Well, as you already know (After all, you read until here) I'm Odo. Instead of holding a boring soliloquy on the strengths and weaknesses of my people, take this book and read its Appendum. For those of you who know the Drow from Faerun, just paint'em pink, cut off the tips of their ears and kick that Lloth-creep, Queen of all things ugly and hairy, in the ass... Oh, you dislike that kind of speech, well, try show her the door. I guess, you get the picture. By the way, I do indeed doubt our gods are any better than the Drow's, but they are at least our gods.
Already fed up with us, or with me in particular? Good. Lets get on with this. (Aside: When I get my hands on Jadawin, I'll tell him what I think of this page...)
You may rest assured (as sure as you can be with a Duranaki) that I have parted from the ways of my people. Neither do I kill anybody angering me (just a selected few), nor do I hate any outsiders. I simply don't like other people. My only friends are these other five adventurers creeping around here somewhere, always searching for a snack (liquid or not).
Should it be of any interest to you, I'll tell you something of my life (and my friends will make certain that I don't skip any important parts or just clam up)
For those not interested click here to return to main page (after all, I popped the question... :)
I was born fifty years ago as the first son (but fourth child) of a noble whose name I will not speak. My upbringing was as typical as it could be for a Duranaki. I learned anything on intrigue, guile, treason, assassination and hate, and I loved it.
Before I was fourteen years old, I had already killed a handful of enemies. Two of them wanted to kill me first: My elder sister Jessa saw me as a threat to her position as most likely candidate for the Academy. So she tried to kill me with a binary poison.
For those living in ignorance of binary poisons:
Anyway, our spymaster, Arakasi, had lectured me thoroughly on poisons. I identified the components (but I have to admit that it was only by chance - I fed the cat).
My sister's face was worth all effort, when I had her attacked by a flock of Viperhawks, which I bought especially for my revenge. After this incident, I was the prime candidate for the Academy.
My other worthy rival (i.e. a fellow Duranaki) saw me as a cheap prize in a family feud. He tried to assassinate me on a party we both were invited to. This plot was really clever. Even for us, who we guard our secrets jealously and are always on the look for other's secrets, this intrigue was nearly perfect.
He started the evening with introducing a new drug to our festivity (something not at all unusual). During the night, he started adding higher and higher doses of Ansilius pollen. Finally the dosage reached a level, where most guests started attacking each other and everything else that moved. During that brawl, only he and a couple of his henchmen, who were not drugged that night, I was to face an unfortunate accident (or how would you call a knife in the back ..?) ... what a tragedy !
His planning was sound, but he didn't know that I could read his thoughts that evening. My powers are only weak, but I read enough to be careful and watch out. I 'borrowed' a ring of Wall Flip from my cousin, who was quite drunk at this time. He's only a second rate magician , if you ask me, but his items can come handy...
At the appropriate time I wall-flipped ... against Sejak's chest, sending him reeling backwards and over a railing, into a stone garden (twelve meters are quite a distance, if you land head-first). His 'friends', who thought me intoxicated and weak, looked shocked when I landed among them, weapon dripping of poison and ready to slay. They left. Subsequently, I sent some slaves to mop up Sejak's remains.
The three other kills were only slaves (as I thought of them, then) I killed in combat training. You know, Duranaki believe in real weapons for training purposes. Of course not for the Myri slaves, only for the Duranaki trainees.
As gratification for these last three kills, I was instructed in the ways of sex (love is a rather uncommon concept for us). These first sexual experiences I made with some of my sisters and a couple of Myri slaves (really pretty ones and of both sexes) and I greatly enjoyed it. This kind of instruction by family members or sex with close relatives is common for my people. Since all rich or noble families can and do purchase large amounts of contraceptive spells, potions or items, or are able to cast these spells intrinsically, there is really nothing to it. (GM Note: For those of you, who find this disgusting or offending, rest assured, that this facet of duranaki life is purely my own invention and is in no way part of the 'official' Duranaki background. I added this idea to explain the powerful carnal lusts, that drive Odo. Since Odo likes any gender, it adds some fun to most encounters...)
Since this day, I never skipped any opportunity to indulge my hunger for sex, or at least tried to. [Here Cyrion stomps on my foot to tell me to get on with the story. That earns him a friendly slap]
At the age of fourteen, I joined the ranks of the Academy of Mentalism. There I was educated in the Ways of Changing (you would call my profession Doppelganger). My final test of graduation was to change into a Wood Elf Ranger and infiltrate an elven camp. Unfortunately, I failed my Delusion tests after a week and became a Wood Elf, although with an amnesia. My people, as I came to call them, did help me a great lot in the following thirty-five years. I learned all about their ways and adopted their view of life as my own.
During a foray into the woods, I stumbled across a band of adventurers who were investigating some strange occurences. As it was my duty at that time, I joined them. We stumbled across an old temple, filled with garish constructs, monsters and other dangers (Note: A heavily modified version of the Temple of Cay in the Norek tm Adventure module.) Within the meditation chamber of this complex, with the help of Cay (whether intentional or not, I still try to find out) and an Amulet of Self Discipline, I was able to trigger a Reversion Spell and transformed into my old self again.
