Thesius
The Imperial Paladin
Everyone has their secrets. Skeletons in the closet, something they wish to keep in the dark. For the Vansiere family, these secrets are darker than most. Centuries ago, in the second era, there was a man, Caspian Vansiere, first of his name, who made a deal with forces that no mortal should ever think of, never mind speak with. However, Caspian was a vain and foolish man, who desired power and beauty above all else.
So, on a dark and stormy night, he sacrificed a dozen of the most beautiful elves and bretons he could capture. A pact was struck, and Caspians' wish was granted. He was transformed into a wondrous fusion of elf and man, above even the most beautiful of the breton people. He was granted a silver tongue, knowledge of the current lords and their weaknesses, and with that power, he carved out a small but formidable kingdom in north west Highrock, surrounded by mountains and forests.
The depravity of Caspian Vansierre, now a lord with deadly arcane power, knowledge and despicable desires, knew no limits. Summoning foul creatures from the depths of oblivion, and bringing the dead back into horrific unlife. Stone by stone, Castle Vansierre was built high in the mountains. Screams and mad cackling could be heard among the dark forests and craggy peaks for leagues around.
However, the castle was not quite secluded enough. Many lords, enraged by the abduction and slaughter of their people, formed a mighty alliance, lead, strangely enough, by Caspians' bastard son, Moran Vansierre. He led a grand army against the horrors the lord of castle Vansierre had summoned. It was Moran who drove his bastard sword through the heart of his cackling, insane father, on the highest tower of the castle.
Though the lord is dead, many creatures not slain or banished scattered, and the forces of the allies were too spent to give chase. On that bloody day, Moran Vansierre, now lord of the castle, swore a fateful oath: neither he nor his children would rest until the region was cleared of the foulness his mad father had summoned.
That was several generations ago. For many years, the proud sigil of house Vansierre, a silver crescent moon on a sable field, has flown over the once bloodied towers and gatehouse. The current lord, Horace Vansierre, a noble templar and father to many children, maintains his ancestors oath. He had several children, with the beautiful lady Vivian, his wife. He rose his offspring, male and female alike, as hunters of evil and upholders of the law, by any means necessary. When they came of age, he sent them throughout Tamriel, to hunt foulness wherever it may be found.
But now, he summons his children home. One by one, they comply, heading not directly to the castle, but rather to the small village of Crossmore, perhaps half a days travel from the castle itself. However, it is a rainy and cold day, at the beginning of autumn, and the paths are not as safe as they once were. The siblings gather at the Restless Goblin inn, having not seen one another in several years, for some even longer. This, is where our story begins.
So, on a dark and stormy night, he sacrificed a dozen of the most beautiful elves and bretons he could capture. A pact was struck, and Caspians' wish was granted. He was transformed into a wondrous fusion of elf and man, above even the most beautiful of the breton people. He was granted a silver tongue, knowledge of the current lords and their weaknesses, and with that power, he carved out a small but formidable kingdom in north west Highrock, surrounded by mountains and forests.
The depravity of Caspian Vansierre, now a lord with deadly arcane power, knowledge and despicable desires, knew no limits. Summoning foul creatures from the depths of oblivion, and bringing the dead back into horrific unlife. Stone by stone, Castle Vansierre was built high in the mountains. Screams and mad cackling could be heard among the dark forests and craggy peaks for leagues around.
However, the castle was not quite secluded enough. Many lords, enraged by the abduction and slaughter of their people, formed a mighty alliance, lead, strangely enough, by Caspians' bastard son, Moran Vansierre. He led a grand army against the horrors the lord of castle Vansierre had summoned. It was Moran who drove his bastard sword through the heart of his cackling, insane father, on the highest tower of the castle.
Though the lord is dead, many creatures not slain or banished scattered, and the forces of the allies were too spent to give chase. On that bloody day, Moran Vansierre, now lord of the castle, swore a fateful oath: neither he nor his children would rest until the region was cleared of the foulness his mad father had summoned.
That was several generations ago. For many years, the proud sigil of house Vansierre, a silver crescent moon on a sable field, has flown over the once bloodied towers and gatehouse. The current lord, Horace Vansierre, a noble templar and father to many children, maintains his ancestors oath. He had several children, with the beautiful lady Vivian, his wife. He rose his offspring, male and female alike, as hunters of evil and upholders of the law, by any means necessary. When they came of age, he sent them throughout Tamriel, to hunt foulness wherever it may be found.
But now, he summons his children home. One by one, they comply, heading not directly to the castle, but rather to the small village of Crossmore, perhaps half a days travel from the castle itself. However, it is a rainy and cold day, at the beginning of autumn, and the paths are not as safe as they once were. The siblings gather at the Restless Goblin inn, having not seen one another in several years, for some even longer. This, is where our story begins.