Belial Blackravens (DnD)

Belial Blackravens

(DnD Cheat Version)

Madlings, we have arrived at the haunted one. Time to make the psychotic son of Lilith into a crazy moon cleric. This idea took a bit of diving into a world I don't understand yet. Hope this gives you good information to use in your campaign Mad.

Belial never knew the exact year of his birth. Nor did the cleric that found him lost and alone in the Verdant Expanse. He remembered his name Belial Blackravens. He was too young to remember so much vital information. Belial couldn't remember his parents or the fact they abandoned him out of fear. He wouldn't have known he was born while Ruidus flared.

If Belial had any memory before the cleric took him to the Spires of Yurek, he would have been better prepared when history repeated. Would Belial have been more prepared if he knew the second couple to raise him were murdered in a Drow raid? How would the cleric react if they knew Belial was a sacrifice inside Ruhn-Shak? The cleric was oblivious that Tharizdun had already begun whispering to this child of the woods.

A foolish Drow desperate for power thought to sacrifice Belial in a rite of ascension. This rushed attempt would leave Belial with a vertical scar across his left eye. Belial couldn't remember screaming in agony as the wizard cut out his left eye. Belial didn't remember fighting off the attempt to take his right oculus, leaving him with a second vertical scar across his mouth.

How could Belial Blackravens have known that his wicked prophecy was only beginning? Pressing his tiny thumbs into the occultists' eyes. Belial unknowingly completed a ritual connecting himself to a god of madness and deceit. At that moment, the whispers began flooding Belial's mind. A god of death had claimed Belial and the child had no defense against the madness.

When the cleric found Belial in the woods rambling nonsense, she couldn't have known any of these facts. The woman only saw a child needing assistance rambling off a language as foreign to her as it was to Belial. The cleric took Belial to the Memory Ward within Syngorn in a search for answers. Belial first crossed into Syngorn on the 13th of Duscar 780 PD. He doesn't remember this, but the Dreamweavers heavily monitored everything Belial did following this date.

The cleric that found Belial brought him to the Spires of Yurek. A Dreamweaver scholar recognized the language immediately as Abyssal. An elder Dreamweaver confirmed Belial spoke the language of demons for a reason none could ever determine. How could any of them know of his time in Ruhn-Shak? That Belial had unknowingly attached himself to the Abyss.

Teaching Belial to speak in Common and Elvish would take nearly ten years. In those ten years, Belial never once left the Memory Ward. He spent every moment studying in his dormitory. He only left the Spires to travel to the Tower of Moonlight. For a reason unknown to Belial from the first day he arrived in Syngorn, the Voice of Memory had guided him. Listening to Ouestra sing silenced the madness of the Abyss raging inside Belial. While he didn't know his age, by 790 PD, Belial had the physique of an adult wood elf male.

Another ten years passed in the blink of an eye as Belial absorbed any information he could to understand his whispers. The main focus of his study was religion, history, and healing. Belial becoming a cleric was a natural progression for him at the time. The madness lessened when Belial was helping heal people or aiding the Dreamweavers. Climbing each of the 1000 steps to tend the Sequoia of Remembrance was therapy against the whispers.

Belial almost exclusively sustained himself with conjured food made weekly and maintained through a simple purifying spell. Belial even mended his clothes at regular intervals repairing any torn seem. Belial had learned to care for his needs personally. Fewer distractions that way.

On Winter's Crest in 800 PD, Belial was gifted a magical replacement eye. Twenty years had passed since he was brought to Syngorn. While Belial had no problem with the scars and eyepatch, a few wanted to fix it. Belial acquiesced only at the behest of another student that he cared for. An adult elf female with raven black hair and hazel green eyes.

Belial grew close to the woman as they healed and guided lost souls from the madness. Her name was Ledona, and no matter how much he tried, she refused to give up on him. Ledona thought Belial's name was a lie and there was no such thing as worthless insight. Ledona believed there was a purpose to the whispers. Ledona thinks everything happens for a reason and gives us the wisdom to battle what will come.

She convinced Belial to leave the Memory Ward. Ledona convinced him to join a party of adventures as their healer. The party traveled through the Verdant Expanse in search of some ridiculous prophecy. Ledona assured Belial this experience with people other than herself would teach him many life lessons.

Reluctantly Belial joined the party in 807 and, after 27 years, finally left Syngorn. About a month into their exploration and search for a stupid sword. They were ambushed near the Gladepools. There was nothing to save the party of four from an entire raiding company of Drow. A lesson the greedy paladin that brought them all here should have known. The paladin believed he was destined to save Runh-Shak from madness. Now a paladin and his halfling rogue wife were dead.

The raiders took Belial captive instead of killing him outright. Belial might also have joined the dead if old habits hadn't emerged. The whispers spoke through Belial in Abyssal in a command Belial didn't quite understand. Whatever Belial said spared him at least a dagger across his throat.

