squishys-stories

[squishys-stories]

This is the first of Dismon’s journal entries. (Each segment of these will represent a session, a fun little writing project to help me get more into character.)

Lunadi 9th, 2149 AC;

I was warped to the material plane only today, and I’m already covered in twigs and leaves. I know the group will be passing through here, but this is ridiculous. The goblin died today, it was the Lord’s will, and I’m sure she’s being used as a chaotic jester. The gnoll looks worse for wear, but I’m sure she’ll perk up once the tournament happens.

After an hour or so, they came through here, I grabbed the Goblin’s gem before Yrgna could burn it along with the cloak the Lord made it. It’s a shame, that magic was pretty powerful. I’ll watch over her for tonight, and attempt to make contact in the morning.

Lunadi 10th, 2149 AC; I made successful contact, after Douglas caught me in a simple entangle spell, though I suppose it was for the best. They led me to the rest of the party, and the fun began. Just dropping subtle hints of their adventures has begun to dig under their skins. Everything of mentions of family members, to recent activities and things I couldn’t possibly know. I’ll admit, it’s been a lot of fun, more fun than I’ve had in my 300 years of living. I also got to try something called a “Cake” today.  The cake was the best part, carrot cake seems to be my favorite, and is a large step from my normal meals and rations. I’ll keep this out of my “Official” Report. I’ve been assigned to Yrgna’s room. This wouldn’t be so awful if she wasn’t the one person I had to watch and take notes on. She’s already beginning to pry.   Lunadi 11th, 2149 AC; Today was uneventful, the group is awaiting the tournament, and they’re all doing their own things. I trailed Nissa for a while, but her and Soqorel were just look for a job. Yrgna drunk her sorrows away. I don’t understand why she is so upset over the Goblin’s death. Soqorel and Nissa got a bugbear named Lubo to sponsor the tournament with some prize. They hope it’ll be enough for the tournament owner to allow this fight to happen. 

They dragged me along, I had to cover for the other Bard and convince the man. Simple illusions and talk of grandeur was enough to spark his mind and give us a good time slot. Lunadi 12th, 2149 AC;

That tapestry the party acquired a few weeks ago is still rotting in the back of Metal’s cart. I have an idea of where to sell it, and I’ll make some Gold while I’m at it. I’m sure they won’t notice for a few days. Luckily, it was easy enough. I studied the tapestry for a few days, and it seemed ancient for things here. It was expertly made depicting some ancient sword. Metal’s new sword. I’ll have to sell this tonight, it’ll be easiest then. Lunadi 13th, 2149 AC;

A normal day, boring, Yrgna is still drinking, Metal continues to craft, and the other three either drink or work. Something needs to happen. Lunadi 14th, 2149 AC;

Boring. They’re all boring. The only enjoyment I’m getting is tormenting Soqorel, and even that is short lived. When will they notice, I wonder. I’ve been working on making my mage hand more corporeal, like the rogue I see here. They can lift things with greater ease and even pickpocket. It’s genuinely incredible to have that kind of magical gift, and I want it. It could prove invaluable. Lunadi 16th, 2149 AC;

Finally Metal noticed. I acted shocked and surprisingly, they all believed it had just been stolen. Soqorel also noticed it was in the crypt of the temple she was working in. They tried to decide whether to go after it or not, and my lord, they are some of the densest people I have ever had the displeasure of following. My mind travels to Soqorel, she seems the weakest mentally. She believes everyone readily, and is very emotional. When I went out with her to “investigate”, I acted surprised as we found the drag marks, bullied her some more, and desperately tried to explain she shouldn’t trust anyone. She’s still dense, but maybe she learned.

