Sekpak the Mageslayer, Strikingly Steadfast Sacrificer of Spoils

PK Wins

Role

Chapter 5

It was the hardest possible for the village of battleragers - imperial horde
was growing in power every day, and those who assist it - an orcs and others
felt themselves unstopable.

Sekpak has just reached the pinnacle in his guild and was protecting his home
from many invaders. He was ready to die, but try to protect the village any any
cost! But the first to fall was Imperial High Priest Graitel. Sekpak stood over
his corpse for few hours and then decided to put all Graitel's armors in the pit
in the Shrine of the BattleRagers to slow the raid. Next moment few more imperials
arrived to the village and Sekpak had to get out, barely surviving. It was one
long battle for many weeks where Sekpak tried to retrieve their head from many
enemies in the Palace. But he finally fell and most of his armors and weapons
were taken by Graitel, who only laughed and told that Sekpak might get it back
from the dark altar in the divine sect. But it was impossible to even retrieve
that moon for Sekpak. That year Sekpak lost, but it didn't last forever.

After few years many things have changed and Sekpak began to win more often than
not against the imperial horde. But most of the time the head was in the Throne
Room and there were only a corpses of his only friend Gorumburphus all over Thera.
Sekpak has sworn to protect his home and his new family at all cost and began
simply sacrificing all armors of all imperials he managed to kill.

One hundred years have passed and the situation changed a lot. Many old imperials
left Thera in shame, and Sekpak didn't sacrifice all belongings of all imperials
all the time anymore. Unspoken God came to speak with Sekpak and warned about all
dangers of doing this to his slaves. Sekpak tried to speak with Graitel and Oniflond
to stop this cycle as Sekpak had everything taken from him by an imperials about 5-10
times as well. But they both refused. Soon Sekpak fell to Oniflond and Bertorious and
lost all his belongings again. Then he also fell to Graitel and lost everything again.
Sekpak clearly understands that whenever he falls to any imperials he'll loose
everything again.

And so the cycle continues. An imperials are dying to Sekpak blades often and loose
all their belongings. Sekpak isn't happy to do it, but it's too late to stop this
cycle anyhow! Also after one hundred more years new generation of imperials have grown
in power and it's not the good time to stop doing it, not now!

Role

Chapter 4

Rubbing his beardless chin, Sekpak wandered through the village that he
had made his home. The war had taken a toll on his body and he had scars
where you could not even imagine. Yet his mind, his mind simmered like a
burning fire. Each magi he killed brought no release to his rage. On the
contrary it fuelled him and drove him to fight harder, fight stronger and
to fight with the unbridled fury of his past. The ghosts of his men walk
in his shadow, haunting him with whispering voices and curses of betrayal
that keeps him from restful slumber.

Rubbing a hand along his sharpened blades, he paused to reflect on a path
that brought him to the pinnacle of his guild and he dared to wonder of a
world that awaited him in the future. Friends were few and far between as
he grew, he found solace only in the company of others who bonded over a
hatred for the magic that defiled Thera. He trained hard with his blades
and when the time came, he selected the use of flails and whips to join a
polished set of sabres that found their homes in sheathes strapped behind
his back.

And how he delighted in those flails. He chuckled gruffly to himself and
recalled the fleeting terror in his enemies eyes as he lashed out with
these marvellous creatures and entwined them to the prison of his rage. A
first row seat to his performance, he would sing his warsong and loose an
insatiable rage upon them. His blood would boil and these actions of his
worship ignited him. He found himself wishing that these glimpses of an
unearthly euphoria would last forever but as the fatigue of battle slowly
seeped into his bones the aftermath of bloodshed brought only the images
of his men to his eyes.

He would avenge them, no matter what the cost. Just as he would continue
to defend his new clan. NO MATTER WHAT THE COST! Sekpak still dwells in a
realm of his own anger and rage.

Role

Chapter 3

He came back to his sense amongst a pile of the fallen. Drow. Duergar. It
didn't seem to matter. He had killed them all in his bloodlust, enemy and
ally alike. He would rather see them dead than fallen to the perversions
of the drow. He sat down upon the limp corpse of a drow and tried to calm
his mind and collect his thoughts.

As the beating of his heart began to slow he felt the cold grip of magic
squeeze gently within his chest as it began to choke the life out of him
and take control of his heart. He yelled in outrage and gripped the hilts
of his swords in his hands and struggled against the creeping tendrils of
mana that began to entwine him. Diving once again into the river of anger
and bloodlust, he found the only solution that would free him from this
prison of mystical enchantment.

