Kain Redwell

Kain Redwell was born to Samuel and Katherine Redwell in a small fishing village west of Sida, where the land between mountain and sea is narrowest. The village was a hideaway, largely, and held no name for that very purpose. Those who retreated to its grounds were, most often, accomplished people who felt it was their time to settle down and make peace with the world. People came here to start anew and focus on enjoying the prospects of life, love, and family. To think that this haven was the cradle of a child that would one day rock and forever have challenged the foundations of Aeria.

It was three and a half years since the child's birth that the fateful day came. Kain's soft, jet black hair had begun to coat his head. His face was round and pale, and his eyes were a gentle chestnut. He was somewhat thin and small for a child of his age, a runt like any other, and most of the village doubted his survival past his fifth birthday. Still, Katherine and Samuel cared for him and held faith in him. To this day, though he lacks memories of either parent, Samuel and Kathrine bestowed upon Kain a gift he would keep deep in his heart- the gifty of undying faith and will persevere. This was the only true gift that they would leave him, for on that day, the demons of Sin attacked an unprepared fishing village, intent on pillaging, corrupting, and converting, until the last home had been robbed, the last beam broken, and the last soul stolen. Most were lucky to die, to have their souls set free immediately. Kain's parents took their own lives when they felt themselves outmatched. Through the last of their life force, they summoned a shield to protect young Kain, and moments after, met their demise, speared through their guts by the hands of a demon.

The safety of the shield, though long lasting, eventually shattered under the combined strength of the demon legions. Scared and confused, the child could only cry and call for parents that were no more. Then, one in particular approached him, a demon that seemed to lead the others. He reached down, and began to chant, setting a palm on Kain's chest. Kain felt him, at first, to be strong, but somehow, the simple, single-minded willpower of a child was enough, perhaps more than enough to resist the temptations of darkness. In the flames of the town, during the struggle between a mortal 'nothing' and a demonic bringer of death, the child could only whimper as he was tossed aside, forgotten. The demon returned to work, oversee the conversions, and ordering executions for those who couldn't be converted. Young Kain lay helpless, his efforts to resist merely slowing the spreading corruption already seeded into his soul. Meanwhile, dozens of crescent silhouettes lined the ridges overlooking the village. They gathered together on the nearest cliff and, without sound a sound, descended on it.

Update 07-10-09

They were swift and nigh invisible in the darkness, like blades of wind cutting through the air. Demons fell to pieces before any of the legion realized what was happening. Their magic defenses could not hold against the strange crescent shapes dancing through the village. Some were even enveloped by fire and burned to dust. Kain's vision was getting dark, his eyes were now past their limit, and his consciousness was beyond strained. Still, he struggled to stay awake and alive. As the monsters among him were slowly hacked, burned or banished, the dancing blades moved nearer and nearer, until their weapons gleamed in the flames of the building. Kain was at the end of his will... he fell unconscious.

In the day, the flames had settled. The small village was a smoldering cluster of ash, and in its ruins stood a memorial for all the lives lost. Kain saw this much from the side of an open window in one of the few buildings left standing, a nursing ground for the wounded. His vision now tinted with a hint of gold. There were two men standing before him, holding a hushed conversation over the child's fate. One was the village elder, wrapped in bandages and supported by a walking stick and the side of the building. The other was a man unlike any Kain had seen before; he carried two crescent-shaped blades on his back, each as big as the man himself, and wore little to no armor beneath a simple cloak.

'Demon Hunter.'

It was the first time Kain would hear the term, but most certainly not the last. The intimidating man was talking about strange things. Training? Going away? He was going away? That's what it seemed like. Somewhere up into the mountains, they said. 'Clan Grounds.' The man wouldn't specify, and next to his terrifying form, the vagueness of his words frightened Kain even more. He didn't want to go, to leave his home, or his parents. Why they were here to take him away, he didn't know, Kain just wished that they weren't. But as quickly as the day had come, so did it end, with Kain aboard a caravan. He could do nothing to resist, his spirit seemed all but drained. As dawn approached, they came upon the mountain hideaway, covered in a strange purple mist, and despite the foreign settings, its beauty and mystique seemed to calm him. Whatever it was, something had lifted his soul of its burdens. But it was only temporary. In the years following, Kain would be subjected to those fears in ways far beyond his worst nightmares.