Tonight Yrgna came in much earlier than normal. She caught me changing and saw my scars. She seemed shocked, why? Do I not look like someone who can take a hit? We talked for a while and she pried harder than she has before. She asked about where I was from, who specifically gave me my scars, and other things. I stayed vague as always, but something deep in me leaked that I know someone on the material plane. I don’t want to see them, if I did, I don’t know what I’d do. A bubbling hate is deep within me, when I’m not supposed to feel at all. Why has my mind been changing like this? It never bothered me after the induction, and now suddenly I start to think about it. I will remain vague. These thoughts are temporary and I shouldn’t give them mind.    I’ve been studying the local wildlife, and trying wines. This place is both disgusting and curious. I like the creatures here.

[squishys-stories]

Dismon Fuelon’s Backstory

Before I begin writing this character’s reports and story, I suppose you should know where he came from, and what led him to this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Dismon’s life began like so many others. His parents; a cambion named Oriel Fuelon and a Tiefling named Victoria Fuelon, lived on a farm in the Abyss. The plane was nice and had plenty of abyssal denizens, and the two were happy with their son. Dismon grew up with the normal duties of a farm hand. Cleaning, training, and helping around the house were his daily duties, and he was content with his loving family. When he turned 7, his parents gave birth to a baby boy, who he cherished and acted as an ideal older brother to.

On the Abyssal Plane they lived on, a Balor, the Lord of Shadows, ruled in a rather backseated way, every generation or so, he would show up on people's doorstep. He warned of a disaster coming, one that only he could protect them from. He would request only one thing, the families first born child, or an able bodied demon to join his thrall. When Dismon’s parents were offered this protection, they instead bartered to be sent to the material plane. Dismon was only 10 at this point. His whole life, he had grown up being loved and cared for by his parents, he loved his little brother and had no control or power in any of this. He remembers the day clearly, the knock at the door, the hushed conversation, and the quick decision. His mother came to him and hugged him, telling him it would be okay, that she loved him, that he had to stay strong. She said one day he’d forgive her. He never understood any of this at the time, and was handed off to the Balor. He looked back to them, begging and crying for them to take him back as his parents turned away and, in a literal snap of the Balor’s fingers, popped from his sight. The training that came next , was simply torture. It was designed to break a new thrall’s spirit, wiper their mind of any thoughts of ever leaving or disobeying. It trained him to never disobey a higher demon or fiend, and if you did, he watched the consequences. The displays of disobedient thralls being tortured until they begged for death leaves an emotional mark on you. Dismon knew this mark well and stayed quiet and obedient. After years of this torture, the blank slates were sent to begin a new type of training. In this training, they learned physical prowess, dexterity, and knowledge (in limited amounts). They were kept dumb, but strong, fast, and flexible. Some thralls went to become servants, some went to serve in the Lord’s army, and a select few were chosen for specialized roles. 10 were chosen among Dismon’s group, all who ranged between 20-25. Their training began to get more specialized. This training involved everything from interrogating, to interrogations. His most apparent sign of that training is a large scar going down the center of his chest which never seemed to properly heal. Among that and many other small scars, he learned to be silent and conscious of his mind in every place. For those who weren’t magically inclined, the Lord gave them a pact, to give them just a sliver of his power. Dismon received a Scroll of Shadows and his training continued into the arcane. In the coming 20 years, Dismon sharpened his skills, and as other thralls fell, he and two other stood at the end. The final test was their first mission. They were to go to another plane in the Abyss, and secretly observe another Balor. One was killed when they were spotted by some of the guards, but Dismon and the other thrall escaped, both having come other with as much information as possible. Both of them were approved to become two new spies for the Lord. Dismon would have his years long training broken up with day long missions to different planes. His second mission brought him to the Olympian Glades of Arborea, where he had to observe and report on the activities of a Eladrin. This mission went without a hitch, and Dismon went back to training. The third plane he was sent to was they Feywilds. He was sent to spy on a hag who had a very specific recipe for a new potion. He needed to record the exact ingredients and amount that went into the potion. This also included the order, and steps to making this potion. He was almost caught, but his wits slimly got him out of the tight situation. Over the years, he was sent to a combination of these planes, mostly on trivial missions that were important in some way to the Lord. The fourth plane he got to visit was that of Soth, the Goddess of the moon and love. This plane ended up being what sparked something inside of Dismon. When he arrived on this plane, he glanced around to find something new, a Statue. For a moment he took it in, a small thought of “why?” came to him. He quickly moved along. The beautiful garden he had landed in was the central key to his mission. The was supposedly a Great Bard here. Dismon was only to follow and take notes on what exactly he was doing there. After wandering in the shadows, Dismon found his target and hide behind a shrub. In front of him stood his target, and a woman. Their backs were turned to him and he began to record what he saw. Their conversation went something like this; “My child,” the woman began, looking to her beloved follower, “You mean you have lost inspiration?” The man furrowed his brow, sighing, “Yes… I used to create without end, but now, it seems I can barely paint a flower. The light that art gave me has faded oh so slowly… what do I do…?”

