The Story Of Veron Sathra

The Story Of Veron Sathra, concerns a young boy turned Undead Hunter that donned a mask of his own creation and spent years travelling around Grecia fighting undead.

Summary

Veron Sathra grew up in a small village, near to the present day town of Asinia, his mother and father were elf and human respectively, making him a cross between the 2. He was somewhat shunned at the time as their attitudes towards half races were... somewhat different to what they are in present day. There was rumours & talk that an entrance to the fabled Necromantion was located nearby to the village, a sprawling underground network of tunnels and burial crypts dedicated to the god of the dead and king of the underworld, Hades. Only people who intended to seek out its terrible secrets were able to find it, and those who did were said to have gone mad. During his early years, a necromancer attacked his village controlling what is told as, an army of the undead. This had never happened before in the history of his village, they were a quiet place out of the way of modern strife and turmoil. Undead attacks were not common in this area, it was almost as if this mage was angry at something, or someone. The army of undead burst into his home as his mother hid him within a nearby chest. The undead had little resistance from his father and tore his mother to pieces infront of his very eyes. Veron sat there inside the chest... Not wanting to move, stunned with disbelief at what he had just witnessed. Terrified of the undead that were invading his home. The next day, his father had risen from the dead and Veron, being the naive young child that he was, believed his father to still be alive and when he expected the loving embrace of his father turned into incomprehensible growls and unrelating fury. He ran. He ran as far as he could and as fast as he could. He fled through the wrecked village he had once called his home and into the nearby forests. As he ran he witnessed the countless people he once referred to as friends, emanating the same noises his father did with a cold grey look in their eyes. They were no longer the people they were before, friends, farmers, merchants. All gone. These sorts of events would leave a psychological toll on even the hardiest of men, so needless to say, Veron was left with scars that ran so deep, they would continue to torment him throughout much of his life. Paranoia, schizophrenia shortly set in, Shortly after this event, as he remained in the forest keeping watch to the outside and fending for himself to survive. He witnessed a poor adventurer be seemingly ambushed and tore apart in the paths between the trees by a set of marching undead. He watched from a hiding place he had secured to watch the road, unable to assist. The screams of the poor soul being attacked and murdered echoing through the forest. Afterwards, although unaware of his presence, the undead began to stumble towards the spot where Veron was hiding. In a state of panic Veron frantically retreated back into the forest, certain that they had seen him and were coming for him as well. Eventually, in his panic, he circled back to where the fallen adventurer lay. His armour beaten and broken, his face broken and bloody. Desperate for a place to hide Veron began to claw at the armour laying on the ground bringing a jagged and broken piece of it to his face. The shambling corpses, still completely unaware of him continued on their original path, paying no attention to the frightened half-elf with metal infront of his face, they continued on their course. Towards their masters call. This led him to believe that his makeshift, blood covered mask held a power that he had not foreseen. It was the illusion of this power that made Veron vow to slay the hordes of undead creatures within this world. Vengeance filled his heart, mind, and soul. He devoted countless years of his life to this one task, and this one task alone, he travelled across Grecia slaying undead and horrific creatures that tormented the population. It was because of these acts, that Veron eventually began to be known as a hero and was eventually dubbed the name “O foniás“ or “The Slayer” Whereas he began this life being almost shunned by his peers and society for his mind set and race now he was revered for his expertise and wisdom. Gradually, later on in Veron’s life he began changing and his paranoia and schizophrenia began to subside into the back of his mind. His childhood memories still paid him visits on occasions, in the form of dreams and nightmares, but he no longer felt the need for revenge it was as though a burden had been lifted from his mind. He devoted the end of his days to helping those in need. Proving to himself that he was deserving of the title of hero that people had given him. The details of his death are unknown, but his legacy still remains. Even hundreds of years afterwards, people still speak his name and if you’re very lucky, you may still find some bards that may speak his tales and rumours can still be heard of magical items he once used in life through the ramblings of drunken townsfolk. His mask fell into legend... Disappearing around the same sort of time as Veron did. It was rumoured that another had worn the mask, taking up the mantle of Foniás but it was never proven, nor was the mask ever discovered.

Spread

Common among bards and creatures old enough that they would have recent relatives who would have heard the myth first hand. Also may be quiet well known within the province of Hentonia, as it is a significant aspect of their history.

Variations & Mutation

Occasional variations of the story include mention of a sword that Veron also used, however this was never found and it was never proven.

Date of First Recording

-955BR

Date of Setting

-956BR