Stories : Of Remembrance and Vengeance

Well over 500 years ago, during the Age of War, there lived a barbarian by the name of Celestiant Domstol. This man swore to uphold the honor of his clan and to stand defiantly against the Gods of Norrath.

When Celestiant was but a young lad, training to become mighty warrior for the defense of the great halls of Halas, his family was ambushed and slaughtered while gathering food around the frosty peaks of Everfrost by a pack of marauding gnolls. When Celestiant heard news of this from the Halas guard reports, he was too young to fully understand and blamed the loss of his family on the Tribunal for not protecting them when he could not. He swore, from that day forward, to forsake his birth name and all the Gods. He took up the surname Apokalypse and awaited his opportunity to venture forth into the planes of the Gods to exact his vengeance.

Many years later, when at last the mortals of Norrath broke the seal to the Planes, Celestiant Apokalypse stepped forward with a determined glare, a vengeful soul and his instruments of deicide. For many seasons he sought out the Gods, unfortunately only find their avatars. Growing weary with age, Celestiant was eventually dealt with his death blow by the hammer of the Tribunal when he agreed to help fellow adventurers achieve greater success in the Planes. During the Trials, Celestiant sacrificed himself by distracting all the opponents off the cleric so she could heal herself. Unfortunately she could not also save him, as he was overtaken. In the end, the group did manage to pull through and save the prisoner from the unjust execution.

Celestiant was praised as a fallen hero among the halls of Halas for his selfless act and given a proper Halasian warrior’s burial. It was later revealed, that with his dying breath, he swore his bloodline would follow in his footsteps forever seeking retribution for the wrongs done to his family.

In the years following the devestation of the Rending, all the Halasian clans had abandoned Halas. Last rumors had the city aflame as it sank into the depths of the rising sea. Some clans were able to escape and continue their lives in the two remaining bastions of civilization, Qeynos and Freeport. While others made for a nomadic life scattered throughout the frozen highlands of the north.

Stjerne and Isbane Gudslag were but two of only a few hundred barbarians left to live through these desolate times. They had grown up together in the clan Tapt Vandrer which chose to stay among the icy peaks and wander in search of the lost halls of Halas. Their unyielding love and bond was wrought from the constant attacks of the patrolling orc hordes who had slain so many of their kinsmen in the chaos following the Rending.

On a rare quiet evening, a pregnant Stjerne was reading through the journals of her family. She was the last of her bloodline now and was taught to hold these journals most precious. Oddly enough, it was the first time she’d really taken the time to look through them. Living a fearful nomadic life avoiding the now rampant orc hordes of the highlands doesn’t allow for much time of reflection. As she traced her family lineage, she came across a name that stood out from the rest.

Stjerne read aloud, “Celestiant Domstol? That doesn’t seem like a true Halasian name.”

She noted the surname was crossed out in faded blood. Underneath it she could barely make out the revised script. “Apok… Apokaiyoso… Apokalypse?” she whispered.

As the years passed after the birth of Stjerne and Isbane’s son, Celestiant was told the stories of his clan and the adventures of his ancestors. He too took great pride in their deeds, taking the most interest in the warrior he was named after. Stjerne and Isbane had also taught him that no matter how brave and honorable his ancestor was, the ancestral Celestiant was mistaken to seek vengeance upon the Tribunal rather than upon the gnolls themselves. In the current condition of the world, it was important to have faith that the Tribunal would soon return to bring balance and justice to their lives once again.

Celestiant was becoming a strong young barbarian and believed it was his destiny to raise his clan’s banner in the halls of Halas once more. He went to the elders and asked their advice in such matters. They could only teach him so much in the ways of war however. It had been so long for this nomadic clan since they had lived a life for battle. Celestiant managed to achieve great skill in the art of defense and knew how to wield a variety of weapons well, but unfortunately the elders could teach him no more.

During one of Celestiant’s afternoon hunts on a particularly snowy afternoon when one couldn’t see their own hand extended in front of them. He decided to call his hunt short and head back to the caves. As he drew closer he heard faint cries and clashing iron. He quickened his pace and came upon a terrific scene. A band of orcs had found their camp.

