D&D Background

She was the most beautiful angel in the heavens, and she was to be mine. I had waited years for her and I could not believe that the day of our joining was finally at hand.

"Are you ready Ceagwil?"

"Aye."

The ceremony went perfectly from all accounts, I don't remember much of it. She was so beautiful that all I could see was her. Her long flowing white gown accented her beautiful golden skin perfectly. My own long brown hair had been styled as well, but hers' framed her face in such a way that she appeared ethereal. Our time together was short, only a brief handful of years, but during that time she had given me a son and a daughter. Both with her looks and personality. I could not have been more proud. All this was cut short when War was declared.

I was called to the front lines. My skills and weapons needed most fighting against the enemy. Letters would come every week, but after a year of fighting, they tapered down to once a month, to none at all. After the war was over, I was eager to see my wife and children again. Rushing home, I discovered the place was dark, and musty.

I'll never forget an elder seeing my confusion and coming to my aid.

"They are not here Ceagwil. The King called them to court a year after you had left. I am surprised you are alive, as he had banners drawn of your death and the country mourned you as a fallen hero."

"Then I shall go to the castle and retrieve my wofe and children." I replied, turning towards the castle gates.

"Nay young one. For within a week of declaring you dead, the King took your wife as his bride. Within three months after that she became with child, and the King accused your offspring of attempting to murder the child within their mother's belly. Though, by accounts from those who survived the massacre the children were excited to welcome a sibling. And had your children executed. When I say they are there, it is because after the male Heir was born, your wife was accused of treason and attempting to kill the young prince and all are now slumbering within the tombs."

I could not believe that one of us could do something so savage, so, human, as to perform the actions the elder spoke to me about. And so, I took off towards the castle. In my mind I screamed "They are not dead!" over and over again until my heart nearly burst from my chest with the grief I felt at the possibility that it was true.

Upon reaching the doors, the soldiers I had fought with, who had stood beside me, knew why I was there and gave me sympathetic looks. But I was denied entry. By order of the King. I went then to an inn, and I learned that my daughter had been killed for running around a corner and stumbling into her mother. My son, who was barely toddling when I left for War, had disturbed his mother and the King while they slumbered because of a night terror. And my wife, for refusing the King when it was discovered that I was not dead.

That night I crept into the castle, my feet silent as they padded me through the hallways. My blade met little resistance to those who discovered me and any cry of alarm was silenced before it could be raised. My wife and children. Murdered. My oaths to my God, the one who had given me my abilities to smite the unholy, lay forgotten as I crept into the King's chambers. My oaths to this King, to this country, were little more than empty words. Empty like my life and my soul. My blades ended his tyranny, and as I lept from the castle balcony, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to Fall.

The wind rushed past my ears, blackness consumed me as I slipped out of the heavens, which now was empty, and to the human realm.