Character Concept- Sir Owen
Sorry about that, stranger. I'm well and truely sorry for your injuries. Our city has more than its fair share of vicious folk, though judging my your wounds, I'd guess you tangled with Sir Owen. If that is the case, more's the shame you didn't finish him.
Sir Owen is something of a local legend, around here. Very tragic, really. A good man tormented by the shackles of an evil oath. If you're interested...?
Alright, stranger. The first thing you should know is that Sir Owen is not a wicked man. He's not holy or anything, just dutiful to a fault. One of the King's Guardsmen, Sir Owen was a man who never took an oath lightly and never broke his word. For him to break his word... why, it'd be like you or I reaching up and plucking the moon from the sky.
Sir Owen frequently aided the City Guard in rooting out demonist cults at the King's request, and noone was a fiercer enemy of the black arts than he. For ten years, he protected this city from insurections and invasions, facing horrors that would turn a normal man's hair white. But, for each cult he shattered, another sprung up. It was as if the tide would never turn.
Then, one day, Sir Owen and a unit of hardy veterans broke into the private quarters of one of this city's noblemen, to find a Demon Lord sitting there in all his wickedness, waiting for them. At the Demon Lord's side, a great steel cage, drapped with black satin.
The battle was fierce and every strike that the Demon Lord landed was returned tenfold. But it was not enough. One by one, Owen's men died around him, until only he was left. Arms broken, bleeding from a dozen wounds, Sir Owen waited for his end with an unwavering glare of defiance. But the final blow was never struck.
Instead, the Demon Lord said that he had been watching Sir Owen for some time. That he respected Sir Owen as an adversary, and that he would strike a bargin with the mortal. Pulling the satin from the cage, the Demon Lord revealed Sir Owen's wife and children, held in thrall by the Demon's foul magics.
Sir Owen, the Demon said, must die. His family, in turn, would suffer for an age and a half, never to know peace until death finally claimed them. The city would be razed by an infernal host, its people put to the sword or claimed to satiate the dark hungers of the Demon Lord's minions. But, the infernal Lord explained, all that might be avoided.
There was no need for such destruction, the Demon coaxed. Sir Owen had the power to prevent the whole catastrophe. And all that it would take was a word. A simple pledge of loyalty. The Demon Lord did not want bloodshed or revenge for his broken cults- he wanted a protegee.
But he could not MAKE Sir Owen obey him. And so, he presented Sir Owen with the choice: Save your family, country, and King by pledging everlasting servitude. Or, refuse him, and by refusing, doom all that he loved.
And, with a word, Sir Owen made his choice.
The Demon etched the terms of their contract onto Sir Owen's very sword, as a constant reminder of what he must do, and returned to the fiery netherworld with a subtle smile. From that day on, Sir Owen's word compelled him to do the evil wishes of his Master. There was no magical compulsion or threat of punishment- but as I have said, Sir Owen could no more break his word than he could grow a third arm.
Thirty years have passed since that day. Sir Owen's wife has passed on, his children have grown, his country has largely forgotten the terrible duty he took on to protect it. Yet, in thirty years of acting on behalf of that Demon Lord, never once has Sir Owen killed a single man he did not have to. He obeys the letter of his oath, but he has never accepted the spirt of it.
Those few of us who still remember the Sir Owen of old look on him now with pity. Pity that stays our swords and keeps us from giving him that release that he has surely earned. And that is why I say it is a shame that you did not kill him before, when you thought him a mere villainous dark knight. Because...
Because, in thirty years, Sir Owen has not aged even a single day. Unless he is killed, his service to that Demon Lord will last until the end of time. And a man like Sir Owen does not deserve that.
Sir Owen is something of a local legend, around here. Very tragic, really. A good man tormented by the shackles of an evil oath. If you're interested...?
Alright, stranger. The first thing you should know is that Sir Owen is not a wicked man. He's not holy or anything, just dutiful to a fault. One of the King's Guardsmen, Sir Owen was a man who never took an oath lightly and never broke his word. For him to break his word... why, it'd be like you or I reaching up and plucking the moon from the sky.
Sir Owen frequently aided the City Guard in rooting out demonist cults at the King's request, and noone was a fiercer enemy of the black arts than he. For ten years, he protected this city from insurections and invasions, facing horrors that would turn a normal man's hair white. But, for each cult he shattered, another sprung up. It was as if the tide would never turn.
Then, one day, Sir Owen and a unit of hardy veterans broke into the private quarters of one of this city's noblemen, to find a Demon Lord sitting there in all his wickedness, waiting for them. At the Demon Lord's side, a great steel cage, drapped with black satin.
The battle was fierce and every strike that the Demon Lord landed was returned tenfold. But it was not enough. One by one, Owen's men died around him, until only he was left. Arms broken, bleeding from a dozen wounds, Sir Owen waited for his end with an unwavering glare of defiance. But the final blow was never struck.
Instead, the Demon Lord said that he had been watching Sir Owen for some time. That he respected Sir Owen as an adversary, and that he would strike a bargin with the mortal. Pulling the satin from the cage, the Demon Lord revealed Sir Owen's wife and children, held in thrall by the Demon's foul magics.
Sir Owen, the Demon said, must die. His family, in turn, would suffer for an age and a half, never to know peace until death finally claimed them. The city would be razed by an infernal host, its people put to the sword or claimed to satiate the dark hungers of the Demon Lord's minions. But, the infernal Lord explained, all that might be avoided.
There was no need for such destruction, the Demon coaxed. Sir Owen had the power to prevent the whole catastrophe. And all that it would take was a word. A simple pledge of loyalty. The Demon Lord did not want bloodshed or revenge for his broken cults- he wanted a protegee.
But he could not MAKE Sir Owen obey him. And so, he presented Sir Owen with the choice: Save your family, country, and King by pledging everlasting servitude. Or, refuse him, and by refusing, doom all that he loved.
And, with a word, Sir Owen made his choice.
The Demon etched the terms of their contract onto Sir Owen's very sword, as a constant reminder of what he must do, and returned to the fiery netherworld with a subtle smile. From that day on, Sir Owen's word compelled him to do the evil wishes of his Master. There was no magical compulsion or threat of punishment- but as I have said, Sir Owen could no more break his word than he could grow a third arm.
Thirty years have passed since that day. Sir Owen's wife has passed on, his children have grown, his country has largely forgotten the terrible duty he took on to protect it. Yet, in thirty years of acting on behalf of that Demon Lord, never once has Sir Owen killed a single man he did not have to. He obeys the letter of his oath, but he has never accepted the spirt of it.
Those few of us who still remember the Sir Owen of old look on him now with pity. Pity that stays our swords and keeps us from giving him that release that he has surely earned. And that is why I say it is a shame that you did not kill him before, when you thought him a mere villainous dark knight. Because...
Because, in thirty years, Sir Owen has not aged even a single day. Unless he is killed, his service to that Demon Lord will last until the end of time. And a man like Sir Owen does not deserve that.
posted by Jonc0re at
9:38 PM
2 Comments:
Very cool.
Too bad Sir Own didn't take a class on Catholic moral theology. ;)
Of course, that makes the demon lord that much more demonic - his aim is the corruption of good souls, rather than death & destruction. Truly evil, rather than merely destructive.
By
Nick, at 1:00 PM
Yes, there was a definite aim toward the more traditional Christian demon than the fantasy types- not working toward chaos so much as corrupting the good and the holy.
By
Jonc0re, at 2:07 PM
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