The Wounded World
The Dark Wanderer
Prominent Figures of the Black Rose, Vol. XXIV
A human male who constantly keeps his features hidden, Derenor’s true face has never been seen by any living creature outside the Amethyst Citadel. One can roughly gauge his height to be around that of 5’7" (176 cm); fairly average by any human standards. Any other details beyond that would require an extraordinary amount of luck when guessing, some form of divination spell, or the blessings of a god of secrets.
The entirety of his figure is shrouded in clothes of various hues of purple and black-dyed leather. The cloak-hood combination he wears is long and flowing, even when compared to the trends in mageling fashion. How it never seems to get caught on protrusions and surface irregularities is a mystery in itself. Despite being a wizard, Derenor is not without a degree of martial prowess. Able to wear a form-fitting cuirass of leather, he wields a brutal-looking ebony staff and also sports a fine sabre by his side. Upon closer inspection, one could swear that the skull-shaped pommel of his blade contained an eerie semblance of sentience in its hollow eye sockets. A human skull with a black cross stamped upon its forehead hangs alongside the blade from a silver chain. No one knows why he carries or what he uses this macabre object for. The only colour of his ensemble would be the ivory white, featureless face-mask which he wears at all times. A stark contrast to his darker clothing, Derenor has been likened to be a servant of the Reaper by peasants and simple farmers on many occasions while villager mothers whisper the tale of the passing of “the Doombringer” to quieten their often times misbehaving children.
Another fact one should note about him is his sometimes baffling (and somewhat unpredictable) behaviour. Usually he is reserved and brooding, leaving his allies to argue amongst themselves over a dilemma while he wanders off, returning after the members have resolved their differences only to discover the issue having been dealt by with him in a non-too discrete manner. But on rare occasions, he has been known to show compassion! Be it a lost peasant child, a trapped sprite, or a wounded animal, eye witnesses have seen him go beyond his own means to aid the seemingly less fortunate (or less learnt). Several small, isolated (and defenceless) villages in fact owe their very existence to him. However, he seems to acknowledge the simple fact that despite the small mercies and charities he provides, gratitude is never given purely because of his morbid appearance and destructive potential.
A man who possess a near-fanatical zeal in regards to his beliefs and convictions, he is slow to trust people outside his order, often times on the (usually negative) assumption, “They lack sufficient foresight and true purpose in life.” His battlegrounds are a testament to his powers (and temperament once angered!), as charred corpses and steaming ash litter the ground – as well as the odd mass of rotting, putrid flesh here and there. Not a subtle wizard as their kind go.
Despite the many misgivings any sane person would have about him, Derenor is a hero at heart and would sacrifice his own mortal life to preserve the world and its many inhabitants.
1) “To be a rightful human in these end times is truly a monumental test from the gods.”
2) “It is far better to die a free, mortal being than live forever as an enslaved immortal one. I pity the undead.”
3) “This world is truly full of wonders.”
1) “You will either die by my blade and staff or entropy’s eternal grasp. Either way, you cannot escape death.”
2) “Rest now, your time among the living has come to an end.”
3) “Hmm, what fascinating energies…”
4) “You lack, discipline.”
- Brokki Honourbeard, Order of the Black Rose, Loremaster and Grand Scholar
Derenor was born within the Cessarin Confederacy to parents who possessed minor magical abilities. His natural affinity with the arcane and innate curiosity attracted the eyes of a secretive order in his early years. One fine noon day, a pair of mysterious, cloaked men approached his parents with a strange and frightening proposal – they were offered the chance to leave their current, meagre lives behind and follow them into the mountains to aid in establishing a new city. What’s more, Derenor was extended the privilege to be taken in by the order’s militant sect and trained to hone his magical aptitude under the proper guidance and tutelage by one of the few surviving Grand Magi.
At first his father flatly refused their offer, stating that he would rather not set his treasured son down the certain path of a brutal and untimely demise. Unexpectedly, a roaming pack of undocumented beasts stumbled upon and quickly began attacking the village, slaughtering those peasants who lacked the magical means to defend themselves. It was only because of the presence of the two wizards that the creatures were defeated and sent fleeing, saving the village in the process. Derenor’s father reconsidered their offer and for better or worse, young Derenor was inducted into the Order of the Black Rose.