DJORN - Beasts of Aquila

Some say he was a king, others tell tales of him coming from Hell. When I knew him he was a priest. Before that, a pirate. I guess it never really mattered where he came from, or what he looked like. In the end he was always there. A new face, a different voice, but the same will. Even if he didn’t know who he was, the eternals of the world did. These incarnations of the man, we believed, started back at the beginning of time. None of us knew how it was going to end, or if it even could. I’m sure he didn’t mind.

The year was 1343, and the black plague ravished Europe. Though there existed the spreading influence of the church, the dead and the dying did little to offer their faith to the powers of light and, in their final moments, condemn the evils of their world. Hopelessness ruled the day and as goodness faded from across the globe there rode a man from the east, carrying the devil on his back and promising compromise. 

Once a holy man from the shadowed valleys of the land across the sea, Djorn, a champion of shadows, had come unto Aquila. With him this famed seeker of light brought warlock magics from across the world and the sting of two silver rapiers, crafted by his own hands. Catching word that evil had found its way over the ocean, Djorn sailed to seek it out, as the betterment of the world was his only mission. One that he swore, from birth, to fulfill until his dying breath. 

As the whispers had said, Djorn carried his swordsmanship with great speed, for no one could best the blows of his rapiers and the swiftness with which they motioned. It was his talent with the sword that brought him, beaconed to the throne of, Anthaniel, the Lord of Aquila. And it was here that the lord of the realm offered up a great sum of gold to Djorn, and asked him to travel south and confront the ravenous beasts that were terrorizing his kingdom. 

Djorn agreed, on the condition that he not be paid. However, he took exactly two gold coins. These, he said, he would lay on the eyes of the first monster he killed and the image would serve as a warning to the other demons of the land. With haste Djorn headed south, to the Shores of Aquila, to confront the Nuckelavee. 

This beast was the skinned form of a horse with a flesh-less upper half of a human fused to its back. The horse’s mouth held fangs as the being bled upon a hill by the water’s rocks. When Djorn approached he did with little caution, anticipating the swift and vicious nature of the creature. The Nuckelavee roared with a scream that shattered the sky. 

Clouds formed and rainfall followed as the steed charged on Djorn. Djorn, leaping from his horse, revealed his silver rapiers and calmly stepped forward as the Nuckelavee gained speed on him. The creature carried a great white khopesh, carved from bone, and held it back behind its head, preparing to swing once Djorn was close enough. Djorn took a stance as the Nuckelavee swung and jumped. 

Stepping on the tip of the khopesh, Djorn used one of his rapiers to pierce the chest of the horse portion of the creature, and then again, into the chest of the human portion of the monster did the second sword strike. The holy silver against the demonic muscle of the creature burned it like salt on an open wound. The beast cried out in horror. When Djorn’s feet touched ground again, the Nuckelavee staggered and dropped its weapon before stumbling to the ground. 

As the beast took its final breath, Djorn looked on to see the two blows he had landed on the creature. Both blows piercing the two hearts of the Nuckelavee. Removing the gold from his pocket, Djorn turned the head of the human portion of the creature, closed its eyes and placed one coin on each. After preforming the sign of the cross Djorn stood and looked to the skies. As imps crawled around in the shadows around him, Djorn made a decree. 

Djorn told the imps to remember the defeat of the Nuckelavee and to return to their masters, stories in hand. Djorn demanded the demons flee Aquila, or suffer ultimate death at his hands and the righteousness of god. The imps, cowering and snarling under their own weakness to do anything in retaliation, fled to the hiding places of their masters to spread word of Djorn’s arrival. The arrival that would come to bring the new age of shadows to its knees.