PC
Human
Fighter
Eldritch Knight
D&D
5E
Bio
The Calderin family had a long, storied history of service to The Order of the Silver Chalice, counting several generations among the various facets of the noble-driven organization. A modestly wealthy family, they resided primarily in Waterdeep for decades, helping to establish and uphold the ideals of Siamorphe and whenever called upon, aid in the defense and expansion of the city at the direction of the ruling class.
As a young boy, Aradaine was a squire to several Knights of the Order, including his own father Ghalendir, who was slain protecting citizens outside of the city’s borders when Aradaine was eight years old. As the last surviving male of his bloodline, having no brothers or sisters, Aradaine’s mother urged the young boy to abandon his childish fascinations with knights and codes of honor in order to pursue his familial obligations and responsibilities to which he now found himself the sole heir to. The young boy however could not be dissuaded and only steeled his resolve in following in his fathers footsteps.
Near the age of ten, it was discovered that Aradaine possessed a talent for magic, specifically, the use of magic during martial combat. The ranking officers of The Order placed him into an arduous and dangerous training regime known as The Crucible, designed to bestow the knowledge and skill of an elite arm of The Order known commonly as Eldritch Knights. For nearly a decade, Aradaine devoted his life to this pursuit, studying and memorizing dozens of spells and tirelessly practicing an unending litany of combat techniques. When he was deemed ready, he was sworn into The Order of the Silver Chalice as a member of the all-Eldritch Knight fighting force, Vermilion Company, so named for the brightly-colored red cloaks and stoles that adorned their uniforms and armor.
Over the years that followed, Aradaine fought and bled next to his brothers and sisters of The Order in countless battles, ranging from small skirmishes to large-scale battles involving hundreds of combatants. Vermilion Company, though a relatively small force, rose in prominence, and over time earned a reputation as one of The Order’s most powerful and valuable assets. A reputation that would be their eventual undoing.
During his career, Aradaine was eventually elevated to the rank of Knight-Commander and became the leader of Vermilion Company, an honor that he believed would have made his late father proud. Over the course of his service, his mother had passed away from an illness, leaving all of the assets, small as they were, of the Calderin family to be officially bestowed upon him. Seeing little point in retaining property and titles, having sworn a life-long oath to The Order and it’s beliefs, Aradaine donated what little property he inherited to the city and held onto only a small amount of gold. The Order and Vermilion Company provided all that he needed in life, and he was content and with his station.
At the age of twenty-seven, having served as Knight-Commander for roughly three years, the nobility of Waterdeep enlisted The Order in establishing a more direct trade route from Waterdeep to Evereska, the city of the reclusive Sun and Moon Elves, south of the Greycloak Hills. The current road along the established Trade Way was long and prone to danger for traveling merchants and a shorter, more direct route, cutting through Southwood, and skating along the Serpent Hills had thus far proven too difficult a task for local militia and sell-swords. Vermilion Company now numbered nearly thirty members strong were eager to prove their worth once more to the city’s nobles, breaking protocol and accepting the mission even before officially being tasked to by The Order.
Several days into the journey passed without incident, and the knights faced down and fended off small, inconsequential threats along the way with no loss to their ranks. On the fifth day, coming out of Southwood and making for The Serpent Hills, the Company began seeing the remnants of previous expeditions, and were waylaid by a small scouting party of Yuan-Ti. The serpent-men were no match for the martial and magical prowess of knights, and were routed with ease. Several of the Yuan-Ti scouts broke ranks and fled, having seen their brethren cut down. Emboldened by this victory, Aradaine gave the command to fully pursue the scouts deeper into the Serpent Hills as to prevent them from alerting reinforcements to the company’s presence.
The knights, reckless with overconfidence, pursued the fleeing scouts deeper into the hills until they seemed to vanish into the earth itself. The Serpent Hills were an unfamiliar, twisting maze of rock formations, caves, and pathways that soon proved too be to daunting to navigate, and the company found themselves lost and unable to collect their bearings. Something felt unmistakably wrong about the craggy, claustrophobic environment. Tunnels gave way to large open areas that seemingly went nowhere, backtracking never led to the expected destination, Rocky terrain slopped and turned back on itself in seemingly impossible ways and Vermilion Company found themselves now completely abandoning their thoughts of pursuit, thinking only of how to escape this labyrinth of stone and sand. Beyond just the physical disorientation everyone felt, Aradaine noted that their connection to their magics felt somehow diminished, but was unable to dwell on this feeling as the company grew ever more lost.
Eventually, what was perceived as the scouts of their original pursuit were seen darting from path to path, around corners and through tunnels. Having no other options, the company followed these shadows as best as they could, distinctly aware that they were being led.
