Growing up in poverty in a small town in Taldor was no easy
life. Karas Vert was the only son of parents who worked the land for the local
lord. Their home was little more than a small thatched hut on the outskirts of
town with the other serfs. Karas was born premature and sickly, leaving his
family to spend what little they did have on his care through most of his
childhood. Every illness and disease that tore through the town struck the boy
particularly hard.
In his early adolescence Karas showed some small magical
talent. He was taken off to one of the many schools of magic that dot
Taldor’s cities. But being poor from a small village in a school with aspiring
wizards from families with money meant Karas was very often picked on and
ridiculed especially because of his sickly appearance. The fact structured
magic didn’t suit him well gave his aggressors even more fuel.
The only friend he found in his time away from home was a
huntsmen who passed through town often. The hunter was reviled by the
townsfolk, but he brought only the best skins and meats to the city. And when
there were problems with wandering monsters the Hunter could be counted upon to
wage war against the creatures. Karas was the hunter’s only friend, and the
hunter Karas’.
What the town didn’t know was that the hunter was a
discipline of war. He revered the ancient spirit of the apocalypse and in
his heart he sought the end of the world. Karas learned from his friend that no
one anywhere would ever look out for him. That surviving meant doing things by
yourself for yourself. In the end the world would fall to ashes and it should
do so sooner rather than later.
Karas accepted this and sought to dedicate himself to one of
the horseman. On a moonless night in the shadows of a dead tree the hunter took
Karas to commune. Karas was touched by the spirit of the Horseman and was
chosen by pestilence to be his disciple. Karas’ weakened form a testament to
his ability to survive the plagues his new master would bring upon the world.
As Karas furthered his teachings he began to feel the
disease flow through him. His body still sickly looking but able to process
even the worst illness the world had to offer. Pain too began to mean little to
him as the foulness that flowed toughened his physical form to harm. His master
called on him to spread his word and in doing so he would steal poultices and
remedies from local healers. Forcing his masters will upon the world.
But even in his hate and anger Karas still sought
acceptance. Always outside of society, in his heart he longed to be a part of
it. For a year he forgot his vows to Pestilence and fell in love. Even the
huntsman turned his back on his former protégé, calling him weak. But even love
could not save him, when his touch began to sicken those around him. His lover
growing rancid-smelling pustules at his caress. And once more Karas was alone.
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