Origins
Damien's young years were packed with family deaths and trauma. He remembers little of his early childhood, merely that his parents were killed in a dark elf onslaught and that he was taken to be raised in Eolnir by the dark elf king, Baldemar. Despite Baldemar's incessant claim that Damien was a son of House Baldare, Damien spent the first thirteen years of his life suffering under that name and title. Rather than having the countenance and attitude of a prince, he was prone to behaving like a slave forcibly taken from his home. In addition to Baldemar's abusive fatherhood, Damien suffered from extensive and torturous experimentation by the hands of dark mages.A New Life
In the year 464, Damien woke up in a strange place called Lorianthil - the neighboring human kingdom. He remembered little of his escape from Eolnir, but with the help from a young mage named Ashlyn, Damien was able to piece his memory back together over the course of a few years. With Ashlyn, Damien found a sense of welcome in Lorianthil and found himself living with a clan of Lor elves in the forest realm of Gumber. His new-found father, Kallus, trained and educated Damien in the knowledge and skills he needed to function in human society. But when Kallus began to overexert his authority, Damien ran away from Gumber with his adopted brother, Naelen, and made for the northern territory of Careth. There, he trained for 4.5 years at the Fighters Academy and looked for new work prospects as an Agent of the Crown (an elite kingdom force that specializes in intelligence and border security). As an agent, Damien's fighting career prospered, and within a few years, he found himself moving to Tauros where the woman in his life resided: Ashlyn. They had grown attached in their youth, and Damien finally agreed to stop chasing bad guys at the border and be closer to her. It was an odd change at first, but with a little confidence and much support from his girlfriend, Damien eased into his new position as a captain of intelligence.A Secret Desire
On the surface, all might look well in the facets of Damien's life; a beautiful woman, a solid career, and a reputable title, but he cannot seem to shake his burning need to confront and kill his abuser. Though the ones closest to him have yet to call him out on it, they sense a deep turmoil within Damien and await the day he will face it.From the Text
After the unfortunate supper, Damien paid a visit to his favorite watchtower, which sat toward the center of the palace. It was a feat to reach the top landing, but he had gotten used to it over the years. Every so often, he would make the strenuous climb because this particular tower was seldom occupied. It was a place he could count on when he needed to get away from the cares that wore at him. He stood at the top alone, fidgeting with the silver ring on his hand. Quite a lot had happened over the past few days; quite a lot had changed. Though he would never admit it in public, meeting Amilié had affected his desires greatly. A few days ago, he was content to be with Ashlyn, to let her turn him into a pampered politician. But Amilié...she reminded him of the promise he made to himself once. There was no way he could let go of that now, to let his younger self die. But why did it have to be Amilié? Why was she so curious and demanding? Damien didn’t like lying to her face, and he wasn’t sure he could keep her in the dark for long. A part of him yearned to tell her the truth, but there was so much risk that came with it. No, he decided. Telling Amilié was dangerous. It would bring nothing but ruin, and he couldn’t afford that. The sound of footsteps stirred behind him, of gentle feet climbing up the tight staircase. When Ashlyn appeared atop the landing, she crossed over to where Damien stood. “Don’t hate me for finding you,” Ashlyn said. “I figure we need to talk. I’m sorry about Marcas, I know he has a way of getting to you.” Damien made no response to that. It wasn’t Marcas’ behavior that was eating at him, it was doubt…such intrusive doubt. “Look at me.” Damien fidgeted with his wrist-guards. “Am I really so obvious?” Ashlyn understood. Even now, she was sifting through his thoughts, his stormy emotions. “Well, Amilié is pretty clever, I gather not much gets past her.” She placed her hand at his jaw. “But that’s not what’s troubling you, so what is it?” She already knew the answer. The sole reason she asked was so he could say it out loud, so he could face it. “Ash,” he said as he squeezed her hand, “I know you brought me here to stay with you, to rule with you, but