Corwin the Tiefling Blood Hunter (Order of the Profane Soul)
Born a human but not destined to be one, Corwin’s life changed forever the night his family were taken from him. On the outskirts of the shadowlands, his family were well known for providing a night of momentary respite and entertainment to weary travellers putting on short plays, songs, or poetry recitals for meagre coin. On his 15th birthday, they were visited by an old man, lordly in manner but polite and well-travelled. He came with his own story they were to tell, a ballad recounting the events of his ancestry for years past. The words felt wrong to read and at first the language seemed unreadable. Yet, read it they could and the family memorised the stanzas and recounted the tale that very evening to the man in the shadow of a forest leading to the shadowlands.
The tale was a haunting one, full of mysterious bloodshed and woe and although the family found it unsettling, the man seemed satisfied enough. Corwin spent that evening plagued with terrible fever dreams filled with whispers in the dark and ghouls and apparitions, not unlike in tone to the tale he had read that night. He woke at dawn to find his parents dead, his sister missing and the house in disarray. Whoever had done the deed was clearly not human, with his mother and father shrivelled in body and eyes wide in abject terror. Filled with a mixture of terror at what he’d experienced and rage driving him on in vengeance, Corwin fled into the shadowlands.
A young man venturing into the shadowlands by himself would usually have a quick demise but this was not to be for Corwin and it was by sheer luck that he encountered the blood hunter Brand who, recognising the boy’s pain, took him in. Corwin’s thirst for vengeance and understanding over that fateful night dominated his character and understanding his old life to be over, he sought training from Brand in the life of a blood hunter.
In those next few years, Brand taught Corwin all he knew in sword play and the use of a crossbow and inducted him into the order and it was not long before the two were skilled hunters, seeking out the very worst the lands had to offer. With the killing came some understanding but Corwin was no closer to learning the nature of what had done for his family. It was old evil and of the darkness, that much was clear, but at the same time altogether unknowable, like a shadow always slipping out of sight. His research took him into the nature of the old gods and although Brand counselled him of the dangers, Corwin knew that he needed to ask help from the very source.
So it came that Corwin departed from his mentor, took the order of profane soul and sought out a temple to Vim, the stalker of the damned, the only God he knew who would support his course. And support it she did, but as with most deities, at a price. Visited in a dream she imparted the knowledge that his family had most likely encountered an eldritch tome and that it was servants of the oldest gods of all that he sought, one’s who dealt in madness and despair with no rhyme or reason. He was told that he needed to delve deeper into hunting the darkness but to do so, one had to better understand it and what better way than to become a creature of it. So Corwin awoke to find himself changed into a Tiefling, forever cursed to see a reminder of his pain every time he looked into a mirror.
Corwin’s mission has remained the same. He seeks out those from the underdark, the ghouls and foul things not of this world, that stay as a plague upon it. With every adventure he takes he hopes to come closer to understanding the nature of the old gods and to gain an understanding of what it was that destroyed his childhood that fateful night.
Born a human but not destined to be one, Corwin’s life changed forever the night his family were taken from him. On the outskirts of the shadowlands, his family were well known for providing a night of momentary respite and entertainment to weary travellers putting on short plays, songs, or poetry recitals for meagre coin. On his 15th birthday, they were visited by an old man, lordly in manner but polite and well-travelled. He came with his own story they were to tell, a ballad recounting the events of his ancestry for years past. The words felt wrong to read and at first the language seemed unreadable. Yet, read it they could and the family memorised the stanzas and recounted the tale that very evening to the man in the shadow of a forest leading to the shadowlands.
The tale was a haunting one, full of mysterious bloodshed and woe and although the family found it unsettling, the man seemed satisfied enough. Corwin spent that evening plagued with terrible fever dreams filled with whispers in the dark and ghouls and apparitions, not unlike in tone to the tale he had read that night. He woke at dawn to find his parents dead, his sister missing and the house in disarray. Whoever had done the deed was clearly not human, with his mother and father shrivelled in body and eyes wide in abject terror. Filled with a mixture of terror at what he’d experienced and rage driving him on in vengeance, Corwin fled into the shadowlands.
A young man venturing into the shadowlands by himself would usually have a quick demise but this was not to be for Corwin and it was by sheer luck that he encountered the blood hunter Brand who, recognising the boy’s pain, took him in. Corwin’s thirst for vengeance and understanding over that fateful night dominated his character and understanding his old life to be over, he sought training from Brand in the life of a blood hunter.
In those next few years, Brand taught Corwin all he knew in sword play and the use of a crossbow and inducted him into the order and it was not long before the two were skilled hunters, seeking out the very worst the lands had to offer. With the killing came some understanding but Corwin was no closer to learning the nature of what had done for his family. It was old evil and of the darkness, that much was clear, but at the same time altogether unknowable, like a shadow always slipping out of sight. His research took him into the nature of the old gods and although Brand counselled him of the dangers, Corwin knew that he needed to ask help from the very source.
So it came that Corwin departed from his mentor, took the order of profane soul and sought out a temple to Vim, the stalker of the damned, the only God he knew who would support his course. And support it she did, but as with most deities, at a price. Visited in a dream she imparted the knowledge that his family had most likely encountered an eldritch tome and that it was servants of the oldest gods of all that he sought, one’s who dealt in madness and despair with no rhyme or reason. He was told that he needed to delve deeper into hunting the darkness but to do so, one had to better understand it and what better way than to become a creature of it. So Corwin awoke to find himself changed into a Tiefling, forever cursed to see a reminder of his pain every time he looked into a mirror.
Corwin’s mission has remained the same. He seeks out those from the underdark, the ghouls and foul things not of this world, that stay as a plague upon it. With every adventure he takes he hopes to come closer to understanding the nature of the old gods and to gain an understanding of what it was that destroyed his childhood that fateful night.