[hider= Cucaniensis] Name: Abbot Cucaniensis, Cocaigne, Luilekker Type: Scion Myth A young man from Marleon stood over the freshly dug grave of his father. His hands tightly grasped a rusty key as he contemplated his life. His father once lived as an important and honorable man, but he died in a backwater woodlands from a common ailment. He had nothing left. The traitor had taken everything from his family, or at least almost everything. He picked up a shovel from nearby and moved to behind his log cabin. A part of him knew he should just leave it buried, but he no longer had any choice. One of his ancestors had gathered occult items concerning one of the black god's servants. They were well-hidden, few people in the family even knew of their existence. The reasons why they were collected where lost to history, but he knew his father needed to flee with it after his fall from grace or else give credence to the liars. He pulled the wooden chest from the ground, and fidgeted the key in the lock until it opened. He picked up a few scrolls. They were correspondence from a warrior of Paterdomus to some unknown person during one of the campaigns into orc land. He had read them before but he felt it prudent to remind himself of what happened. This was the first recorded encounter with it. The first read in old common, "Morale was low and there was talk of retreat after one mere attack against our supply line. However, an abbot by the name of Cucaniensis has arrived with supplies of water and bread. He has also began to preach about how must continue to fight against the darkness and that our efforts will not be in vain. This must surely be a sign of the exalted one's hand ushering us forward to victory." There were presumably more sent, however only four were recovered. The next read, "We caught a young man attempting to desert. The punishment for desertion is severe, however Cucaniensis convinced me that we should not allow him to die in dishonor and grant him a chance of redemption. His sacrifice will not be forgotten." The next one was written in sloppier hand-writing than the previous two, "I have discovered the reason behind our failure. Traitors are in our midst. How else could stupid orcs so quickly identity our supply routes and preempt our attacks. Cucaniensis has told me about a group who are planning desertion. I believe he is too naïve and trusting to see their true agenda." The next was distressing short and barely legible, "They are all traitors." Placing the scrolls back, he turned his attention to a supposed portrait of the fell sorcerer. The dark one appeared so normal, as it had an inviting smile and was fair-headed. He heard that some demons had red or black eyes, but this one's were a soft blue. He had also heard that this artist had taken to making far less pleasant pieces. Trying to dispel the mental imagines from his mind, he moved on to another document. A report of a scaled man who breathed fire. At this point, he was only half paying attention but he knew that this was the end result of an encounter with the demon. Something he noted was that he had bled a black, oily substance. He was curious what was offered to the victim. Finally, he pulled out a old servant's bell and a dusty book. It told of the evil's powers, of note was its power to drain people of abstract concepts and grant them to another person, even their luck. The book detailed a way to bind the demon to serve whoever carried the bell. It was how it was originally defeated, but the magic in the bell has faded. It was a stupid idea, but he had nothing left. Everything had already been taken from his him. He had nothing left to lose. The last reagent he needed to recover everything he had lost was the heart of an evil man. [/hider]