The Paladin Without a Soul [Archive] - Wizards Community

The Paladin Without a Soul [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Baator the dark
06-25-05, 02:54 AM Thersius looked across the hard marble floor stained with blood at the man that faced him. A gaunt specimen of the human race from what Thersius had seen the man was unnaturally thin and pale which lent him an even more disturbing mannerism to his speach. Thersius himself could have passed for human although a battered and bruised one in his current state. His limbs ached from the strain of combat and his sweat aggrivated the cut above his eye as it dripped down. He did indeed appear completely human however, Thersius differed in one crucial way. He was made not born. He belonged to a species known to the common races as an ellan. It was on this matter that the man in front of him had been taunting him about over the course of the past hour. "Come now, you must realize that you don't have a soul. You're different from us, the true and pure living, you're the hideous creation of a malevolent intelligence." The words continued to ring in his head. But he knew that he was the last thing standing between this sadistic man and the innocents sheltering inside the church's inner sanctum. He had to hold him back and he wasn't about to let the poisoned words of a meglomaniac sway him. Thersius shook off the feeling and reached for his sword raising it to a guarding position in front of him. The thin gaunt man opened his mouth again "Just give up, what is the point anyway? If you die or if you live there is no difference. There is no sentience in you and you can't possibly understand the world of the living." Thersius looked at him with a 1,000 yard stare.
"NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, I am more alive than you are, people like you think of your mortallity as some birthright that you can through around, but you must earn it. The things I do are so that others may live while you selfishly sap the life from those around you. NO, it is you that does not understand." with these words his blade charged with the divine power of Dol Arrah.

This is just an idea I have had kicking around in my head for awhile. I was thinking of making a character that is an Ellan Paladin who is on a sort of quest to find out if he has a soul. He is definitely Lawful Good to the hilt but also has an intelligent and questioning mind. He is lawful in that he follows the code of his deity (Dol Arrah) very rigidly, however, he has no patience for the sometimes twisted statutes individual priests may impose. He harbors a strong belief that people are not so much born into mortality but they must do good works to earn their "soul" after death. This belief is somewhat odd for his Church although a small number of its congregation believe in it and all seem to respect Thersius' devotion to this belief.
Physically, Thersius appears human in almost every respect. However, on closer inspection there are subtle nuances that betray his nature. First of all his body is almost perfectly symetrical, his hands have nearly the exact same lay out of veins and skin impressions that are usually random on normal humans. Secondly, on the back of his skull there are two small impressions that no one seems to be able to explain. He is remarkably fit and keeps that way through rigorous exercise and frequent combat. His body bears numerous scars which show up as thin raised impressions on his skin. His face seems to be etched out of stone although it can also appear very warm and inviting. Thersius has the kind of eyes that never seem to smile regardless of the expression on his face and this unnerves some.
Thersius has a very serious and dedicated personality, but is also a warm and caring individual. He shares all that he has without a thought of reward and has been known to walk through slums offering food and shelter to the poor there. He rarely passes judgement on those he helps partially because of his own position.

Well, this is what I have so far. I'm thinking of playing him as a paladin/wilder or other psychic class (as Ellan's are a psychic race) although I may just go strait through with the Paladin class. Any comments or suggestions would be appreciated.
Need_A_Life
06-25-05, 06:38 AM I believe that it is spelled Elan (from the Expanded Psionics Handbook) and I like the concept.

I may try to write something for this paladin (a quick story perhaps), it is a great concept and I have waaaaay too much time on my hands. Besides, I like writing.
Baator the dark
06-25-05, 12:30 PM That would be great if you wrote a story and posted it. It would be really interesting to see other peoples takes on this kind of concept.
Need_A_Life
06-27-05, 06:39 AM Neither of these stories turned out the way I intended them but I think they offer alternatives all the same.