Through several more winding paths and passages, Aradaine and his comrades found themselves in the middle of an large, almost amphitheater-like basin, seemingly with no other discernible egress save for the one they had just passed through. As they turned to attempt to backtrack, they found their was suddenly blocked buy a several dozen Yuan-Ti, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
A sound, not unlike the wind, began to slowly crawl around the company. Slowly, deliberately, the same sound began to repeat, over and over again, emanating from all directions until the cacophonous din grew so loud that all other sound died out. In the waning light, Aradaine and the knights looked about the rocky grotto and began to see the source of the sounds slowly slither into view around and above them on the stony ledges, their cold reptilian eyes staring balefully down, their fang-filled mouths hissing ever louder. There were seemingly over one hundred Yuan-Ti of various forms surrounding Vermilion Company, and without warning they struck!
At first only a few serpents charged at the knights, and these were dispatched quickly as swords and spells danced out at each approaching creature. The company had taken up a ring formation and worked in concert with one another flawlessly against the scaly tide, striking down the first wave of attackers while sustaining only a few casualties of their own. The Yuan-Ti, sent another, larger force for a second assault and once more, Aradaine and his comrades held their assailants back though their mastery of magic and melee, but not without cost. Several more knights fell under the venomous blades of the snake-men, and the company closed ranks over their fallen allies and prepared for another sortie.
The Yuan-Ti are a clever race. Far more clever than their appearance belies. Having now tested these humans and learning all that they needed to know of their abilities and prowess in battle, the order was delivered through scent to put an end to their sport. The Yuan-Ti unleashed their Mage Slayers upon the warriors. Trained in the arts of the arcane, a Mage Slayer could employ wizardry in combat much the the same as an Eldritch Knight could, but these Mage Slayers had a much different approach to facing down such a large group of magic users.
A much larger wave than the previous two rushed forward from all sides against the knights. Aradaine steeled himself for the next exchange and ordered several different spells to be cast against the approaching onslaught. As arcane bolts of lightning and magical fires leaped out from the company, Aradaine watched in disbelief as the spells withered and died as they approached the Yuan-Ti. Another volley was ordered, Aradaine himself casting an offensive spell that once again dissipated harmlessly at the rapidly advancing horde. It was then that Aradaine realized all to late that these Yuan-Ti possessed a fierce and cold intelligence that he had gravely underestimated.
Whether it was an enchantment placed upon their armor and weapons, or a diabolical use of the spell itself, these creatures had found a way to cast Anti-Magic around themselves, and they broke upon Vermilion Company as an unstoppable wave of death. Cut off completely from their magical abilities, the valiant knights fought with all of the skill and honor that their collective centuries of training had prepared them for.
It was not enough.
Vermilion Company were utterly decimated against the unending surge of Yuan-Ti. One after another knights fell to blade and fang until only a scant few remained. Aradaine stood back-to-back with his remaining allies, ready to die by their side. In what he knew were his last moments, slashing wildly into the slithering mass of destruction that now encroached upon his every view, Aradaine felt sinuous, steel-like coils of muscle wrap themselves around his legs while clawed leathery fingers clamped down on him from all directions, restraining him like a vice. He looked around to see that the five or so remaining knights had also been grappled and were being held rather than killed and confusion gripped him.
All went quiet. Aradaine watched as the sea of serpentine warriors slowly began to part, and a creature the likes of which he had never dared to believe truly existed began to inch it’s way toward the captive Knight-Commander. It was far larger than the other Yuan-Ti, with a huge, thick body of nearly twenty or more feet, massively-muscled arms with three clawed fingers that could eviscerate a man like paper, and atop it’s frame were six different viperous heads. Twelve slitted sets of eyes all locked on Aradaine, who could do nothing but stare back.
As it stopped in front of him, the Anathema flicked a forked tongue from each if it’s six mouths at Aradaine and then stood motionless, as if sizing him up. Though in truth only a few seconds passed, years went by as Aradaine waited for some sign from the creature that had stepped from out of his darkest nightmares. Two of the outer-most heads made the slightest of gestures and abruptly, the snakes other prisoners were forced to move by their captors, manhandled into place between Aradaine and the Anathema, which had moved backward, never taking it’s eyes from his.
It was then that the creature spoke. All six mouths speaking as one, each a slight variation in pitch, creating an unsettling sensation as it said simply one word.
“Watch.”
Without warning the Yuan-Ti holding the last remaining members of Vermilion Company began to tear the knights apart. Aradaine’s scream of rage and revulsion was caught in his throat as he helplessly witnessed the men and women who’d entrusted their lives in him be brutally murdered and devoured by the serpents, their cries of agony threatening to drive Aradaine mad with grief. He pleaded to Siamorphe to end this horror, but the only answer he received was more death as he was forced to look upon the disgusting display until at last, the screams fell silent, and Vermilion Company was no more.
Now, at the end, the thought of dying a welcomed release from the terror of his surroundings, Aradaine thought of his father. He thought of how ashamed he would be in his son, who had recklessly cost The Order so much with the loss of his comrades. The loss of his friends. The loss of his family.
He shifted his gaze back to the six-headed abomination before him, and waiting patiently for the end. The great serpent idled forward, gracefully picking up Aradain’s sword as it approached. All six mouths once again spoke in unison.
