Red Rose

Overview:
Name: Gothmog
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: Old, unknow...
Culture: Thaian
Birth: unknown
Height: 1,72 m
Personality: calm, understanding and gentle
Profession: paladin of Banor
Defining traits:
This chacter has a mark in his soul of being a assassin and greed for power in his past life;
Looking for redemption:
Gothmog seeks to help people and spread the word of hope and love, from Banor, hoping he can pay for his sins.



In the old days, in the lands of Tibia, there lived a skilled assassin, feared throughout the land. An old and powerful wizard, who has always seeking for knowledge, power and Money... sitting alone in his dark throne. His name was whispered in dark corners, a byword for death delivered swiftly and silently. But death, as it always does, came for him as well. Yet, instead of finding eternal damnation, he was granted a second chance, a divine intervention by Banor, god of light and justice. His soul, stained with the blood of his victims, was sent back to Tibia, not as the shadow he once was, but as a Paladin, tasked with a mission of redemption.

His old body, worn by years of violence, was rejuvenated, filled with the strength and vitality of youth. He was bestowed with shining armor, a symbol of his new purpose, and a holy bow, its arrows meant to protect rather than to take life. Haunted by memories of his past deeds, he embraced his new calling with fervent zeal. He vowed to protect the helpless, to right the wrongs he had committed, and to spread the word of Banor, seeking forgiveness for his past life.

He journeyed across Tibia, a land brimming with both beauty and danger. He faced monstrous creatures, aided those in need, and spread the light of Banor to those lost in darkness. He fought alongside brave knights and wise druids, offering his strength and newfound wisdom to those who walked the path of good. His name, once whispered in fear, was now spoken with reverence by those he saved. He became a beacon of hope, a testament to Banor's mercy and the possibility of redemption.

As he traveled from city to city, following the path of Rashid, the travelling trader, he shared tales of Banor's love and justice. He taught people how to defend themselves against the evils that lurked in the shadows. He became a mentor to young adventurers, guiding them towards a life of honor and righteousness. With every good deed, the darkness of his past life receded, replaced by the growing light of his newfound faith.

He knew that his atonement would be a lifelong journey, a constant struggle against the shadows of his past. But with each life saved, each act of kindness, he felt the weight of his sins lighten. He was a living example that even in a world as harsh as Tibia, redemption was possible through the grace of Banor. His story served as an inspiration to all those who struggled with their own inner darkness, a shining testament to the power of faith and the enduring hope for a brighter future.

Surely Banor's eye twinkle over one sinner who repents and returns to the fold than over 99 other righteous believers who never strayed away.

The past life of Gothmog. Before redemption and the touch of Banor, Gothmog remembers most of his past life:

A Child of the Swamp
The humid air hung heavy in the Venore swamps, thick with the scent of decay and buzzing with insects. The small, ramshackle hut, perched precariously on stilts above the murky water, was home to a family of three: a hardworking woodcutter, his wife, a skilled weaver of reeds and swamp grasses, and their young son, Berimba, a bright-eyed child who found wonder in the teeming life of the swamp. They were poor, their lives a constant struggle against the harshness of their surroundings, but they had each other, and that was enough.
One night, the stillness of the swamp was shattered. A group of cloaked figures, their faces hidden by grotesque masks, emerged from the mist, their eyes burning with an unholy fire. These were the followers of Zathroth, a malevolent deity whispered about in hushed tones, a bringer of chaos and destruction. Driven by a twisted fanaticism, they had come to the swamp on a dark errand.
The woodcutters' humble abode offered little resistance against the intruders' grim purpose. The man, strong and fearless, fought bravely to protect his family but was quickly overwhelmed. His wife, desperate to save her child, tried to hide Berimba, but was brutally cut down. The child, paralyzed by terror, witnessed the horrific scene unfold before her innocent eyes. The cultists, their bloody work complete, vanished back into the swamp, leaving behind a scene of unimaginable sorrow. Berimba, the sole survivor of the massacre, huddled amidst the ruins of her home, the echoes of her parents' screams seared into his memory.

