The Adventures of the BMBH
A Rogue that owns a particularly nasty Dagger of Confirmed Evil.
The Supplemental Adventures of Vomitrius the Rogue!
Vomitrius awoke in the dark clutching his precious dagger to his chest, he promised himself he would never let anyone take it from him again, especially his so-called ‘friends."He found himself in a dank jail cell a kind of place Vomitrius was very familiar with at this point in his roguish life, except with one slight difference…it appeared to be suspended in space. Surrounding him were others; humans, yes, but also beings Vomitrius was unfamiliar with, beings from across the planes of every shape and size. A Human stepped forward, he explained that they were in a sort of magical prison of unknown origin, all of them had been brought there from their own far flung time and space. apparently some lesser god of order and justice or some such nonsense had brought them all together to live the rest of their wretched lives locked up in this cage. The only thread of similarity that could be ascertained of their “crimes” is that perhaps they overstepped their station as mortals. Vomitrius having just collapsed an entire plane of being onto itself thought that perhaps his comrades estimation was not very far off from the truth. one subject of interest to his fellow prisoners was why Vomitrius was allowed to keep his dagger when everyone else’s belongings seemed to have been stripped from them. Maybe this “god” wasn’t so powerful after all if he couldn’t even take his dagger. With this in mind Vomitrius set out to escape from a prison cell for what seemed like the hundredth time in his life. Days turned to weeks as Vomitrius methodically examined every inch of the cell looking for any weakness, anything he could use. Those who had been there for years made sure to vocalize the futility of it all incessantly and noisily. Despite his foolish cellmates, Vomitrius endeavored on, The mighty Vomitrius!, no prison has been able to hold him yet!…weeks turned to months, months to years.
Many years later, only an old man remains, his longs gray hair and beard barely hiding the fire that still remained in his eyes. His cellmates were long dead, old age having taken them. The man may be ancient by human standards but years upon years of training daily with his dagger, without fail had given him unmatched finesse and discipline with the implement. Daily meditative exercises had also allowed him complete control over its great evil. It’s absorbed souls now completely dominated and bent to his will. One day a day like any other, in these long harsh years, a man appeared. A great glowing shape of a man filling half of the cage with his majestic bulk. “So my captor finally shows his face” mumbled the old man “yes” said the god like being with his booming voice “I hope you have learned much in the way of repentance in your stay here, for your crimes committed.” “Oh yes” whispered the old man “I have learned much.” Before the last word dripped from his lips the white haired man launched himself upon the god, driving his dagger deep into its glowing flesh. “You fool!” cried the being through the blinding white light which erupted all around him. The old man completely consumed by the light saw and felt nothing for what seemed like an eternity, save for the feel of the familiar, comforting hilt of his dagger clenched within his withered old hands.
Vomitrius awoke, unchanged from the day that he sliced a whole through the shadowfell. He knew not how he got here, or why he felt like he had lived three lifetimes, his bones aching as if he hadn’t slept in years. He examined the dagger in his hands, it felt as though it was a part of him even more so than before. Although it was different this time; they were equals now, him and the dagger, Vomitrius did not crave it as he used to. An unexplainable sensation, simply, it was him and he was it, and for the second time he promised himself no one would be taking it from him ever again.