Nikink/TheSilentScream
The Silent Scream of Shaded Death that Awaits the Burdened Soul Blooming with the Fear of it's Own Destiny within the Effervescent Void of Eternal Darkness
I was born to this world the bastard child of a prostitute in the land of Stromberg. Continuing her whoring ways my mother sold me to a merchant by the name Rhyn Borgue. Borgue was an evil man and to him I was no more than a means to an end, in his eyes the end was all and the means to get there meant little.
Under Borgue's tutelage I began my fetid life as a petty thief, training for my ultimate purpose. My skill pleased Borgue and over time I became more and more skilled in the arts of Larceny and Murder. My roll was to harass, disadvantage and kill Borgue's rivals and at this I excelled. As a young adult I was sent to Swidland to murder one of Borgue's customers who had neglected to make good on a debt for too long, this would be my first assigned assassination. Ultimately I failed, however I was to learn many a valuable lesson from my pains. The most important of which, “Borgue could not be allowed to live!”
I spent a year in Swidland, during which time Borgue sent many a would be Assassin after my head. None were successful, they merely served as further training for my skills at surviving, killing and hiding. After a year of putting up with Borgue's repeated attempts at my life I felt I was finally ready to achieve my goal: the death of Borgue. Thus I set my plan in motion by hunting down and beheading every one of Borgue's hired Assassins, once I had collected all the heads (a task that took some years to complete as many of the Assassins were not even in the Hundred Kingdoms), I made for Stromberg. On the first night of Calibration I surrounded Borgue with the heads of his hirelings as he slept. On the second night I slit his wife’s throat as she lay in his arms sleeping. On the third night he was awoken by the blood dripping upon his face from the beheaded corpse of his son that I had hung from the ceiling. For four full days he lived in fear and misery! On the last night of Calibration I slit Borgue from ear to ear along with three of his hired guards.
Through all this I had gained something of a reputation among the Hundred Kingdoms. It pleased me to discover that mothers had begun using me in stories to frighten children into good behavior. Some believed I was a vengeful spirit of a man betrayed, others told stories of a dreaded Anathema that would plague the city. In any case I had been given the name “Slayer-Ghost”. This was a title that served me well and I played upon it’s reputation and the fear that it struck in the hearts of men that heard it. I began hiring my services as an Assassin, killing for money. To begin with work was sporadic at best and well below my capabilities, so I murdered many an innocent with no other purpose in mind but simply to maintain my skill and further my reputation. Gradually, as I became better known and my contacts spread further afield, my services became more and more in demand. People began to know the Slayer-Ghost as the “thing” that could kill anyone, and would kill anyone, if offered an acceptable price. It was for this reason I was approached to kill a Deathlord.
Her name was Resplendent-Vision-Of-The-Perfection-Of-Oblivion.
Setting off immediately for her Citadel in Dathnor, I spent a month in that damned hell-hole spying upon her servants and avoiding detection only to discover that she was in the Labyrinth below the city. Armed with this knowledge, and my determination, I made my way down to find and kill her.
Time flows strangely below Creation, and though I am unsure, I reckon it took me four full months to find her and make my attempt upon her life. Unsurprisingly, for the first time in many years I failed. The Deathlord was impressed that a mere mortal was able to pass her test, so I was made an offer as my last breath passed my lips.
Deathlord: “What could I offer a man of your skill?” Mook: “Die wench!” Deathlord: “I fear it is you that will die my child.” Mook: “I am no child of yours, I am no child!” Deathlord: “But you could be. Accept my offer, serve me. Throw away your name and I will give you a better name. Serve me and I will increase your skill tenfold, I will make you so no man can stop you!” Mook: “You can not make me better than I can make my self.” Deathlord: “I killed you.” Mook: “…………” Deathlord: “Who can make you better, if not the one who bettered you?” Mook: “…………… None” Deathlord: “Then accept my gift.” Mook: “……………” Deathlord: “Serve me, and I will make you great.” Mook: “……Then make me great………”.
I was immediately taken deeper into the Labyrinth, directly to the Neverborn. It was here, in this damned cold place, that I died and was born again into Death. My name was taken from me and I was given the new title “Shaded-Death-In-Eternal-Darkness”.
Upon returning to the Citadel my Mistress gifted me with ancient artifacts that she had been holding for one such as me. These are the Blades-Of-Hungry-Shadowsouls, the Belt-Of-Shadow-Walking and Claws-Of-Spider-Climb. She also gave me access to mortal spies to do my bidding and began training me in the use of my improved talents. During this training my Mistress took heed of my natural skills and re-named me “The-Silent-Scream-From-Shaded-Death-Waiting-In-Eternal-Darkness”.