Escape from Venore
Berimba, now orphaned and utterly alone, knew he couldn't stay in the swamp. The memories were too painful, the silence too heavy. Driven by a primal instinct to survive and a faint glimmer of hope, he decided to flee Venore, a city built on treacherous swampland. He had heard whispered tales of Thais, a bustling port city far from there. Thais, a beacon of civilization and opportunity, represented a chance for a new life, a place where he could escape the horrors of his past. The journey was perilous. Berimba, a child barely old enough to understand the cruelty of the world, braved the dangers of the wild, his tiny heart filled with equal measures of fear and determination. He scavenged for food, sought shelter in the hollows of ancient trees, and avoided the dangerous creatures that lurked in the shadows. Along the way, he encountered kind strangers who, touched by her plight, offered him food and shelter, proving that even in a world shrouded in darkness, glimmers of humanity could still be found.
Finally, after weeks of hardship, Berimba reached the outskirts of Thais. The sight of the city, with its towering walls and bustling harbor, filled her with a mixture of awe and trepidation. It was a world completely different from the swamp he had known, a place of noise and crowds, of unfamiliar faces and strange customs. Yet, it was also a place of hope, a sanctuary where he could rebuild his shattered life.


Fibula discovering, a new home!
Berimba, still reeling from the loss of her family, wandered the bustling streets of Thais, lost and vulnerable. The city, though a beacon of hope, proved to be a harsh and unforgiving place for a young orphan. Hunger gnawed at her belly, and the cold indifference of the crowds chilled him to the bone. Just when his spirit was about to break, he crossed paths with dark figure, a battle-hardened mercenary with a heart as cold as the steel he carried.
The Mercenary, who had seen his fair share of death and despair, saw something in Berimba's eyes: a flicker of resilience, a spark of the same fire that burned within him. He saw potential, not just for survival but for something more. He decided to take him under his wing, not out of compassion, but out of a pragmatic recognition of his hidden strength. He knew that in this world, survival often demanded more than just luck; it required skill, cunning, and a willingness to embrace the shadows.
He decided to move to Fibula, an island known for its strategic location and the presence of the Mercenarys, who ruled over Fibula back them with iron fist.
He believed that under his tutorship, Berimba could learn the skills necessary to navigate the treacherous currents of their world. Fibula, with its history steeped in both honor and ruthlessness, was the perfect training ground for an aspiring assassin.
Under the Mercenary harsh but effective tutelage, Berimba began his transformation. The once innocent child of the swamp started to shed her former self, embracing the darkness that had been forced upon her. He learned the art of stealth, the precision of casting a spell, and the cold calculation required to take a life. He became the Mercenarys shadow, his apprentice in the deadly arts, honing her skills as he assisted him in his various tasks, often operating in the shadow of the Mercenarys influence.
Living in Fibula, he became very close to the Blackhearts childs, a unexpected friendship.

The friendship with the Blackhearts:
As Berimba grew older and more skilled under the Mercenary tutelage, his reputation as a rising talent in the shadowy world of espionage and assassination began to spread throughout Fibula. His agility, his mastery of stealth, and her ruthlessness when necessary caught the attention of many, including the younger members of the Blackheart family.
While Vaelen Blackheart, the patriarch, focused on the political machinations and power struggles that plagued their region, his descendents, bored by the formalities of their noble upbringing, found a certain thrill in the clandestine activities that whispered through the island's underbelly. They saw in Berimba a kindred spirit, someone who, like them, preferred the shadows to the blinding light of their family's legacy.
Secret meetings were arranged, hidden away from the watchful eyes of the Blackheart guards and the prying gazes of Fibula's elite. At first, Berimba was wary, suspicious of their motives. He had learned to trust no one, especially those who wielded power and privilege. But as they spent time together, exchanging stories of daring feats and close calls, he began to see beyond their noble lineage. They were, after all, young men, trapped in a world of expectations and ancient traditions, yearning for something more. They found in Berimba a friend, someone who understood the weight of secrets and the allure of danger.
Together, they explored the hidden corners of Fibula, venturing into the island's dark forests and ancient ruins, testing their skills against each other in mock battles that honed their reflexes and sharpened their instincts. Their friendship, forged in secrecy and mutual respect, became a bond that transcended their different backgrounds. Berimba, the orphan from the swamp, found acceptance and camaraderie among the sons of the Blackheart dynasty. And the Blackheart sons, bound by duty and tradition, found in Berimba a taste of freedom and a glimpse into a world beyond the confines of their noble lineage.



to be continued...

Lovely story! Looking forward to the next chapter

I wonder who these Blackhearts were!

Very pleasant reading, I see you have a great talent for it Gothmog!