A handful of the clan defenders lay lifeless in the snow. The once white and pristine snow was now corrupted and dyed a vile crimson. Celestiant unsheathed his sword and drew his hunting axe, ignoring his shield. He charged at the small band or orcs from behind. With a burning rage he let loose a deeply pained guttural scream. Startled, the orcs turned just in time to see Celestiant’s blades screaming towards them and were hewed down.

Looking around at the pile of lifeless bodies around him, Celestiant heard a scream deeper within the cave. He screamed for his mother and heard his name yelled in return. He heedlessly ran towards his mother’s voice. He stopped short, frozen in terror. The flicker of candlelight revealed a sight too terrible for Celestiant to overcome. He saw his father staring back at him with blazoned eyes and his own sword embedded through his abdomen. There stood a gigantic orc with a presence Celestiant had never encountered. The orc turned towards Celestiant, grinning through sharply filed teeth. In one hand, the orc had a grasp around Isbane’s neck while lifting him off the ground and in the other he held Stjerne, struggling to free herself. Without further hesitation the massive orc crushed Isbane’s neck with what seemed like an effortless squeeze of his fingers. Isbane’s body fell lifeless to the ground with a wet thud.

As the orc turned away from Celestiant and towards Stjerne, Celestiant broke from his stupor and leapt towards the orc. The vile creature abruptly turned and knocked Celestiant clear across the room as the snapping of his ribs echoed around the cave. He managed to pick himself up and tried one more time to save his mother but it was too late. Her screams had stopped as the orc had already sunken his teeth into her neck ripping her throat wide open. The orc spat out the viscera as the life drained from Stjerne’s eyes. Celestiant grabbed his blades and quickly struck the axe into the orc’s back. The orc let loose a blood curdling scream, dropping Stjerne to the ground and turned to face Celestiant one last time. Celestiant followed up the attack by cleaving the orc through the chin and slicing upwards through the orc’s left eye. The orc stumbled backwards and fell to his knees clawing at his mutilated face. Celestiant, taking pleasure in the fallen orc’s agony, took the edge of his blade to the orc’s abdomen and ritualistically spilled the fowl creature’s innards across the cave floor. Celestiant gazed upon the steam rising from the orc’s spilled remains and found solace in this macabre vision.

Turning to his mother now, Celestiant found her already dead and unable to say their goodbyes in person. He cried over his mother’s lifeless body for a few moments until he heard more cries from outside the cave. He said his farewell and kissed each of her eyelids knowing she’d find her way to the halls of their ancestors. He arose and walked forth from the cave where the snow had now cleared up. He found the last of his kinsman slain defending the cave and a small army of orcs plundering their remains. Being as battered as he was and as emotionally defeated by the loss of his mother, he decided it would be a foolish suicide to go up against that many orcs alone. So he tried to slip away unnoticed, but an orc spied his movements and alerted the others. He made for his escape to the nearby coastline with the orcs in pursuit.

Celestiant came upon a cliff that went straight down about 20 yards into the freezing, foaming ocean current. He turned to see the orcs still coming strong and turned again to the ocean. With out a second thought he jumped over the cliff face as the orcs stopped and peered over the edge laughing… During one of Celestiant’s afternoon hunts on a particularly snowy afternoon when one couldn’t see their own hand extended in front of them. He decided to call his hunt short and head back to the caves. As he drew closer he heard faint cries and clashing iron. He quickened his pace and came upon a terrific scene. A band of orcs had found their camp.

A handful of the clan defenders lay lifeless in the snow. The once white and pristine snow was now corrupted and dyed a vile crimson. Celestiant unsheathed his sword and drew his hunting axe, ignoring his shield. He charged at the small band or orcs from behind. With a burning rage he let loose a deeply pained guttural scream. Startled, the orcs turned just in time to see Celestiant’s blades screaming towards them and were hewed down.

