Character Biography - Bane

The Black Lord, The Black Hand, the Lord of Darkness

Bane, the Lord of Darkness, has conquered death itself, returning to the world to give dark inspiration to a thousand intrigues, to foment fear and hatred in civilized lands, and to reassure the common mortal that tyranny, through it may suffer occasional defeat, will never die. Though Bane transcended mortality centuries ago, his primary goal remains notably human -- he seeks nothing short of the total domination of Faerun. When his servants sit upon the throne of every land, when commoners serve their masters in fear for their very lives, and when altruism and hope have been erased from the world, only then will Bane rest. Until that dark day, however, the Black Hand has eternity to hatch demented plots and vile intrigues.

Bane has a small, but loyal following in the Great Realms, spurred by his appearance some years ago.  Followers of Bane hold very few formal religious rituals; prayers for spells at midnight and perhaps on the eve of a major battle.  Worshipers revel in offering sacrifices to the Black Lord, often of intelligent or innocent beings, usually upon an altar of black basalt or obsidian.  They open worship Bane, and use fear and coercion to demand respect. The recent disappearance of this diety from the Great Realms has not had much of an impact on his religion thus far.

Black Marble

He woke, blinking in the complete darkness. 

Flexing his arms, his heavy bracers scraped against the armrests of the large stone chair he was sitting upon.  His breast and legplates followed suit as he leaned forward to rise.

"What happened.. ?"

The lack of light however, did not mean a lack of sound..  The room was small,  a mere arm's reach in each direction.  Reaching up instinctively, he grasped at the necklace around his neck, it was.. The symbol of his god..

"Where am I?"

Sliding his gauntleted hand over the wall of the room, he felt at runes, but could find no purchase for a grip.  Frustration was slowly building, he slammed his fist against the wall.. It did not give an inch..

"But .. I...  I am loyal."

The runes he had felt burned with blinding green light, he closed his eyes as a loud explosion of shattering stones sounded before him and a whooshing of wind pulled swiftly at his body. 

He opened his eyes, his vision was blurred, and slowly it cleared.  The wall that had stood before him was strewn about the floor and the room was filled  with a cloud of dust, swirling up towards the high ceiling.

As the dust settled in each direction, the black stone of the octagonal chamber became more visible.  Looking back from where he came, he saw that he'd been  sitting on a massive black throne emblazoned with a black fist grasping at green rays.  Looking forward, he was reminded as to his purpose..

Standing thirty feet above him on a black marble pedestal was a statue of his god, the one true god of hatred, fear, and tyranny.. Bane, the Black Lord.

Slowly he spoke the words as he reached up to cluch at his necklace..

"I am loyal."