Belial again was taken deep within the Stormcrest Mountains. Each foot into the mountains made his whispers worst. Ledona had taught Belial how to silence the ceaseless mania through a spell. Even if it were just 10 minutes at a time, they would be 30 vital minutes of daily meditation going forward.

Belial was a relatively high-value commodity in Ruhn-Shak, a Drow city of barely 6000 people. An educated cleric that knew a plethora of spells. A tortured soul that spoke four different languages. To lessen his madness, Belial spent a decade delving through history to understand the betrayer gods. The day he hit the slave market was the last day his captures would work for years.

A wealthy Drow couple with political ambitions had purchased Belial. The couple was decent enough for insane politicians. Belial was to serve as a translator for them as they understood Elvish, but Undercommon confused the couple as much as Abyssal. Belial didn't know Undercommon, yet he could fake it for the first year in Ruhn-Shak until he did.

For five years, Belial lived with this couple. Due to his guidance and knowledge, the pair climbed the ranks in the city. Five years of madness creeping into Belial's brain. One insane whisper at a time. Combined with endless political schemes and death Belial was haunted and hollow.

It began slowly, the increased hunger to consume everything. A supply of conjured food that lasted a week once was devoured in three days. Over time the meditation had grown less effective, and he was having uncontrollable bursts of anger. In 812 PD, that anger became a moment of pure mania.

This day had started like any other since Belial arrived in Ruhn-Shak. Belial ate bland food he created for himself early in the morning. Followed by his morning meditation of silence as he traversed the narrow corridors toward the markets. He was to attend a negotiation for his master. The pair of Drow that owned Belial were more paranoid than even Belial, so he was forced to participate alone.

Belial should have known something was off as he was led into a small chamber with only one entryway. If Belial weren't so lost in his meditation to silence the whispers, he would have been able to hear the druid scheme. Belial didn't notice fast enough to prevent three Pit Witches from collapsing the tunnel behind him. Darkness enveloped Belial as large boulders and dirt buried him within the underground prison.

Belial felt more comfortable in the darkness than in the markets. Even in the dark, Belial could see well enough to understand his situation. He was stuck underground in a chamber likely explicitly created to trap him. It was beyond Belial to think anyone would go so far as to bury him alive in a cave. The intelligent play Belial thought was to kill him outright. Perhaps they believed Belial deserved to suffer alone in a cave for some slight that he had caused someone.

Surviving in a cramped chamber underground was no different than isolating in a room within the Spires of Yurek. The problem was figuring out how to escape from his prison. Belial was not trained in any form of earth magic. He wouldn't be able to remove the rocks from the passage quickly. The witches that placed him here should have sealed the chamber completely. Their flaw of logic was collapsing the tunnel with boulders and dirt.

It took days for Belial to discover a plan of escape. It might take time, but if there were cracks to be found in the rocks blocking his exit, water would find them. His idea was essentially water is a little invasive element that seeps its way into everything. The problem was this would take time. This would take a combination of spells. He would have to give up his 30 minutes of daily meditation and silence to lessen the whispers.

It took days for Belial using create water to fill the chamber even above his ankles. Lucky for Belial, the cavern had a natural ledge about 3 feet long and 2 feet in depth. This wasn't enough to lay and sleep. Belial used the gap to escape from always sitting in water.

A week or so later, Belial raised the water to his knees. Focusing a few spells a day to work on his thaumaturgy spell. One minute of benign tremors couldn't move the boulders from the passage. However, it could shift them enough for water to soak deeper into the sediment. Water had begun to erode and weaken any crack it could find in the rocks.

He was alone, locked in the maddening whispers of his tomb. An unknown amount of time passed before the trickle of air bubbles became a constant stream of significant air pockets. Belial hadn't realized he was now casting and speaking in Abyssal. Still, he struggled forward to escape the insanity. His days were spent casting spells to exhaustion, then meditating as best he could.

Belial knew it was time as many air streams burbled on the water's surface. The water level had begun to lower during his four-hour daily meditation. Belial didn't know how long he had been locked in this cell, but the water had shown him a path out.

Summoning a spectral hammer weapon and casting four simultaneous tremors, Belial knew it was now or never. The first strike of the hammer did nothing. His final hope was a level three spectral javelin stabbed between two boulders. Once more, he cast his hammer to strike at the blunt end of the spear like a nail.

Belial managed to puncture the wall enough for nature to take over. There was no controlling his body as several hundred gallons of water burst through the tunnel. The witches should have just killed him outright. Months in the dark, listening to the madness growing louder since he entered Ruhn-Shak. Belial was not himself as he walked back to the city markets.

It didn't take long to discover that the Drow that owned him was dead. Just another ambitious politician brought down by more ambitious fools. Freedom was a weird thing for Belial. While he was indeed enslaved and was not allowed to leave the city, the couple had always been kind. They didn't mistreat him in any way. Quite the opposite. So the news of their deaths filled Belial with bloodlust he had never felt.