Update 07-10-09

Six months were all he was given to learn the basics. They said his father had been good enough, he should have been so, as well. It didn't seem fair... he hardly knew his father for things like that. The man that had fed and changed him, taught him where to go and where to stay, was now gone, and Kain hardly knew enough to follow in his father's footsteps. Yet, somehow, these people expected him to innately know the way. He couldn't reject them, though, he hardly even knew how. Running would get him nowhere.. he'd already tried. They would just stop him, scoop him up, and return him. It almost became a game to them. Eventually, Kain forfeited. He would play by their rules, for now.

Finally, his lessons began. Magic, they said, would become his life. Not weaving, whatever that was, but magic, energy, life, and the flow of all things. His life depended on it, they said, and if he failed, he would not live to see a second chance. Kain could scarcely hold back tears of fright, but there was little he could do to say no. He was taken to a shrine each day, and stripped of all his senses, and he would sit there and wait in silence without food, water, or rest, for hours, until his young body could not take it. They would do this to him each day until he could 'feel the flow,' they said. The shrine was a natural source of pure, unmanifested magic, 'positive energy.' It enriched all things around it, but only those sensitive to magic could truly feel its distinct presence.

Day after day, young Kain was taken to the limits of his body, until after an entire month, the first disruption of the flow was felt. One of the nearby masters felt a fluctuation, a stray bit of energy, and had run over to see the cause. Nothing was different, save for the young boy sitting in the center of the shrine, smiling, like he knew something no one else did. It had been the first time Kain smiled in weeks.

For five more months, Kain would train and gain a better grasp on this flow of energy, until he could choose what part of the flow he wanted to move, and successfully move it the way he would want it to go. Training days became shorter, and meals would come more often. The taste of success was very satisfying. But it was short-lived, as most good things are. A few days after he had learned the very basics and was cheerfully devouring a small meal, two Demon Hunters came and carried him away. They said he'd best finish his meal before they arrived, for he would need it. Kain did as told...

The stairway to a dimly lit cellar greeted the four year old. Step by step, they descended into the depths of darkness. Kain had thought he heard whisperings from the walls, but he would soon learn the truth was much worse. As they traveled deeper, the whispers became groans, shrieks, and howls. Something evil presided here. After Kain was set down, he finished the last of his meal, and shortly after, his Master and mentor arrived. Kain had done well, he said, but this would be the ultimate test, the factor that would decide if Kain could ever be a true Demon Hunter. This would be the test that would earn him the right to learn their secrets. He wasn't sure if he should have felt honored or scared. Regretfully, he settled for both.

Update 04-18-10

At the bottom of the cellar was a long, narrow path with bars lining its sides, to a metal cage. Kain was led to, and placed in, this cage, and locked there to prevent him from escaping in cowardice. Almost immediately, the boy caught on to a more sinister flow of energy emanating from the corners of the room. As his escorts backed away, the dark forces surrounding the edges of the other side slowly crept up. Their yes glowed red, green, or gold, and illuminated the jagged features just around their faces. They were impish creatures, and they delighted in circling the boy's cage.

While the properties of the cage prevented them from getting what they wanted, at all times, they would attempt to seep into the child's soul and steal what they could, and this often led to agony and a near-constant struggle for power. When the screams seemed to grow too loud, a caretaker would enter and tend to Kain, while another escort pushed the demons back. This happened several times a day, every day, for the next year, and with each incremental success, Kain seemed a little less alive, despite his age.

By the end of the year, Kain no longer needed his cage. He would stand in the demons' cage and keep them at bay, or push them back, returning every ounce of pain they had caused him, until the day came that he finally managed them all through sheer manipulation of magic.

Word reached the Master, and he called Kain back out of the cellar. His eyes had grown huge and his skin had become pale. His body lacked nourishment, as Kain had been growing skinnier the entire time. The next six months were spent simply feeding and rehabilitating the boy as he continued to practice on his own, of his own free will, a seething hatred for demons building up in his small being. The time in the cellar gave him plenty of freedom to think about the death of his parents and the attack on the village, and the demonic presence didn't lessen these thoughts.

When he turned five, Kain was led to a great bonfire on the sun altar. The other clansmen led him through rites of firebinding to the diety Kossuth, customary to demon hunters. Kain was placed in the bonfire, on the altar. Though nervous, he wasn't scared, simply determined; his hate continued to motivate him. The fire burned him only for a split second, and then, to his surprise, it stopped. The flames consumed him, and yet, he felt no pain, only strength and warmth. Around the bonfire, clansmen chanted as the sun lined up with the spire of the bonfire and altar, and the flames vanished and the logs fell apart around the child. Candle flames extended from Kain's fingertips, a sign marking the completion of the blessing. Kain was now duty-bound.