Looking around at the pile of lifeless bodies around him, Celestiant heard a scream deeper within the cave. He screamed for his mother and heard his name yelled in return. He heedlessly ran towards his mother’s voice. He stopped short, frozen in terror. The flicker of candlelight revealed a sight too terrible for Celestiant to overcome. He saw his father staring back at him with blazoned eyes and his own sword embedded through his abdomen. There stood a gigantic orc with a presence Celestiant had never encountered. The orc turned towards Celestiant, grinning through sharply filed teeth. In one hand, the orc had a grasp around Isbane’s neck while lifting him off the ground and in the other he held Stjerne, struggling to free herself. Without further hesitation the massive orc crushed Isbane’s neck with what seemed like an effortless squeeze of his fingers. Isbane’s body fell lifeless to the ground with a wet thud.

As the orc turned away from Celestiant and towards Stjerne, Celestiant broke from his stupor and leapt towards the orc. The vile creature abruptly turned and knocked Celestiant clear across the room as the snapping of his ribs echoed around the cave. He managed to pick himself up and tried one more time to save his mother but it was too late. Her screams had stopped as the orc had already sunken his teeth into her neck ripping her throat wide open. The orc spat out the viscera as the life drained from Stjerne’s eyes. Celestiant grabbed his blades and quickly struck the axe into the orc’s back. The orc let loose a blood curdling scream, dropping Stjerne to the ground and turned to face Celestiant one last time. Celestiant followed up the attack by cleaving the orc through the chin and slicing upwards through the orc’s left eye. The orc stumbled backwards and fell to his knees clawing at his mutilated face. Celestiant, taking pleasure in the fallen orc’s agony, took the edge of his blade to the orc’s abdomen and ritualistically spilled the fowl creature’s innards across the cave floor. Celestiant gazed upon the steam rising from the orc’s spilled remains and found solace in this macabre vision.

Turning to his mother now, Celestiant found her already dead and unable to say their goodbyes in person. He cried over his mother’s lifeless body for a few moments until he heard more cries from outside the cave. He said his farewell and kissed each of her eyelids knowing she’d find her way to the halls of their ancestors. He arose and walked forth from the cave where the snow had now cleared up. He found the last of his kinsman slain defending the cave and a small army of orcs plundering their remains. Being as battered as he was and as emotionally defeated by the loss of his mother, he decided it would be a foolish suicide to go up against that many orcs alone. So he tried to slip away unnoticed, but an orc spied his movements and alerted the others. He made for his escape to the nearby coastline with the orcs in pursuit.

When Celestiant awoke, he found himself aboard a merchant vessel surrounded by strangers heading towards a place called the Isle of Refuge. He knew not what awaited him there but was too exhausted to be worried.

When the ship arrived at the port, he found a diverse group of beings all with similar tales of woe. Celestiant found guidance from this curious creature called a dwarf that went by the name of Braksan Steelforge. Braksan listened to Celestiant’s story and agreed it would better serve his family’s name if he lived to fight another day. So Braksan had taken Celestiant under his guidance, teaching him the ways of a true fighter. Celestiant was a quick study and had absorbed all of which Braksan had to teach in just a few short days.

During his stay on the Isle, Celestiant had learned much of the tidings between the struggles of the great city Freeport and its great leader, Lucan. The city was under constant siege against the invading orc armies. Celestiant instantly associated himself with the cause of Freeport for it meant a ready supply of orcs to slay.

Socializing with the other refugees on the isle, Celestiant had absorbed information of the Gods of the past. He learned of the dark gods, the light bringers and the influencers. He took a keen interest in the ways of the 7^th Hammer, the Executioner for the Tribunal. Celestiant swore his devotion to this god and promised to carry out his vengeful version of justice against the orcs for slaughtering his family.

When the time came for the merchant vessel to leave port and head to its ultimate destination, he was ready to venture forth and make a life of his own. He would spread the teachings of vengeance and justice of the 7^th Hammer against those creatures who had defiled this land for too long. He would lay waste to not just the orcs that threatened Freeport but all who stood in his way in this desolate, god-forsaken world.

Thus continued the legacy his ancestor had established over 500 hundred years ago. Celestiant Gudslag was born and had found his purpose. No matter if the Gods were now silent, he had hoped his deeds would not go unnoticed by the Tribunal. He sought to atone for the mistake of his ancestor and inspire his god to come forth once more.

 “By the bane of my blade, a mighty spell is made and far beyond the battle, blood shall fall like a hard rain.”