The Dying Paladin
Aidan walked panting up the mountain path, he supported himself to a long staff and slowly advanced up the path. Finally he reached a plateau and he threw himself down onto the warm rock, exhausted from the journey. The sun kept burning down on him mercilessly, and soon he realized that he had to go to the place of his vision tonight, the very thought was frightening but he knew that he had as little choice in this as in the decision of whether or not to climb the mountain. “Pelor, I must be guided by your choice. O, let my vision be untrue, my friend,” he said and walked into the tunnel. The tunnel was no longer than 3 meters long and only a half meter wide, he walked through it and entered the haven that lay beyond it. He felt wet moss under his feet and he saw the lake from his vision, all in shadow as the sanctuary was hidden from the sky by a natural dome of rock. He reluctantly walked on, knowing and fearing what he would see. By the shore of the water lay a naked woman dead, he knelt down beside her and placed his hand on her left cheek. It overwhelmed him and tears ran from his eyes and he futilely tried to restore her to life, channeling as much energy into her as he possibly could, draining his own life-force to save a mortal but with no success. He cried out in despair, he had known this woman for a long time but they had never met; now she was dead and he never had a chance to say goodbye. She had been in his visions always but never had she said a word. He tried to convince himself that it was a dream and that she was still alive but he found it impossible, he felt it as if his heart had been ripped from his chest when he saw her death but now he had no possibility of denying him. He cried out, a sound of utter despair, and heard the sound echo in the room. “You all die too soon, forgive me little sister, I could not prevent it,” He said while he still held her dead, cold body, “please forgive me,” He had tried it before but it only got harder each time, he outlived all those he loved and he could do nothing about it. He drew his dagger and cut his wrist with it, and he embraced the darkness that covered him, he no longer wished to live.
What good was it to fight for good if those you could not save those you care most about?

The Merciful Paladin
He strode the fields of battle, walking among the dead and dying. What waste, why did they fight? They fought for a king that none of them had met, fought for a country that they owed no allegiance, fought to protect a family they could not save. He had survived not because of skill or luck, but because he had not fought; those who had attempted to attack him found his parries to be impenetrable and his fighting spirit lacking. He saw the face of a soldier twisted in pain and agony, he had been impaled by a greatsword and was clearly dying. “There is no winners in war, brother” he said and slit the mans throat with his longsword. He looked up and saw what would be his opposite number, “What is a man like you doing here? Fighting alongside mortals? You cannot possibly hope to be one just because you act like them,” the man sneered and lifted the symbol of Pelor above his head, invoking the power of Pelor to smite what he considered an enemy of the human race. “I may not be human, and I may not be worthy of living forever among the stars, but I do what I do because it is the right thing to do, not because I am afraid to die,” he said calmly letting the insult be obvious and painful without openly insulting the man. “If you decide to kill me in the name of your god, then so be it, but know that I will not strike you down for being a foolish zealot,” He said and turned his back and walked away. There had been enough killings today, he would not cause another.

Neither of these paladins want to kill, they are merciful, just but neither are flawless.