The following three years held a focus on spellcraft and honing the flames of Kossuth. Kain couldn't begin proper training due to lacking physical strength. Thus, his Master continued to teach him magic and basic knowledge and skills. Kain learned quickly, as youth often do, from his Master, and from watching the others of the Clan. Though he had learned gratitude toward the outside world, and toward nature, he preferred to be alone and to observe others. Those his age rarely approached him, and he never approached them. His social introversion began leading to an unhealthy obsession in furthering himself, and his Masters noted this with concern.

When he turned eight, he and others his age were taken further up the mountains to a more wild and secluded portion, with a few teachers. Here, their Masters taught them how to live off the land and nature, and survive against the wild. Three more years were devoted to this, as practice and hands-on experience were necessary. Somehow, forced to work with others for his survival, Kain's introversion began to crack and lessen. Yet, the personality that emerged was unruly and difficult. There was much resent and scorn to Kain, and his unfriendly behavior often led most of the other children to regard him with disdain. He became somewhat isolated, having few friends, most of them being his teachers.

By the time Kain was eleven, physical training had begun. At first, there were simple stretches and cardio-exercises, and then unarmed combat lessons. With age came strength and endurance training, weapons training, and further review of bodily control. This was where Kain began to stand out. Growth spurts had quickly turned him from a scrawny child to a growing young man. His boyish features began to disappear to the sharpening of his jaw and the shaping of his body. If he had lived as a common man, without the rigor of Hunter's ways, he could have been called handsome, but the fearsome look in his eyes just grew in intensity as he aged, and he instead became more intimidating.

He was seventeen when he'd been given his own crescent blade. Designed to cut through man, creature and demon alike, but specially designed to nullify magic, this blade signified the beginning of the completion of training. The mark of Kain's mastery would come when he returned with the head of a greater demon. Kain wasted no time, leaving the grounds of the mountain immediately. Most wondered where he, what he was doing, or when he'd come back. They never thought to imagine of what he would bring back with him.

Kain had wandered the darkest of places, searching for the most powerful warlocks he could find. It took months, but when he finally found one of enough power, he commissioned them to perform a summoning for him, and at first, the warlock refused, until Kain offered to pay him with the demon's soul. How then could the warlock refuse when offered the soul of an Archfiend? He gathered his servants and set to work. Kain, though he kept his anger in check, waited with a radiating hate over the course of a week as the warlock prepared for the summoning of the greater demon.

When the time came for the summoning, the seventeen year old faced the prospect of battle with an arrogance unfit for his age, because it was just too arrogant, even for an overconfident teenager. Regardless, he stood at the summoning circle of the beast, complete confidence in his ability to defeat it. The battle that followed carried on for weeks. The warlock himself was killed in the first day when the Archfiend had gotten hungry and tired, and his servants were hunted down slowly over the course of the first week.

Kain engaged the demon in a series of fights, retreating when he felt he'd inflicted enough damage, or when he'd taken too much. He had but one thing to rely on, and that was the fact that the demon was playing on Kain's field. Though his teachers at taught him much, Kain learned the most valuable of lessons in that very first and nigh-impossible encounter: Improvisation is key.

The final blow was struck from behind, but it was the preceding blow that had ended the long skirmish. Kain had delivered a payload of sticky ooze that hardened immediately upon coming in contact with the Archfiend's flames. It had been aimed at the demon's eyes, and thankfully, struck true. Though it was enraged, Kain managed to avoid it's aimless struggle and wild swinging, and found his way onto the creature's back. A few short steps and a swing of his blade, and the demon's head had come off. Kain spent yet another week simply lugging the monstrous head back home.

Along the way, he encountered a clearing, with a lone tree, and an aging Sage resting upon its gnarled roots. The Sage was accompanied by a crystalline blade, long, though most of it had been dug into the dirt. He regarded Kain with a strange familiarity. At last, you've arrived, spoke the Sage. He beckoned Kain over, and lifted the blade from its dirt. It's gemlike luster and gleam was hardly affected by the soil. He held it up to Kain, hilt first, and told him this was his to inherit. Kain took the blade, curious at first. The sage had begun making his way out of the clearing as Kain had taken it. His final words to Kain were "May you be the one to find the answer." Then, he was gone. Kain gave chase, but never managed to find him.

