietly to give no reaction, to not turn away, and to not shout out. He sat, quietly and still, and watched as the men of Jiyyd burned his father alive.

The years after this were much more different. His mother was still loving to him and his little sister, but she had became far more detached from things. She was demoted in ranks, the King stating that her mind became to clouded with other issues to properly do her job. She accepted it with naught a word. Still, she continued her life as she always had, doing her job as a bandit in the Nars and her job as a mother in the town. That was until five years after her husbands death, when Darius experienced the next two losses that would push him over the edge.

His mother had taken some of the children for a walk in the Nars. The plan was for her not to go to far from the cave. They headed out and the children began to play. Darius still remembers the game of tag all the children began as she watched them for a bit. However once she saw they were safe she wandered off a bit, looking south thinking of her dead husband, figuring that the group of preteens could contain themselves for a bit on their own. She was stirred from her thoughts when her daughter came up, then five…eight years younger the Darius, tugging on her outfit and smiling, wanting to talk. They walked together, hand in hand, as she listened to her daughter tell her about her days playing dolls with friends and the pictures she finger painted with the other young children in the town; that was until she smelt the odor upon the wind. She told her daughter to stay there and quickly pulled her asp, stalking off to see what she feared. She crept around the corner and saw them, four barbarians of Norwick rank with the sweat of battle, coming up the Nars. She was about to turn and go back when one of them spotted their daughter, making a comment about her quietly as they looked at the little girl, causing them all to break out laughing. Karen Tharsis did not know what they laughed about, but she had a sinking feeling it wasn’t any good. She hoped her daughter would run, run back and flee to the city, but she had to give her time. She struck out at the barbarians, yelling for her daughter to run and tell the others to go. The petrified child could not though, she stood there in shock, shaking as she watched her mother battle these four large men. Karen put up a good fight, the fight of a mother enraged, but in the end the numbers overran her. One grabbed the little girl, dragging her body…now passed out…south. The other three went about their business and then left Karen to die.

Darius found his mother an hour later, her clothes ripped apart, gashes from axes all along her, her body still showing the signs of the brutal things the men forced upon her before their departure. He knelt beside his mother, seeing the ribbon that was used to tie his sisters hair on the ground near by her, and watched her cast her last breaths after she gasped her last words to him, telling him to be strong.

Darius was never the same after that point. Returning to the town he was watched over by a few of the different families. However he was hard to predict, many days being silent and emotionless, other days striking out at the other children. Finally, some months after his mothers death his uncle, the brother of his father, arrived from Thay. He was to take the child to Thay and raise him he told the eastlander’s who in the end agreed due to the troubles the young boy had been causing since the deaths.

Once arriving to Thay things did not go as had been stated however. His uncle was a transmuter of the Red Wizards with ambition on the mind. He kept the teen locked within his basement, taking advantage of his lack of desire and drive due to the loss he suffered, and pulled him out for various experiments upon humans, almost all ultimately failing. Each one wrecked his body worse and worse, yet the boy still did not fight back. It was not until around his sixteenth year on this earth, that he finally allowed his rage out.

Pulled out for one of the experiments, he looked upon the back of his uncle. His uncle that thought nothing of Darius now, years of subservience and no problems left him over confident, and when Darius’s hands wrapped around his neck he released every evil and hateful thought that had grew in him over the past seven years into himself, into his strength, stealing the breath and the life and his uncle. Giving a final jerk of his hands he raised his misfigured head, and before him he saw her.

She stood before him, beautiful, dark, and full of power. She raised his head with her hand and when her finger tip touched him he felt more at peace and with a clearer mind then anytime previously in his life. He felt the pain of his loss, his thirst for vengeance, and yet it did not overwhelm or consume but yet seemed to become part of him. She looked over his wrecked body and gave him a choice. He could retain her touch and she would heal his maligned body, or he could go forth on his own and try to survive. He gave himself over willingly to her, for the first time but surely the last.

His body was pulled into the shadow plane, held in stasis for 10 years as slowly the powers of the dark plane repaired his ruined body. Upon the end of the tenth year he was returned to the material plane, fully convicted to his goddess, with a goal and an aim. A vision of a city constantly filled his dreams and a desire for two losses never far from his mind. He returned to his home of old by foot, spreading the word of the Dark Lady to those that he met on the road and felt could be convinced of her power and gift.

Within Narfell he has had many goals and objectives, but none above the service of Shar. He attempted to bring together evil of the land, to give them purpose and show them meaning, but he was betrayed from within and his hatred grew…and yet he moved on despite it. Out of this group he had found converts and was met once more by Shar, gifting him a ring of pure darkness that bound itself to his finger to hide his souls from other. As well he discovered the city of the deep, Arnath, and found his new purpose in life. It was here he changed his name, taking on the moniker of Corde Sharr’dak…roughly meaning Chosen one Binded to Shar in infernal…so as to hide his true name for the purpose of scrying and spells.

He set upon the forging of a temple in her honor within the caverns there over the next decade, slowly chiseling it out from her caverns themselves. It was nearly complete when the fall of Arnath took place, the fall of her city, and the fall of himself. In an attempt to send a message he sought to subdue an elf for her to give it, but his magic failed him…a sign from Shar to learn that he is not beyond her power, he loss. He passed into the fugue and yet still his devotion did not waver. For two years he stayed within the shadows of the place, the sun baking his skin and stinging his eyes, and prayed endlessly to her through parched tongue. There was no end in sight until…

…a shadow arrived, asking him why he stayed here, worshipping a goddess that caused his death. He stated it was his failure that caused it, and that no loss would pull him from Shar but would only bring him closer. The shadow flickered and he heard her voice through it, giving him a chance for redemption. He was taken to an odd place and his body once more wrecked to how it once was. He crawled through it, ignoring temptations…a ball of light, creature of selune, offering him healing and life; his mother stating she would be returned if he came back to her; a child of Arnath blaming her for his death. All these things he pulled past, keeping his mind focused on the dark disk of his goddess, and speaking her doctrine when possible. In the end her found an alter surrounded by creatures of darkness and performed the ritual found upon it. In the end a chakram collar was placed around his neck, and a choice had to be made. To grasp the chakram and end his life or to let it choke him for ages living immortal in this place; in the end he realized the truth of what it meant, the fact that one must always grasp Her will, her power, her faith tightly to them no matter the cost. He pulled the chakram, felt his head fall, felt the comforting darkness pull him in only to be reborn once more through the darkness…and the chakram was warm in his hand.

[Vilehelm]

Reviewed - No XP Pending (character is high level I think).