You can imagine the faces of my companions, when their Wood Elf Ranger friend started convulsing and screaming. His form melted into another, the dreadful form of a Duranaki, the physical manifestation of greed, hate and aggression! They were ready to attack. Again I dropped to the ground, this time laughing. Perplexed by this reaction, they halted their attack to question me on the fate of their ranger friend.
During this interrogation, which I started with typical duranaki derision, I realized that the long time as Wood Elf (longer than I have been a Duranaki) had profoundly changed me. It was like two different minds were flowing together into one new form. The calm, friendly elven side smoothed the harsh ridges of my duranaki education and created a counterweight for my violent duranaki desires for aggression.
My friends eventually came to trust me. After all, my former self was extremely ineffective as a Ranger (somehow, I didn't have the knack to be a ranger), and in a band of adventurers, abilities count more than race, at least on the long run.
I've been together with my friends for a long time, with an interlude of one year, where we went our own ways, to learn from teachers and life what we could.
During this time, I went to study the Martial Arts with a master at a small monastery, I heard about in a tavern.
This monk was said to be this generation's best fighter. Unbelieving and curious, I began my search of this strange and elusive character. After a week's ride, I arrived at an old ruin, where the abbey should have been. Loosing all hope (there wasn't much of it anyway( to find someone here, I made camp and tried to figure out, where to go next. About three hours before sunrise, an old man came to my fire, asking for a cup of coffee. We came to talk, and he introduced himself as Grand Master Yorinaga, the man I was searching for! Eh, big surprise, I thought. He agreed to prove his claim. The next thing I remember was the starlit sky and a searing pain in my left shoulder. I didn't even see him move ! Grudgingly I admitted some credibility to his claims. I agreed to stay to learn, for a fee, of course.
I was introduced in the arts of healing and harming, of mediation and fighting. Six months I trained hard and became a much better fighter than I had imagined (just the usual story, you might say...).
A week after I left, I came across a group of bandits ambushing a coach. I tried to help; maybe I could get some money out of the situation (which I was quite short on).
During the fight, I was kicked in the head by a panicking horse and lost consciousness. A Layhealer, which was fortunately on this coach, had the greatest difficulties healing me. He later told me that he nearly lost me five times, more often than any other patient in the last two decades. He told me to see a cleric, since he was certain that I had a curse placed upon me. Although I believe clerics to be overblown magic users, who cloak their magic with unnecessary mumbo-jumbo, I went to see one in the next village, I came through. After a 'donation to the church of Varja', he used a Detect Curse spell, grew pale and threw me out.
Well, I dislike being crossed, by anybody. So I waited for the cleric until he left the inn. He was in for a surprise. A few well paced remarks on the torture techniques of the Duranaki Torture Masters made him very cooperative. He admitted to have not only cast a Detect Curse but a Curse Tale spell as well (due to the generous donation I made). The curse he detected is called the Necromantic Urge. The Curse Tale revealed me as the creator of this curse! Since only very evil persons would undertake such an endeavour and my aura showed significant traces of evil (I am Duranaki after all), he feared I wanted to trick him into something (whatever that was). So he threw me out. The strange thing about this story was that I had never even heard of that curse!
Further investigation and a lot of my money indicated that someone else had staged the ritual for me, provided the components and the formula. That only left one person: Yorinaga !
Enraged and full of revenge, I travelled back to the ruin, only to find Yorinaga sitting where I left him. He smiled, greeted me and inquired on my health. Filled with fury, I attacked, only to be humiliated as I had never been shamed before. I never even touched him and he nearly killed me. After I regained consciousness, he told me of his life.
He really was the master I had been searching for, but he was alive no longer. Four years ago he was poisoned by a rival. The poison proved to strong for any remedy available. Already in his death throes, a man approached him, offering him his life in return for a small service. Agonized and devoid of hope, he agreed. The man performed a ritual and the poison lost its grip on Yorinaga. He could rise and walk around ! Overjoyous, he wanted to thank his saviour. This man held up a symbol and cast a spell on Yorinaga. The agony that seared through his body was even worse than the poison.
The man identified himself as the Blood Lord of Souls (C&T III), the master of all vampires!
The service he then required was the training of thirteen promising martial artists. A training which included the Necromantic Urge curse and a Geas, placed upon the unknowing victims. This should insure that the martial artists would come to their master, when they transformed into Monastic Liches.
Until now, I was the only one who had found out about this curse and still lived. Four others had already succumbed to the curse. He was under a spell which forced him to hide his situation from his trainees, but once freed from his obligation to train me, he could tell me everything. He gave me a list of eight other names. All these fighters had been trained by him. He left the decision whether I wanted to find the men and women on this list and help them, or not. Troubled and uneasy with the decision I had to make, I left my 'master'.
Three weeks later I met my friends at the Reann Hotel in Norek.
After a joyous reunion, we continued our path together, to more riches, to more fights and to more wisdom.
Until now, I have not told my friends about my curse and the list of names. I do not feel ready to involve them into my struggle and my fears.
Each night I pray for the wisdom, what to do. My opponent, the Blood Lord, is a terrible enemy and at this point, I can not allow my friends to encounter him, for they would surely die. Torn between my duty to protect my friends and to save these unknown fighters from their doom, I try to come to terms with myself. When I finally have decided to tell my friends everything, I will breathe much easier, even if breathing my last breaths.
That's it for now, but I'll be back"
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