The Book of Destruction
Kio, being of human and demon descent, is a tiefling. His long silver hair and the horns that it hides are evidence of this heritage. He is 26 years old, stands 5'7", and weighs 200 lbs.
Kagan, being a thief, scoundrel, drunkard, and all together suspicious young man, often found himself with the worst of luck. His typical day consisted of filling his pockets through petty theft, spending his night with intoxicating celebrations, then waking the next morning with his pockets empty once again without a memory as to why. The vermin of the streets and the women of the corners were his only friends and it was often hard to tell which was the more dirty and diseased. Kagan, being an orphan of the streets without a mentor or supervision, was only an average rogue and his skills were slightly lacking in every department. However, on a day that was no different than any other, a strange woman in red changed his life forever.
On this particular day he found himself picking a lock in the shadows of an alley. It was a standard routine but, as a cautious man of his profession, he still made sure to keep an eye on his surroundings just like he always had before. Yet, as nervous as he always was, he was especially nervous about the home attached to this lock. His hands were shaking a bit more than usual because his attention had been on this home for some time due it’s strange exterior. The outside walls of this home looked as if they had caught fire but not been burnt. The walls were scorched black, the paint was peeling, even the windows were smoked which, at first, made Kagan look right past the home. However, as he stepped forward and inspected it closer, he noticed that there was something odd beyond the appearance of the burnt walls. First, the blackened paint didn’t chip or flake, it was instead securely stuck to the walls. The second thing was the interior of the building. As he circled the house to check all the windows, he did manage to find one where he was able to peer into the contents of the house. Inside he saw a candle-lit room with plain walls and no sign of the fire that scarred the exterior. However, what intrigued him the most was the writing on the walls. Now, Kagan wasn’t the most intelligent rogue so he couldn’t make out the meaning or origin, but he did know that magical things had strange writing, and magic things often brought a pretty penny on the market. Kagan knew the danger of the magic, having been on the wrong end of a wand on several occasions, but he had watched this building carefully for several days and he had seen no signs of it’s owner. As he continued picking the lock he shuddered as the wind blew eerily past and, with a familiar “CLICK”, he was in.
The small glimpse into the blackened window couldn’t have prepared him for the true contents of the suspiciously burnt walls. Inside the walls were covered in markings, symbols, and pictures from top to bottom. Lit candles lined the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor. Remnants of a fire smoldered in the fireplace and the only furniture was a single chair, which had fallen on the ground. Kagan turned to the staircase to the right and began his ascent to the second floor. As he took each step softly to prevent a stray sound, he began to hear a faint female voice chanting something he didn’t understand. He slowed, and thought of the potential danger for just a moment, but decided to go on as the thought of unknown treasures urged him to continue. As he reached the top and turned the corner the voice grew slightly louder and began to quicken. The voice was coming from the lone door on the left, which had lights and shadows escaping into the hallway. The female voice took a brief pause and Kagan heard a page flip, and what sounded like a faint moan, before the female voice continued. Kagan took a deep breath, and continued forward. He knew something was wrong, but his curiosity kept him entranced by the voice. It seemed so serious and even angry, and yet he was captivated by it and he felt compelled to find the woman belonging to it.
With a very careful step, Kagan peered around the corner and into the lit room. Inside he saw a plain bed with a man strapped to it and a woman standing before him. The man was only dressed in his undergarments, he was tied to the four corners of the bed and gagged, and he had deep lacerations across his chest. He was moaning softly and trying with every bit of his escaping strength to escape. The woman had long, amber hair and was dressed very provocatively. She was reading from a large tome on a pedestal, her one hand ready to turn the page, her other hand holding a small dagger with a crimson liquid dripping from the end. Kagan was petrified and yet couldn’t take his eyes off the woman as she continued her incantations. The man in the bed continued to struggle and, suddenly, as he saw Kagan peering around the corner, he let out a loud moan through his gag and lurched with his last bit of strength towards the door. The woman looked up from her book and then turned her head quickly to lock her stern eyes squarely on Kagan. Kagan froze from fear but, at the point where he normally would have turned and ran, he instead stood where he was, his eyes locked on her. His body wouldn’t listen to his pleas and it didn’t take him long to realize that his body was no longer under his control. The woman’s gaze turned back to the bound man who, after lurching towards Kagan for help, had now passed into the afterlife and his body now hung limply from his bound limbs.