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Baator the dark 06-25-05, 02:54 AM	Thersius looked across the hard marble floor stained with blood at the man that faced him. A gaunt specimen of the human race from what Thersius had seen the man was unnaturally thin and pale which lent him an even more disturbing mannerism to his speach. Thersius himself could have passed for human although a battered and bruised one in his current state. His limbs ached from the strain of combat and his sweat aggrivated the cut above his eye as it dripped down. He did indeed appear completely human however, Thersius differed in one crucial way. He was made not born. He belonged to a species known to the common races as an ellan. It was on this matter that the man in front of him had been taunting him about over the course of the past hour. "Come now, you must realize that you don't have a soul. You're different from us, the true and pure living, you're the hideous creation of a malevolent intelligence." The words continued to ring in his head. But he knew that he was the last thing standing between this sadistic man and the innocents sheltering inside the church's inner sanctum. He had to hold him back and he wasn't about to let the poisoned words of a meglomaniac sway him. Thersius shook off the feeling and reached for his sword raising it to a guarding position in front of him. The thin gaunt man opened his mouth again "Just give up, what is the point anyway? If you die or if you live there is no difference. There is no sentience in you and you can't possibly understand the world of the living." Thersius looked at him with a 1,000 yard stare. "NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, I am more alive than you are, people like you think of your mortallity as some birthright that you can through around, but you must earn it. The things I do are so that others may live while you selfishly sap the life from those around you. NO, it is you that does not understand." with these words his blade charged with the divine power of Dol Arrah. This is just an idea I have had kicking around in my head for awhile. I was thinking of making a character that is an Ellan Paladin who is on a sort of quest to find out if he has a soul. He is definitely Lawful Good to the hilt but also has an intelligent and questioning mind. He is lawful in that he follows the code of his deity (Dol Arrah) very rigidly, however, he has no patience for the sometimes twisted statutes individual priests may impose. He harbors a strong belief that people are not so much born into mortality but they must do good works to earn their "soul" after death. This belief is somewhat odd for his Church although a small number of its congregation believe in it and all seem to respect Thersius' devotion to this belief. Physically, Thersius appears human in almost every respect. However, on closer inspection there are subtle nuances that betray his nature. First of all his body is almost perfectly symetrical, his hands have nearly the exact same lay out of veins and skin impressions that are usually random on normal humans. Secondly, on the back of his skull there are two small impressions that no one seems to be able to explain. He is remarkably fit and keeps that way through rigorous exercise and frequent combat. His body bears numerous scars which show up as thin raised impressions on his skin. His face seems to be etched out of stone although it can also appear very warm and inviting. Thersius has the kind of eyes that never seem to smile regardless of the expression on his face and this unnerves some. Thersius has a very serious and dedicated personality, but is also a warm and caring individual. He shares all that he has without a thought of reward and has been known to walk through slums offering food and shelter to the poor there. He rarely passes judgement on those he helps partially because of his own position. Well, this is what I have so far. I'm thinking of playing him as a paladin/wilder or other psychic class (as Ellan's are a psychic race) although I may just go strait through with the Paladin class. Any comments or suggestions would be appreciated.
Need_A_Life 06-25-05, 06:38 AM	I believe that it is spelled Elan (from the Expanded Psionics Handbook) and I like the concept. I may try to write something for this paladin (a quick story perhaps), it is a great concept and I have waaaaay too much time on my hands. Besides, I like writing.
Baator the dark 06-25-05, 12:30 PM	That would be great if you wrote a story and posted it. It would be really interesting to see other peoples takes on this kind of concept.
Need_A_Life 06-27-05, 06:39 AM	Neither of these stories turned out the way I intended them but I think they offer alternatives all the same. The Dying Paladin Aidan walked panting up the mountain path, he supported himself to a long staff and slowly advanced up the path. Finally he reached a plateau and he threw himself down onto the warm rock, exhausted from the journey. The sun kept burning down on him mercilessly, and soon he realized that he had to go to the place of his vision tonight, the very thought was frightening but he knew that he had as little choice in this as in the decision of whether or not to climb the mountain. “Pelor, I must be guided by your choice. O, let my vision be untrue, my friend,” he said and walked into the tunnel. The tunnel was no longer than 3 meters long and only a half meter wide, he walked through it and entered the haven that lay beyond it. He felt wet moss under his feet and he saw the lake from his vision, all in shadow as the sanctuary was hidden from the sky by a natural dome of rock. He reluctantly walked on, knowing and fearing what he would see. By the shore of the water lay a naked woman dead, he knelt down beside her and placed his hand on her left cheek. It overwhelmed him and tears ran from his eyes and he futilely tried to restore her to life, channeling as much energy into her as he possibly could, draining his own life-force to save a mortal but with no success. He cried out in despair, he had known this woman for a long time but they had never met; now she was dead and he never had a chance to say goodbye. She had been in his visions always but never had she said a word. He tried to convince himself that it was a dream and that she was still alive but he found it impossible, he felt it as if his heart had been ripped from his chest when he saw her death but now he had no possibility of denying him. He cried out, a sound of utter despair, and heard the sound echo in the room. “You all die too soon, forgive me little sister, I could not prevent it,” He said while he still held her dead, cold body, “please forgive me,” He had tried it before but it only got harder each time, he outlived all those he loved and he could do nothing about it. He drew his dagger and cut his wrist with it, and he embraced the darkness that covered him, he no longer wished to live. What good was it to fight for good if those you could not save those you care most about? The Merciful Paladin He strode the fields of battle, walking among the dead and dying. What waste, why did they fight? They fought for a king that none of them had met, fought for a country that they owed no allegiance, fought to protect a family they could not save. He had survived not because of skill or luck, but because he had not fought; those who had attempted to attack him found his parries to be impenetrable and his fighting spirit lacking. He saw the face of a soldier twisted in pain and agony, he had been impaled by a greatsword and was clearly dying. “There is no winners in war, brother” he said and slit the mans throat with his longsword. He looked up and saw what would be his opposite number, “What is a man like you doing here? Fighting alongside mortals? You cannot possibly hope to be one just because you act like them,” the man sneered and lifted the symbol of Pelor above his head, invoking the power of Pelor to smite what he considered an enemy of the human race. “I may not be human, and I may not be worthy of living forever among the stars, but I do what I do because it is the right thing to do, not because I am afraid to die,” he said calmly letting the insult be obvious and painful without openly insulting the man. “If you decide to kill me in the name of your god, then so be it, but know that I will not strike you down for being a foolish zealot,” He said and turned his back and walked away. There had been enough killings today, he would not cause another. Neither of these paladins want to kill, they are merciful, just but neither are flawless.