Puzzled, he returned to his home with both blade and demon's head, presenting only the latter. His Masters were in total shock. By the time word had spread throughout all the clan grounds, however, Kain had left once again. He had but the request to be acknowledged as a master himself, and be allowed to walk freely across Aeria, and without any fuss, his Master granted him his wish. With that, Kain had set out for the West, in search of answers and demons. Often, though, he only found the latter, and a chain of battles, bounties and odd jobs brought him to the fair gates of Surna near the heart of Talibar. Here, his legend truly began.

[To be continued.]

Given away:

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Demon Hunter's Warblade - Crescent-shaped, but with alternating curves, partially serrated with a handle fixed in the very center, the warblade can be detached to form two smaller swords. The blade is six feet long in diameter, making the swords three feet long from their center, hilts included. There are also smaller indentations along the blade of the sword, on the inner side, so the demon hunter can perform tight swings from other points of rotation, or firmly hold the blade close to them, as a defensive maneuver. When together, the blade nullifies all active magic that uses positive energy in a four foot radius of itself, and this field is stronger toward the center than the edges, of course. When separated, the circuit is incomplete, and the field is inactive, allowing the user to use magic freely, but also making them vulnerable to magical attacks. The blade is very tough, composed of Mithril, and reinforced by magic. It's somewhat wide, being eight inches wide at its very widest, and two and a half inches thick. It's rather heavy, but shaped so the center of gravity is directly upon the user, allowing for ease of mobility and swings. The blade is very rare, and few of its kind exist. They are hardly ever made, due to a lack of sufficient mithril, and most are passed down from one demon hunter to the next.

Surrendered to Numbers:

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Magic Obsidian Vestments - The original cloak was crafted by Kain himself, modeled after his old, ruined cloak, when he fought the reformed Phobia at the Black Pyramid of Sida shortly after the death of Prophet. The cloak is made of the same material the pyramid is. The density and hardness depends on how much magic is poured in, as is the weight. The hardness is also dependent on how the material is arranged on a quantum level. It can be hard, but fluid, or soft and fluid. It can become cushioned, yet dense, or rigid and solid, yet light. The material can even be moved dynamically to function as different limbs or perform other odd actions. Kain's least thought-consuming method of using this is through spawning tendrils from the cloak. Likewise, the material can be broken down to release or convert back into pure energy, but it requires skill, and the ability to manipulate pure magic. Use of this cloak requires no weaving, merely varied concentration, focus, and heightened and critical thinking. Kain has expanded this cloak to make up all of his apparel, in individual pieces.

Presently, the functionality has been restricted due to Kain's loss of abilities. He has, instead, worked the cloak to respond to his thoughts. While it can no longer perform complex functions and act as a practical weapon, the cloak can shift its form in simple manners very, very slowly. It maintains itself with a passive flow of energy, constantly aiming for one size and overall density.

This character possesses the knowledge to fundamentally recreate and mimic all magical and supernatural interactions from scratch.

He also no longer possesses his obsidian robes or any weapon whatsoever. His body is filled to the brim with magical power, but it is sealed away and cannot be accessed, except by cutting him up, and in that case, he still wouldn't be able to use it with his own abilities, though it would be available to others.

For the record, he also has the knowledge to recreate the 'obsidian' things he uses (which are really Truminum) but is now forbidden in doing so due to Truminum being far too risky to recreate and risk possession by others.

This character is also immortal and partially divine, due to the state of his soul. He is, of course, unable to directly use any of the advantages of this, except in the manner of constantly generating and, if his skin is pierced, giving off energy, and having agelessness. However, through his own research and development of Truminum, he's created a smaller form of living Truminum that acts as a complementary immune system, essentially providing the ultimate defense against diseases, poisons and other biological attacks, thus offering a nigh perfect state of health. It's ability to function is subject to magical harm and intervention, but has no biological weaknesses.

In addition, this character has been blessed by Kossuth, meaning that flames around him will become holy and purifying, and any sort of heat-based damage, magical or not, will not harm him. This does not make him immune to explosive force or anything, simply any heat or burn associated with it. Even lava and magma will not harm him, except if it were to run over him at a high speed, thus crushing him (and not melting him as one would expect).

Finally, Kain's soul is o longer the center of the Way Matrix, but is still compatible with it.