Belial had always been observant. Determining who murdered his Drow masters was a simple feat. The prideful fools were mad enough to boast about the thing. Belial wouldn't make the mistakes the witches made. He would make sure the witches didn't survive and be cruel.

There was no sound as Belial snuck into their home in the middle of the night. Belial shattered two unbreakable edicts using magic to murder the first witch. The large male was one of the three that had buried Belial. This hulk of a warrior was the one Belial stabbed silently in the heart with a spectral dagger. Why not break a third unbreakable edict? It was all of nothing now. The whispers convinced Belial he was doomed already.

Necromancy, or at least the study of it, was not forbidden. Only the act of using it was condemned. Belial spent decades studying the rituals of betrayer gods. As the large male was animated to live once more, Belial felt nothing. When the animated hulk strangled its confused lover, Belial also felt nothing. Ordering the abomination Belial had created to eviscerate, he spoke in Abyssal. Belial watched emotionlessly as the beast tore through the stomach of a third witch, feasting on the intestine.

Belial left Ruhn-Shak that night and walked among the trees for the first time in nearly six years. It took weeks of wondering about the Verdant Expanse before Belial regained any form of himself. The knowledge of the sins he had committed overwhelmed him. Belial knew he couldn't return to the Memory Ward. He could never add his memories to the Sequoia of Remembrance.

Remaining in the Verdant Expanse was no longer an option. Belial knew he had to put distance between himself and Syngorn. One old classmate of Belial's had already recognized him. It took much convincing to explain away the scars across his face. Belial decided his only hope was to travel north to find peace. He couldn't forgive himself for what he had done. Belial only hoped he could return to helping others.

For a few years, Belial traveled as a nomad north, aiding people when he could. The further north he traveled, the more people he assisted. Sometime in 816 PD, Belial arrived in Lyrengorn. This was about as far north as he possibly could run. Here Belial settled into society for the first time since he had escaped the caves.

In Lyrengorn, Belial witnessed the Moonweaver's Ribbons ceremony. Watching the sky swimmers hook and shape ribbons of light as they rode wyverns brought peace to Belial. This moment changed Belial, and he became a cleric of the moon domain. Belial was free of the whispers for the first time as he lived in Lyrengorn.

During the ribbon ceremony in 829, Belial would again be recognized by a phantom from his past. The last Moonweaver ritual of the century had drew quite a crowd. Among them was a woman who, even after 22 years of them being parted, had recognized Belial instantly. Ledona flooded Belial with questions he was unprepared to answer.

Belial lies to Ledona in the end. Explains to her that she meant nothing and that he just left her and the city behind. Adventure called his name. Her beauty was nothing compared to the ribbons above them. As the moon danced around them in splendor, Belial chose to lie rather than allow Ledona to see his demons. Leaving the woman he loved in tears, Belial once again decided to flee.

This time Belial would leave Tal'Dorai altogether. By 830 PD, Belial had set sail for Wildemount alone on a tiny raft he built himself. Belial used the sun to guide him east as he sailed alone during the day. Belial would enchant a moon sphere from Lyrengorn with light to navigate at night. Again, creating food and mending his raft were simple things learned from his years in the Spires of Yurek.

Belial had arrived in the Menagerie Coast before the end of 830 PD. Determined not to make the same mistakes again, he wouldn't settle anywhere. Instead, Belial would spend six years slowly moving east from port to port. Belial had no interest in going anywhere near the Kyrn Dynasty. The whispers were still intense in caves. Belial had no reason to tempt fate with the Drow empire.

In 836 PD, Belial found himself in the port city of Nicodranas. Here Belial works as a guide and cleric as he always did. Belial was approached one evening by a man named Prolix. Prolix lead a group of archaeologists hailing from Ank'Harel. Belial isn't sure why, but he agreed to guide them into Xhorhas. The ultimate goal is to reach Bazzoxan in the Barbed fields.

This was a massive adventure, and after weeks of being promised unprecedented opportunities, Belial didn't care. It wasn't Prolix but something else guiding Belial further east as they hiked the Ashkeeper peaks. Trudging swamps just felt like being home in the Verdant Expanse. Bartering passage on a turtle caravan was expensive but not a price Belial himself would be forced to pay. Prolix led this wayward bunch of fools.

The trip through the Badlands was hell. Belial missed trees; to him, a wasteland might as well be a cave. The only saving grace was he could see the moon at night. When they crossed into Bazzoxan, Belial couldn't wait to be free of these people. He didn't know how long he would be with Prolix. Belial just felt he needed to be here. He was waiting for the next thing to push him forward. Belial had traveled about as far from Syngorn as he possibly could. Yet, the whispers still haunted him.