An Inquisitor of Iomedae who hunts down the corruption that haunts him.

Twenty four years ago a child was born to parents who’s name’s are known by none who still live. They were cultists, fanatic followers of the demon queen Lamashtu. Their strange followings led them to deform themselves, in order to please Lamashtu, and they planned to do the same to their newborn child as an offering. Thankfully for the child a small company of holy knights happened upon the cultists shoddy encampment. In the name of their goddess Iomedae they rode into the camp and rounded the heretics up. They found the child just in time, it’s mother holding a knife over it as it screamed and cried. Fearing for the child’s life, the parents were slain and the child taken into their care.

The monks and clerics of the Iomedae order took the child in, raising him from birth and when he was old enough they all worked together to educate him. He was taught everything from basic comprehension skills to the teachings and deeds of their goddess Iomedae. From the age of three the child could recite the 11 Acts of Iomedae, and he took part in the regular prayers and services of the temple. As he grew older though, he was troubled by reoccuring and violent nightmares of corruptions the likes of which he’d never known.

As he grew into manhood, he knew he wasn’t destined to follow his teachers in their peaceful practices. The things he’d seen so many nights in his dreams, things that had him waking to the sound of his own screaming, he knew those were his true mission. He had to seek out such corruption and destroy it. He was accepted into the order of the holy knights of Iomedae, but he dropped out before he was appointed as a paladin of the order. Despite being surrounded by them his entire life, their methods just felt… wrong.

In his late teens he left the Temple he’d called home his entire life, and began a journey to a place he’d heard of in whispers. There was a shrine, to the goddess Iomedae, but it was different then the one he’d lived in… they talked about it as if they were heretics themselves, those followers. Their methods were much less direct and forthcoming than the Paladins with their shining armor and couragious actions. He spent days wandering across both roads and wilderness, picking up bits of information about the shrine and how to find it from other travellers. When he finally found himself at the steps of the shrine, he pounded on the door and begged to be taken in. From the other side of the door he was asked a question, “Why should we take you in, you’re just a boy? What makes you think you have what it takes to be an inquisitor?” to which he immediately replied “Because I have seen the darkness and corruption of this realm, and I must find it. Then when I have found it I will look it in the eyes, and stamp it out of existance.” After a few minutes of waiting and wondering if his cause was hopeless, the door opened and he was beckoned in.

When he was asked his name, without hesitation he made one up for them, “eremes”. He’d never had one, his caretakers at the Temple had only referred to him as “boy” or “son”. Never had the thought crossed his mind that he didn’t have a proper name like everyone else. During his training as an inquisitor of the order of Iomedae, he realzed that it wasn’t something he was lacking… but something he had that few could claim. He was untraceable before this point, his past a mystery to any who might go looking. Choosing his own name seemed fitting, like being born into the world anew. A world that needed cleansing.

He trained with the inquisition for several years, mastering the intricacies of their art. He took to it like water, drinking up the knowledge and experience of the senior inquisitors until he could sense when he was being lied to and even command the truth from others. His mastery of the martial arts left much more to desire. He was swift and his accuracy with ranged weapons was unparalled, but his close quarters skill was mediocre at best. He wasn’t particularly muscular, and was ill suited to taking blows. He was nearly exiled from the order on several occasions when his training resulted in serious injury, but the elders agreed that his mastery of the diplomatic side of their skills was enough to warrant overlooking his overall frailty and he was finally accepted into their order as a true inquisitor.

Years later now he travels the lands of Cyran, following the rumors and stories of it’s people in an attempt to root out and destroy it’s darkest evils.


Flames and Steel: The Chromatic War Darkeness