Stay!

Angry!

Bloodied and exhausted, he would emerge weeks later at the mouth of the
Underdark and set his sights upon a new war upon Thera. He would hunt and
destroy each and every user of magic he could find so that he can finally
take his rest and exact his vengeance for his fallen kin. As he ventures
down from the falls above Voralia, it is important to remember the traits
he has shown:

- He is angry, always angry! If he is not angry he is at risk of losing his
soul to the magic that threatens to devour him. Because of this, he walks
under the Sphere of Rage and will grow to rely on his inner anger in his
war against magic.

- He seeks to become a Villager because he sees it as his only way to find
his peace and to take vengeance for his lost men. He will be a berserker
as it is a reflection of the rage and bloodlust that is always alive in
his veins.

- He has cut off his beard after killing all his own men in his bloodlust,
this is a sign of weakness and dishonor amongst the duergar and the shame
he feels from this will further fuel his rage. He will treat the Village
like the men he lost in battle, they will become his family and he will
stop at nothing to make sure they do not suffer the same fate as his men.

Role

Chapter 2

Raged gripped him further, igniting his veins with fire and anger as the
slender drow made her way down the line of his men. One by one, uttering
the foul spell that overrode their minds and forced them to submit to her
will and purpose. He strained against his bindings and was forced to see
his men falter at the light caress of this wench.

First they would struggle, their eyes would fill with bloodlust and they
would thrash violently against their own restraints with futility. Their
flesh would tear as life flowed from their veins to cover the dark cavern
floor in a slick layer of blood. Then their eyes would roll and fade with
the completion of the ritual, their pupils would dilate as they slumped
against their bindings.

Sekpak was no fool. Nor was he a stranger to the drow and their mystical
ways. He noted the pattern and prepared himself for the onslaught in his
mind. First, the drow walked down the line, carving mystical runes upon
their heads, linking her magic with their hearts. Then she would turn and
walk back, invoke these runes to change the hearts of his men, replacing
their will with hers. He noted their struggle. He noted their fall and at
the precise moment they appeared to falter and concede their defeat. He
took a deep breath and prepared for the skirmish he was about to endure.

With his eyes shut, he felt her presence at his side before he saw her. A
sudden chill came over him, the runes upon his head began to burn him as
if a cold fire had ignited in his brain. He arched his back in pain as he
opened his eyes wide, straining against his own bindings that felt as if
they would slice though his flesh with his wild thrashing. He stared into
the eyes of the drow, and allowed himself to dive into the vast river of
anger and fire than raged through his veins and emerged full of bloodlust
and reborn in his own rage.

He felt his bindings tear. He felt warm blood kissing his flesh. He felt
life in his veins... And he left death in his wake.

To be continued.

Role

Chapter 1

Rage flooded his being and coursed through his veins at the whispering of
the spell that bound him. He screamed in protest as the two runes seared
themselves into the side of his head and began beating in perfect unison
to his defiled heart. He raised his bloodied eyes to stare at the slender
woman before him, her dark skin enchanted with mystical runes that seemed
to leach life itself. She offered him a seductive smile before moving on
down the line of prisoners to the next captive duergar to utter the same
incantation, repeating the same smile and moving on once again.

But such was life in the Underdark. It was a dark realm where a darkness
flourished and the creatures beneath the surface of the earth raged in an
eternal war to claim dominion over the caverns of Thera. And that is all
this was, more casualties to the war as the politics of Teth Azeleth once
again overflowed into the dark realm of sinister ambitions. The dominion
of the First House was once again in question and the rivals were out in
force, recruiting and enslaving soldiers as they plotted to overthrow and
annihilate the Spider Goddess' favourite children.

Sekpak strained against the incantation that had gripped his heart with a
cold merciless hand. He had lead this patrol from the gates of Aran'gird
at the command of the king. His task was to investigate the disappearance
of the previous patrols that ventured off into the maw of the lands. They
set their pace and marched towards the stronghold of Velkyn Oloth before
turning south towards the Underdark Sea. They should have been suspicious
when the scent of the ocean reached them, the stale air mingling with the
smell of decay.

They didn't see much else, the drow were known for their stealth and with
swift precision their ambush was executed flawlessly. With the prisoners
restrained and disarmed, they waited in silence and endured a promise of
servitude and captivity.

To be continued.

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