Nethril

Once the High Scholar of the Academy of Western Anhelt, Nethril’s life changed – and ended – forever when he made a dark pact with the God of Shadow, Siroth. For years, Nethril had been working on his magnum opus, a vast, multi-volume history of Teleria, embracing everything from flora and fauna, geography, cultures, and events, from the Gray Age to the modern day. It had become an obsession which consumed each day and most of each night, to such an extent that he sought out elixirs and spells that would supposedly allow him to live without sleep. Eventually Nethril’s life began to wane, eroded by the strains of his perpetual work. It was while researching the nature of the Undead that he hit upon a realization. Time was of no concern to one already dead. Why meddle with the stopgap of petty magics, seeking to work through the night, or extend his life by only a few years, when immortality was there to be claimed? Nethril threw himself into researching the Undead, delving into depths no honest scholar ever should. Eventually, having found what he sought, he took up his ceremonial high scholar’s staff and beseeched the dreaded Siroth. He presented an unusual proposition – an eternity of service if the divine would only gift him the so-called curse of the Crimson Hunger. Siroth was silent, and Nethril received nothing. He made a number of horrific attempts at gaining favor, eventually poisoning an entire cohort of new students. Finally, Siroth spoke to his would-be acolyte. The God of Darkness granted Nethril the Hunger, even going so far as to magically carve the forever-bleeding Blood Mark, one of his sigils, into Nethril’s chest. Immortality would be his, Siroth promised, in exchange for service, and a single promise – Nethril would expunge all records of Siroth from his history book. Nethril agreed, and returned to his studies a changed being. No longer did the realities of mortality burden him. He had no need of sleep, nor food. He found he could work for days on end. The only burden was the need for blood, which the Crimson Hunger required if he was to maintain a semblance of his former self. He quickly conquered his desires for it. Such a craving was insubstantial compared with his addiction to his work. The arrangement could not last. The changes in Nethril – his nocturnal habits and strange lack of appetite – drew comments from colleagues already dismayed at his unnatural work ethic. When his secret was uncovered, he was driven from his chambers, and all of his works were seized and flung upon a pyre built in the Academy’s quadrangle. Nethril went wild with fury as he saw the very reason for his existence going up in flames. He slaughtered the greater part of the Academy’s scholars, but could not save his scrolls. Drenched in blood, he took only his staff and fled. Nethril swore an oath that bound him forever on the path of corruption. If the living cared so little about their own history, he would end history itself. He would help ensure Undeath triumphed over the living, and change itself would cease. Because of this, at least to Nethril’s thinking, there would be no more history. Kings would reign forever, necropolis-cities would stand as eternal monuments, and there would be no births to record, no deaths to mark. The destruction of Nethril’s work was not a loss, he realized, because even if it had been ‘completed’, it would all have been in vain regardless, as there would always be more events to record. Using this twisted logic, Nethril resolved to exterminate all life. Thus has a once-great scholar become a ruthless hunter of mortals. He has fashioned his staff into the Reaping Stave, which is not only a deadly weapon, but also a powerful locus for the necromantic arts. Death has become Nethril’s new obsession. To pursue it he has not only a razor-sharp mind and his wicked scythe, but also a bond with the creatures of the night. Swarms of bats and ravenous wolves obey his commands, helping to stalk his prey and ensuring that there is not a scrap of flesh left on bones once the killing is done, leaving the skeletal remains ripe for resurrection. Nethril’s great knowledge makes him a valuable ally for other Undead. His goal is the destruction of the living, and he knows it is not something he can achieve alone. To those not battling the Undead scholar, Nethril can appear worldly and even charming, but it is a veneer covering his eternal bitterness. His twisted quest has been the cause of countless deaths, and it will continue to be so until all is as still and as quiet as the grave.