Lord of Nightmares and Undeath
Low Immortal
Ciarnyx, Lord of Undeath and Nightmares began as a human priest of Sephter. Serving loyally for many years, Ciarnyx excelled at helping families grieve the passing of their loved ones and understanding the circle of life and death as it pertained to the Aether in everyone’s souls.
This was until his own love fell ill. Ciarnyx called out to his patron, wishing Sephter to stave off his wife Alianna’s impending death. Sephter did appear to his devoted acolyte, explaining that all things must return to the Aether when it is their time.
Ciarnyx was enraged. He began seeking any remedies to cure the affliction affecting his wife. He turned to dangerous blood magic and then necromancy. Discovering a dark and dangerous ritual tied to the immortality and healing of vampires, he sought out any of the powerful undead he could find.
His search led him to a vampire named Razul Nightbloom, the proclaimed Elder, or original vampire. Razul granted Ciarnyx’s request, turning the priest’s wife into a vampire on the promise of servitude.
Alianna at first appeared to get better, but the horror of condition rendered her inconsolable. Ciarnyx faced losing her again as a kind of madness took over. Alianna’s body was healed, and her soul safe from returning to Sephter’s realm, but her mind became fractured. The devout woman couldn’t face an immortality away from the Immortal she had served faithfully in life.
One day, Ciarnyx returned home from helping a family with the last rites of a loved one to find a pile of ashes on the doorstep, and a note on the table. The letter was from Alianna.
“My dearest Ciarnyx,
Please know that I do not make this decision easily. I love you to the depths of my soul, but what I have become is an abomination. We are not meant to live forever in this state of undeath. I will await you on the other side my darling.
All of my love,
Alianna”
Something broke in Ciarnyx that day as he gathered the ashes of his wife and put them into an urn along with the note. He descended to the basement room where she had been sheltering from the burning rays of Solahl, the enemy of unprotected undead. Pulling books and reagents from the shelves and chests he kept there, out of sight of any who may visit him for his role as a Priest of Sephter, he began arranging items for a ritual.
Reaching into the outer plane where a soul’s Aether would retreat upon their final death, he attempted to call back his wife. What he reached was a swirling maelstrom of Aether, a veritable whirlpool of malevolent souls refusing to rejoin the Aether and be reborn. This flood of Aether and soul energy flooded into him, seeking a release from their limbo.
As the Aether flooded into his body, so did the torn and fractured memories of these souls. Images of torture and pain ripped through his consciousness as he screamed. Soon, a blackness overtook him and he slept.
Ciarnyx awoke several days later to the sound of footsteps above him in his house. A voice called his name, a farmer on the outskirts of the village he recognized the voice of. Pulling himself to his feet, he could feel the swirl of souls within, but he also could feel the farmer upstairs. He instantly knew the man’s greatest fear, it matched one he felt at one time. The man’s wife and child were ill and the farmer sought Ciarnyx’s healing magic.
Climbing the stairs to the main level, Ciarnyx greeted the man as he always did those seeking his help, but inside, the voices of the lost souls screamed. After hearing the farmer’s request, Ciarnyx smiled. “Yes, I can save your family.”
He followed the farmer to the little house next to their fields. When he entered the house, Ciarnyx could feel the aura of death already spreading and knew his magics would not stop Sephter from claiming the inhabitants. As he grew accustomed to his heightened senses, Ciarnyx could feel the growing infection in the farmer as well, knowing he would soon succumb to the sickness as well.
“Do you trust me?” Ciarnyx asked, laying a hang on the farmer’s shoulder. When the man nodded emphatically, Ciarnyx unleashed the magic of the souls trapped within him. The farmer screamed with visions as he and his family were changed into undeath, bound to his commands.
Soon, Ciarnyx converted the entire village into undead servants, his power growing with each torturous change he inflicted, taunting his victims with their deepest fears as they changed. Ciarnyx knew Sephter would come for him, so he fled, consolidating his power and waiting.
He found his opportunity to secure more power when a group of elves broke away from the main settlement, seeking a reprieve from the decades long war against the Orcs to the north. He tortured their leaders with nightmares, showing them they were abandoned by the other immortals, especially their beloved Solahl and the Green Mother Tessahl. When the leaders of this community cried out for assistance and guidance, Ciarnyx presented himself as their savior.
They didn’t realize their mistake until it was too late. When Bodvarrk broke the world with his hammering of the Anvil of Creation, Ciarnyx enshrouded his new devotees in shadow, surrounding them with nightmares and undeath. These elves would eventually be changed, becoming the Pale Elves from the shadowed Plateau of Ciarnyx.
Though secure in his status as a low immortal, Ciarnyx vows to someday usurp Sephter and rule over both the undead and the cycle of death and rebirth.