I can’t. I can’t play kingdom, not without great personal cost.” Ashlyn looked away, trying to conceal her wetting eyes. When she cried, she always shed a few gentle tears before the flow came. “That doesn’t mean you have to leave,” she whispered. “Is there anything I can do to keep you here?” “I think we both understand it’s time for me to go back.” Damien heard himself choking out the words like they were lead in his throat. “I’m sorry.” He took the ring from his hand and placed it inside her palm. Ashlyn held up the ring and grew angry at it. “This isn’t what I wanted. You can’t ‘play kingdom,’ but I can’t be a queen without you.” Damien brushed his thumb over her soft lips as he came closer. “Yes, you can. This kingdom is already yours, they’ve just been keeping it safe for you. Don’t sacrifice your task over me, I never wanted that.” He kissed her on the head, though Ashlyn was crying steadily now. Damien could hardly bear to listen to her grief. With a deep inhale, he said, “If I do return...I promise I’ll marry you. I could be open to ruling with you. Someday. I just need to see this through.” “I know you do.” She leaned into his chest. “And that’s what makes it so unfair. I hate that you need this more than anything. More than me, more than your friends. More than your destiny.” “I know it’s not fair,” he whispered. “But this is my destiny, and I never expected you to understand.” “Just let all of this go,” she pleaded. “It’s not worth it, Damien, it’s not worth your life.” “Ash, you have a choice here, too. You can help me— or not. I would rather have the Sorceress of Lorianthil at my side.” Oddly, his words seemed to calm Ashlyn down for the moment. She looked up, gazing at him. “You’re saying I should come with you?” “Why not? You’ve saved me from the dark of Ëolnir once before, it wouldn’t surprise me if you did it again.” Ashlyn remained silent as she considered, and after a long while she said, “If I go with you, who will be there to lead the army?” “Let’s have Marcas handle it,” he shrugged. “He seems eager to be in charge of something, I’m sure he’d be happy to organize the soldiers and march them west.” “That’s a sound idea,” she said, her mood returning to a dormant state. “I’m impressed, Damien, you’ve been learning a lot from King Arran, haven’t you?” “Well, war is a language every diplomatic figure knows how to speak--” Damien gripped her by the waist, “--no matter how different they are.” He kissed her with reverence, savored her lips with his own. “So, yes?” “I would rather be at your side, too,” she nodded. “Yes.” Ashlyn opened his hand and dropped the silver ring into his palm. “I want you to keep this. If not a promise to your kingdom, then let it be a promise to me.” Damien stared at the ring for a moment before slipping it back onto his finger. “Fine,” he said, kissing her again. She relaxed into his arms, stared up at the stars. Her greatest flaw happened to be what Damien loved most about her. Ashlyn was one to look to Destiny, the celestial being that governed her existence. Damien knew even now she listened to its voice. He wondered how it spoke to her, if it was a booming chorus or more like a small whisper that guided her through this life. According to Ashlyn, the world and everything in it was a great tapestry. Every thread had its place and moving a single one could potentially unravel it altogether. But Damien had never felt like a thread that belonged. Despite her disagreement, he was resolved to unravel every tapestry, move every thread until his world felt right again.
Relationships
History
Let me explain... No, there is too much. Let me sum up: Ashlyn and Damien met when they were thirteen-ish and started off as friends. Then, over the course of many years, many adventures, they grew to love each other.
Nicknames & Petnames
Damien prefers to call Ashlyn the nickname he dubbed for her - Ash
An orphan stolen by a dark king. Against all odds, this boy manages to escape his prison and forges a new path for himself.
Quick look for roleplaying
Race: Human male Alignment: Chaotic good Weapons and equipment: Favors the longsword for close-range combat. His skills with bladed weapons, though, are rather versatile; knives, daggers, broadswords, etc. At long range, he is partial to using a cross-bow but rarely has access to one, so he often goes without. His experience as a weapon smith allows him to craft almost any blunt weapon he can imagine, and he understands a wide range of cultural and practical styles.
Spouses
Ashlyn
(Love)
Children
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