“You are not the first,” it’s forked tongues tasting the air between the two, “see that you are the last.”
At first Aradaine didn’t even feel the blade slide into him as the creature spoke. It was only when he attempted to respond that was he was immediately wracked with pain. Looking down he could see that the Anathema had completely run him through, but the impalement was well-placed. Not a mortal wound if treated, but if not, a slow and painful death usually accompanied such an injury.
Aradaine began passing in and out of consciousness as he was dragged along by two Yuan-Ti. Eventually reaching their intended destination, the serpents tossed Aradaine from the very entrance that he and his company had entered only hours ago. It was now nightfall and with no sense of direction, and barely any light to see by, Aradaine began to crawl along the ground, clutching at his side as he slowly bled into the cold wet grass beneath him.
A memory struck him, and he reached inside a hidden pouch sewn within his jerkin. The Yuan-Ti had taken most of his gear, but of this they did not know to steal. Shaking fingers fumbled to grasp the small vial concealed within and finally finding purchase, produced a small potion of healing. Aradaine struggled to break the wax seal but was finally able to drink the draught and waited for the effects to to sweep over him as it had so many times before. He continued to wait, and wait even still. Nothing happened. Realization came slowly, and he cursed the vile serpent-men and their cunning. The spell that had robbed Aradaine of his magic had so too rendered the potion, a magical item by nature, nothing but useless liquid.
He cast aside the vial angrily and slumped to the ground, replaying the horrors of the day while trying to martial the strength and resolve to move. He’d managed to position himself up against a rock and began to take stock of his surroundings, feeling himself starting to slip away again into unconsciousness. He could see only a scant few yards in any direction, and had no idea where any direction even was. As he began drift off yet again, he saw a shadowy movement to his side, and heard what sounded like an indiscernible whisper, answered by another murmur, just at the edge of hearing.
Aradaine leaned his head back and a wave of acceptance lapped over him. If the Yuan-Ti had decided to instead return and finish him off, rather than send him into the wilds to serve a message, then so be it. It was after all, exactly what he deserved. This time, as the call to fall from the world beckoned, he allowed himself to slip away, only vaguely aware as he blacked out that a hand had reached out to grab him.
Aradaine awoke screaming. Once more the images of Vermilion Company’s final moments fueled his nightmares. It had been nearly a month since that horrible night, and every night from then had been the same. What little sleep he he was afforded was haunted by the deaths of his friends and their murderers. He began to rise slowly from the makeshift cot and looked around to find himself alone within the primitive dwelling.
The night of the attack, in what he’d assumed were to be his final moments, two elves had happened upon him and carried him back to their dwelling inside of a small, but well hidden cave bordering along the Marsh of Chelimber. The elves, a male and a female, tended to his wounds and cared for him as he recovered. They never offered their names, even when pressed, saying simply that outcasts no longer required names. Who they were and how and why they came to dwell in such a dangerous place remained a mystery to Aradaine, but he was grateful for their timely assistance. Tortured as it was, he owed the couple his life. A stab of guilt crept over his mind at that thought. Why should he have survived? To what end?
After a time, when he was well enough to make the journey, the elven couple escorted Aradaine back through Southwood, and parted ways as the trees gave way to the open road. He traveled on foot to Secomber, and from there booked passage down the Delimbiyr River to Daggerford, and then up the Trade Way, finally returning to Waterdeep over three months from when he had set out a lifetime ago.
Weeks had gone by after the last surviving member of Vermilion Company returned to The Order. Aradaine had been forced to recount his tale on an almost daily basis to the nobles and his superior officers, and every night he relived the abhorrent events a clearly as if he was standing there once again. It was decided by the ruling council to grant the Knight-Commander a release from his service, holding that his oath to The Order had been fulfilled, an honor typically reserved for knights who had fallen in battle. The Order knew that though Aradaine had returned to Waterdeep, in truth he had fallen with his comrades that day.
Ten years had now passed since his return and Aradaine struggled to find purpose and meaning in his civilian life. Though he still retained his rank as Knight-Commander, he was no longer an active member of The Order of the Silver Chalice. He had grown cold to the machinations of nobles, playing their strategic games with the lives of good men and women who had put their faith into a deity that cared only for worth of one’s bloodline rather than the worth of their deeds. Eventually the nightmares abated, but never stopped completely, still occasionally invading the former Knight-Commander’s sleep, particularly near the anniversaries of that gruesome day.
Over the last few years, he’d allowed himself to once again take up training in the weaponry of his former life and practiced daily, finding solace in ways of the sword and shield. Though his martial skill began to slowly return to its former prowess, whether blocked by some lingering effects of the Yuan-Ti Mage Slayers, or due to an subconscious cause rooted much deeper within himself, Aradaine’s skill with magic had yet to return.
Now, growing tired of a directionless existence, Aradaine searches for a new cause in which to rally behind.
Aradaine carries a magical sword which he calls Silmerána - a +1 silvered, Moon-Touched longsword.