“You fool!” yelled the woman as she poked the body forcefully in the leg with the sharp end of the dagger. Blood gushed slowly from the wound, but the body didn’t respond otherwise. “You’ve killed him before I was through with him!” she exclaimed angrily. “I guess you’ll have to do now that he’s gone.” She outstretched her palm towards Kagan. He saw what seemed to be a small orb of light in her palm and he watched as it began to grow. Soon it left the confines of her hand and still grew. Suddenly it flashed outwards towards him and he was blown to the ground. The last thing he remembered as he drifted into the darkness was her saying “My son will still need a father…”
Kio’s parents are Kagan and Brachina (Pleasure Devil) and he was born in the country of Tyranthius. On the night of Kagan’s encounter with Brachina, she had been performing a ritualistic ceremony to have a child. For the ceremony she must sacrifice “one of human flesh” in order to bring another being into existence. Of the poor soul she had captured (identity unknown), she had intended to sacrifice him and, during his last moments of his life, he was to fill her with his seed so she could be impregnated. Instead, Kagan interrupted the ceremony after the captured man had died, so Brachina simply used Kagan for his seed after stunning him and blinding him in the process. Kagan, who had been a mediocre rogue to begin with, was then reduced to fits of paranoia and his marauding days had ended. Fleeing to The Grand Citadel with a roaming travel caravan, Kagan was dismissed as a crazy old loon and he scraped through life. Around 9 months later, Kagan was sitting in his home, rocking back and forth on the hard floor while mumbling about the “good old days”, which was quite typical for him, when he was greeted by a familiar voice.
“Hello again old man.” said the female voice. Although Kagan wasn’t particularly old by human standards, the rough years on the streets and certainly the event which left him sightless had both taken their physical and emotional toll on his frail body. Kagan stopped mumbling and looked (or, appeared to look) towards the origin of the voice and seemed visibly terrified. “Here is my child. Take care of him until I make my return.” Kagan heard a faint sniffle and he figured that it was the baby that she spoke of. “I will return when he’s old enough to serve me.” She said, seeming much less stern and angry than she did the last time Kagan had heard her speak, which seemed to be so long ago now. After hearing no reply from the now quivering Kagan, the female voice continued. “Farewell then. And sorry about your eyes.”
As a child Kio was often misunderstood. The other kids at school were cruel when they teased his horns, the teachers gave him a dirty look whenever he raised his hand, and even Kio’s father didn’t approve of his son’s refusal to learn the ways of the rogues. Kio hated the way his father told stories of his old adventures and the treasures he lifted and yet, when Kio asked about how his father was blinded and what happened to his mother, Kio’s father would grumble and change the subject. After his standard schooling, Kio was enrolled in the local military academy by his father in an effort to teach him discipline and to give him a direction. While he did catch on quickly to the ways of the sword and he became quite skilled, he still desired more. He often had a quick temper and there were several occasions where he grew so angry that his taunting peers were somehow thrown backward magically. For this reason the other soldier cadets were afraid of him and it was very tough for Kio to make any friends in the ranks. He never understood why these things happened to him and he wished that he knew the answers but, even more so, he wished he knew the truth about his mother. His poor, blind father knew something and Kio knew that his mother had secrets about his past. Whenever Kio mentioned the suspicious incidents involving magic to his father, the old man would tense up, apologize profusely and then weep softly for a good while.
Kio and his father had lived in The Grand Citadel since before he could remember so he was always around the army of golems and warforges. He saw the two as a perfect example of the difference between him and everyone else. The golems were emotionless, boring, and stationary, whereas the warforges were imbued with something different, something magical. Kio didn’t know much about magic, but he could tell that something else drove them and gave them purpose. The human soldiers that surrounded him everyday were like drones and he didn’t understand why they didn’t have real passion for life like he did. One evening, while out with troops, Kio went off on his own to set up his tent. He didn’t have friends so he didn’t mind being by himself. As the last embers burnt out, and his eyes began to drift, nothing seemed remarkable about this particular night. How wrong he was.
The next morning Kio woke with a quick lurch forward. He was covered in a cold sweat, he was shaking profusely, and his head was pounding. He had this strange dream with a beautiful woman with long, amber hair. She told him that she was his mother and that he was to find her because she needed his assistance. She also told him that he now had the tools he needed to fight his foes and to use them wisely. He couldn’t remember much more than that, but the thought of the nightmare made him quiver again. He stood slowly, rubbing his eyes and, without realizing what he was doing, he outstretched his palm and uttered a few phrases that he didn’t understand. Right as the words escaped his lips a beam of fire shot from his fingertips and swallowed a nearby bush. At that moment, everything in his life changed. He didn’t know the meaning behind the dream, or the origin of these strange new powers, but he did know that the woman in his dreams began it all. Over time he continued to hone his skills with the blade, but he also discovered more and more magical abilities. Whatever the meaning of it all, he was determined to find it. After this revelation his days as a duskblade began, as did his journey to find the answers.