The Cursed Assassin

Long ago, in the lands of Crying Heavens, there was a great evil wizard known as Mortis Nuntius, the mad wizard for which the Nuntius staff was named. A charismatically evil leader who lined the pockets of his allies with gold. A man who would not conquer by pure brutality, but with a blood-stained olive branch. Twas simple, work for him, become his servant, live a life of luxury and paradise, or face him, and die and be mutilated over and over again. Were you lucky enough, you could be praised a hero for such a thing, but if you failed, terrible terrible things would befall you. This is a tale of such a story. Once upon a time, there was an honorable masked assassin named Andronious. Considered one of the most skilled assassins in Crying Heavens along with his partner in arms Brude of Blood. The assassin life was simple, find clients, create contracts, fulfill contracts, and absolutely obliterate anyone who breaks a contract. He had the right to refuse, but when a contract was signed it was law and bound. He would be paid, then all would be said and done. The assassin was contracted by Mortis many a time, on the accord that his soul would still be his, and unlike many others, Mortis accepted those terms. Evil as Mortis was, he followed the laws he was bound to. Though one day the assassin had a contract he had to turn down, one far too heinous even for him. Mortis was preparing something big. Something far more sinister than his usual antics. Many of his armies gathered that day, most of their eyes glazed by the prize of gold, delicious meals, lustful desires. As he would prepare his ritual, yet again Mortis approached the assassin, his great army behind him and asked, “Would you join me today Andronious, I am willing to pay extra” he said as a small baby was laid on the ground, a blood red reverse pentagram under them. Something dark was going to happen, something inexcusable. The assassin turned from his offer. “No. This is too far.” And he walked away, joining what few would stand up to the atrocities. Seven to Thirty-Two. A wildly uneven battle. The large force of evil gathered was intense, not merely mindless hounds, but fierce and seasoned warriors. All protecting a single source. A wizard, and a baby. The ritual had begun. The assassin and few heroes that stood against this relentless force were well armed and powerful to their own right, but as the battle began it was clear their object was unachievable. So quickly and brutally were they annihilated to be reincarnated was only a small sign of how dark this future was going to become. They had to strategize something to stop this ritual. Anything. One idea formed. A dark one from the one assassin left to try. The assassin asked his comrades to give one final yell and charge and spread out, a distraction to avert from his own actions. He had to try. It was the only way. A sacrifice to his own very soul to attempt to avert the crisis in front of him. The heroes charged as ordered while the assassin stealthily teleported through the enemy lines, a dark presence wrapped around his hands, one familiar to all assassins at the time. As the stealth faded, he had arrived to his goal. Two great armed swordsman, the evil wizard Mortis Nuntius, and the baby. He would not be able to kill them all. He Leapt. Sword in hand, he jumped as far as his body would allow him, as the swords above him pierced into his back, through his armor, he let go of the blade and his sanity and held onto the baby with his final words. “Touch of Death…. Assassinate.” In the dead eyes of the assassin, he did what he thought he had to do. He would prevent the ritual not by killing the wizard, he’d just come back. He would kill the baby and sever its soul, so that it could not be used for whatever nefarious reason the wizard needed. In his mind, this was the only answer to such hopeless odds… This was the assassin’s greatest mistake. The evil wizard looked at great surprise to the dead assassin. And Laughed. Laughed Maniacally as he ordered a healer to resurrect him. “Andronious. HAHA Andronious the Baby Killer. You stupid stupid fool. Thank you” He said as the light returned to the assassins widened eyes, seeing the dark magic form around the babys circle. Blood red runes lighting up as the fields began to darken in unfound forbidden power. “I needed to sever the babys soul to complete the ritual, but I was not allowed to. Thank you Oh great assassin Andronious, you are the one who brought the honor of 1000 years of darkness to this land. You completed the ritual. Good work.” He clapped his hands in excitement as everything turned black. Darkness had taken this land, and the assassins soul. There was no returning from this. No matter the intention, no matter the honor, two great sins had been created in the assassin that would change him forever. Bringing 1000 years of darkness to the land, but more importantly, he was branded “Andronious, The Baby Killer.” In his feeble attempt to save the world, he doomed it, and as such became a mindless servant of Mortis Nuntius. Twas better to serve someone who would use you then the rest of the heroes who would forever mock and desert you. There was no respite in his actions, no benevolence, no light. He had only one job from hence forth. To kill. To serve. Corruption took over him, and thus his days were numbered from henceforth. He was cursed, in a way very few would ever be. By his own will, his own mistake. No one knows what has happened to this assassin since. Some say he still wanders the land creating graves in unknown places. Some say he’s used as a bedtime story to keep children in line and make sure they behave or the baby killer may come give them a visit. Some say there is still a spark of hope left in him however small, and that one day he may be redeemed. But we may never truly know the fate of this soul. The soul of the cursed assassin.

Summary

The wizard Mortis Nuntius searched for more power by way of bribery, treachery, charisma, and death. He would kill all heroes that would try to oppose them and then resummon them as undead minions or manipulated. This is what happened with Andronious, an honorable assassin who wanted to live a simple life and whose relation was complicated with Mortis, having been contracted before until this final one that was denied by him. Mortis’ ambition was growing to the point that morality no longer mattered to him in the long run and finally he had prepared a final ritual, one that would establish him as the dark lord of this land and bring about 1000 years of darkness. And all that needed to be done was sacrificing one innocent babe. A large battle ensued with the heroes vastly outnumbered, even with Andronious helping there seemed to be no end to Mortis’ undying army. That is when, in a last ditch effort of hope, the honorable assassin attempted to stop the ritual by killing its sacrifice before it was ready for the sake of all. In reality this is what Mortis needed. The ritual was now complete and the lands of the Crying Heavens was ravaged by Mortis and his ilk. The heroes fled, Andronious taken by grief and corruption was cursed to wander the lands forever. And so this was the end of the Crying Heavens.