Dismon’s pen paused as he listened. What did he mean? Inspiration, creating, painting? He listened a bit closer, glancing slowly at his target and the beautiful woman. She seemed to smile and knelt down to the man, pinching his cheek, “You have not lost that inspiration, take a step back, absorb what is around you and relax. Life should be an experience. Enjoy the small moments, a butterfly on a leaf, the breeze catching a fair woman’s hair, the kiss of a lover. Really feel what emotions the world throws at you…” The man sighed softly and smiled warmly, “I suppose I can try again… I may go and walk the garden, clear my thoughts.” Dismon watched and looked to the woman, his head filling with doubts and thoughts for the first time in a long time. His eyes rested on everything around him. The architecture, the flowers in the garden, the way the man walked and the sound of his hum. It all seamlessly meleded together, almost telling it’s own story. He had been trained to focus solely on what needed to be done, but now he was looking. He was analyzing he was… feeling something, though he didn’t understand what. He snapped back, quickly following the target as he made his way through the garden. The moonlight illuminating the bard’s path as he stopped to stare at something. Dismon took a moment to look as well. It was what looked like a field with a little farmhouse. The look of the image filled Dismon with confusion, he just kept staring. Why was this recorded? Why some little house on a hill? Is this what the Goddess was talking about, is this supposed to make him feel? As he questioned this, he saw the Bard wipe a tear from his eye and move on. The bard was crying. Why was he crying? Why?? As Dismon went about his recording, questions filled his mind with each piece of art and statue they passed. And soon, his mission was over. He was returned home where he gave an exhaustive report of the Bard and who he had met over the day. His mind had changed slightly, during the weeks he only began to question more and more, and his thirst for answers grew ravenously. He started to look forward to missions to new places, and even old. Now he kept a separate set of notes on each plane, the unique structure, and the creatures and people who inhabited them. He wondered now about why they did certain things, rituals, or habits. His targets were now both his master’s task and his. He loved watching them and their rituals, doing weird or obscure things for reasons unknown to himself. The next two planes he visited was the Celestial plane, and once, the material plane. He took more of an interest in the material plane. It may have been the memories of his parents, or the varieties of creatures here and the strange customs they have. But he did like the combination of everything he had been seeing, and the questions and knowledge it brought. He now sits in front of a crystal ball, watching a party of a Goblin named Tihx, an Elf named Nissa, a Dragonborn named Soqourel, an Earth Gensai named Metal, a plant being named Douglas, and the prospective new general of his master’s army, Yrgna, a gnoll barbarian. He was tasked with watching them in everything they did. He chuckled a little as he watched the group get surrounded by Hobgoblins. His new order came in, he would join the group, supporting Yrgna and giving her a small guiding hand on her path. He would be doing this indefinitely. It was strange, his missions had only ever been a day at most, and now, how long would he stay on the Material Plane? What would he learn? How would he function in such a strange plane…? He didn’t know, as the hours came ticking down. Was he ready? Of course, not that he had a choice anyways.

[squishys-stories]

Meet Dismon Fuelon, a Tiefling from the Abyss who is a devotee of the Lord of Shadows. He’s one of his spies in training and my new character. I’m going to use this blog to dedicate his story and adventures too! Come by and read up!