After this time of training my services became truly needed for the first time. A thorn in my Mistress’s side was to be removed, finally I had a purpose. My Mistress required the death of a Dragon-Blood in one of the Hundred Kingdoms: Saitul. Saitul was a place I had been to before to kill and claim the head of another Assassin all those years ago. I showed no pity on this fool that troubled my Mistress, rather I tortured him. By the time I was finished and ready to let him pass he was to beg me for his death. For months I tortured him, in darkness I killed his family as he watched helpless, too distant to intervene. His wife’s death rattle woke him from his dreams of horror. His meals, hidden beneath silver platters, became replaced with the heads of his serfs and were served up to him. His brother died nailed and bleeding on his northern wall. Finally, once the burden upon his soul had become so great that he prayed for his own death to his Dragon Spirits, I slit him open with his own chakram as he slept so he would not witness his release.
Upon returning to my Mistress I was greeted with great pride in my deeds. The dragon child had been tempted with a blessing, though his fear of all things was too great. In return for my deeds my Mistress once again re-named me with the title: “The-Silent-Scream-Of-Shaded-Death-Awaiting-The-Burdened-Soul-In-Fear-Of-Eternal-Darkness.” Despite all this my Mistress decided to continue my training, so far a time I was to continue learning.
Finally it became my time once again to kill for my Mistress. She had been watching a man fascinated with death for some time and wanted him for her own. This fool had it in his mind to steal from my Mistress and I was to thwart him and fill him with fear to the point that he could not refuse our gift of death.
Yet again I departed for Saitul to harass my newest victim. The soul was already fleeing from his enemies though none were as skilled as I. The first I saw of my new toy was as he left the gates of Saitul, from here I followed him for the duration of his voyage. A number of times I was forced to kill some of his pursuers, his death would be at my hands and none others. During his voyage I made the poor man's life hell, I tainted his food with the blood of children that I left hanging by their feet at the entrance of his tent and strewn their entrails across its peak. Then loaded his campfire with beetles that reeked with the beautiful stench of death as they burned. To slow him down I severed his right Achilles-tendon merely half-way into his journey. However, his will was strong and he persevered.
One night in a village he took a young wench whom I knifed as she rode him, before he could get his pleasure from her. Knocking him cold I strung him from his wrist from a tree with his dead lover. When he woke he found all his belongings strewn about the ground around him torn and broken. He had difficulty explaining to the mayor of that town why the wench was naked and her bosom wet with semen. They punished him further.
As he entered the Shadowlands my spies harried him with sounds of death and wild animals, they spooked him with lights in the darkness. I broke his lantern and my Mistress brought the rain so there could be no fire to light his way. At his weakest moment, cold and defenseless I herded wolves to attack him and wound him. All this is merely a sample of the pain I inflicted upon him as my Mistress touched his mind with the seduction of our deaths beauty.
Finally, as he entered our fine city, I gave him peace enough that he could fully hear the caressing voice of my Mistress. Even still, I followed him as he made his way to the tomb that held the artefact he was seeking. I waited there in the shadows of the tomb for my final strike. As he entered the tomb I could smell his fear and it was as a blooming garden to my senses. Watching in the shadows as he searched for the tome, I struck as he retrieved it and clutched it to his breast. As the second blade struck home he called out his acceptance to my Mistress so I caught his falling form, bound him and carried him deep into the Citadel where my Mistress waited.
As I returned my Mistress’s pride was once again palpable. She said to me “My child you have done me proud, but now I have another to train. So go now you who shall be The-Silent-Scream-Of-Shaded-Death-That-Awaits-The-Burdened-Soul-Blooming-With-The-Fear-Of-It's-Own-Destiny-Within-The-Effervescent-Void-Of-Eternal-Darkness. I shall call when next I need your service.” [And can breath again... - nik ;-)]
Now that I was freed there was one thing that I wished to deal with. The fact that the Hag that forced me into unwilling life was still free was a weight on my mind that I wished to correct. So with my Mistress' blessing I set about tracking the Bitch down. Firstly, before I left, I set about getting a cell built in my room, too short for a human to stand in comfortably, yet to narrow to sit in. Once this was done I could set about my task.
Returning to Stromberg once more, I set about reforming to contacts within the world of the living, contacts that I had once known in my now cast away old self. Under my new [name?], for none recognized me, though I knew what it was that they needed, to be willing to deal with me, so it was these things that I offered. I set my spies to work to find where the Hag now lived so that I might employ all my resources to track her down. In the end the task was not difficult and she was found working in a run down Brothel on the western edge of the city.
I made my way to find her but not to kill her, she was to become a trophy for my enjoyment. The Brothel in which she worked was a cheap Whorehouse where the old hags that could no longer fetch a decent price worked and where the poor went to spread their disease. She did not recognize me, so I hired her services for the night then when I was finished bound her and stole her away to Dathnor. Ever since I have kept her in that cage in my room, fed just enough to survive and deprived of clothes and dignity. There is the occasion that I let the bitch have time free of the cage, but when I do she is bound and led by a leash for the amusement of visitors whom I let have their way with her should they please. If not then she will be forced to dance for us or soil herself with whatever beast my guests desire. It matters not to me what they desire be done with her, merely that it must belittle her and never end her suffering. I have even had her marked so that if she does pass on that I may capture her spirit and destroy it’s dignity further. But for now she decorates my room with her broken form and sings me to sleep with her hopeless wailing.
I have since discovered that I have two sisters and a brother. One day I hope to find them and add them to my collection…..
