Vel-Abheor

The greatest fighter in the known world may be found in the eastern city-state of Zul, alternately a vassal and rival of the sultanate of Mithra. Legends abound surrounding this near-mythic figure, who enters the arena with an iron mask sealed on his head. Some say he is a monster spawned from a viper pit, who drinks venom mixed with mother’s milk, living in the deepest cell of the castle dungeon, richly appointed with the treasures of enemy kingdoms, who only leaves to slay men and beasts in ritual blood sport that entertains the nobility and grants sorcerous strength to Zul’s warriors. Some say he is the spitting image of the elderly and robust King Olmeg, the child of a secret union with a foreign princess in his mercenary days before ascending the throne. Some say he is a political prisoner condemned to a grisly death, who succeeds in surviving every impossible trial, and will one day cast off his mask to lead the people of Zul in rebellion against the tyrant and place the true heir on the throne.

While these are, respectively, superstitious babble, smutty gossip and treasonous claptrap, they are also all true. The Iron Serpent of Zul, the most accomplished duelist in the world, is the secret child of the king and a lamia. In preparation to take the throne of Zul, the aging then-rebel sought out supernatural aid, and came to a deal with the lamia Sorrvudne. A powerful, ageless body, in exchange for a child, ripped from the womb of his lover, a rogue princess of Mithra, whom the official record lists as dying in one plague or another. The fetus, quickly dying, was incubated in a nest containing the egg of a cobra, viper, python, basilisk, and cockatrice, and in nine months, emerged with the strength of a grown man as an infant. Upon seeing his progeny, Olmeg had the child and its mother locked away. Conflicted, Olmeg keeps them both alive, sending the child to fight for his own profit out of hatred and shame, while keeping Sorrvudne locked in the dungeon, worrying that she should die, his wicked power and youth would abandon him.

He is correct to fear this. But he underestimates the child. His true name is Vel-Abheor, the sixth spawn of ambition. None but his mother know that name, and she hasn’t spoken to a human in fifteen years. But serpents tunnel between the stones of her cell, carrying messages to certain hellish allies. Vel-Abheor does not know his true nature, or his true face; the iron mask has been locked over his head as long as he can remember. But he has ambition to match his father. Years of whispered words are paying off, using loyalists to the old crown to build influence from his own cell. His guards are his closest allies, and have been promised lordships when he emerges to take the throne. A potent tactical mind lies behind that mask, for which freedom is not enough; he must have dominion.