Eronir Full Backstory (Patreon)

You go to Eronir when you want to listen to ghost stories. If he likes you, he will tell the darkest, most terrible secrets for free. If he doesn’t, well, his price is high. He probably won’t like you. He doesn’t like most people, and he doesn’t usually like to talk much, either. He just likes to study dead things. He also likes history, although you can’t trust everything that he says about that. His memories are too old and dusty to be relied on. But the ghost stories are pure gold, the result of hundreds of years of listening to the whispers from the other side. He likes the sounds that echo from the shadows of the Abyss. Little by little, he is losing his knowledge of how to manipulate the shadows and gaining an understanding of how to manipulate the spirits of the dead in its place. The reason is simple, a part of who he was even before coming to the Blood, a consequence of his birth on cursed lands. His home didn’t really belong to his family; it was owned by creatures of the night, cold-hearted monsters, necromancers: the Cappadocians.

His family made a deal with their Family. The reason behind that contract has been lost, but its terms decreed that Eronir, as a firstborn, was to be sent to the vampires once he come of age. There was precious little love between him and his father, and certainly not enough to make his father break faith with their undead patrons. For all their conflict, Eronir loved his home. Or better yet, he loved her. Laura, his cousin, had the love of every man and woman who crossed her path. She played with their hearts, but knew that deep down, her own heart belonged to Eronir. Eronir’s fate seemed written; to be a ghoul and slave of his Cappadocian masters. But he broke free. Perhaps it was the memory of Laura, perhaps it was his inner strength or simply pure stubbornness. He didn’t want to serve, but his experiences with the Cappadocians changed him forever. He had witnessed immortality and power beyond comprehension, he had seen the dead arise from their graves, dark rituals, spirits and formless things full of forbidden knowledge. He wanted all those things, yet he was torn apart by doubt.

First, though, he felt driven to return home for his cousin, only to discover that she wasn’t there anymore. The Cappadocians had taken her as a servant in his place. He already had a hunger for power, and the Cappadocians’ act gave him an even better reason to look for it. It took months and a lot of research, but once Eronir set his mind on something, he never gave up. He traveled, following the stories of undead things, witches and anything resembling the creatures that he had met. There had to be more of them, he knew. But when at last he found another Cainite, it wasn’t a Cappadocian but a lonely and bloodthirsty Lasombra. Without much of a choice, Eronir convinced his sire that he was worth sparing, and they struck a deal. Curious about the fearless boy, the vampire Embraced him in exchanged for his services when needed. Once again, Eronir was bound to another’s will, this time by his own doing. But it didn’t matter. Now he had the power to free Laura, and he knew exactly what he had to do.

But Laura was no passive victim, no princess waiting to be saved. She was a strong woman, at least as fearless and power-hungry as Eronir himself. She didn’t run from the Cappadocians as he had; she chose to play a different game. She showed them her wits and her charm, her intelligence and her dedication to their cause. Having proved her worth to them many times over, she was Embraced into the Clan of Death. When they finally met, Laura blamed Eronir for failing to fulfil his duties to the Cappadocians and so condemning her to be taken in his place, but he argued that if she had a choice, she would not go back for her human life. And it was true. Both of them loved what they were. They also loved each other, but their relationship could never go back to what it had once been. Their hubris knew no limits. Simultaneously lovers and enemies, they plotted and studied together, fighting constantly. To this day, neither of them can remember how their final fight started, the one which ended in Laura’s Final Death. Laura has her version of the story and Eronir has his. But that wasn’t the end for someone who had learned the secrets of death. Moved by guilt, love, obsession and a dark curiosity, Eronir summoned her spirit back from the grave. Laura would forever be bound to Eronir. She witnessed everything and influenced everything that he did from then on. She is a jealous and disturbed wraith, but particularly well-versed in the occult. That’s something that serves both as an advantage and a disability for Eronir, and something that drives him to uncover more knowledge. Maybe one day he will be strong enough to bring her back. Eronir didn’t abandon his learning and alchemical experimentation following Laura’s death. He wasn’t inclined to self-hatred and mourning. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the pain of her absence, only that he didn’t know how to process it and reconcile himself to it.

Before he could take any decisions about his future, his sire Nicholas called upon him to fulfill his part of their bargain. Eronir was to make sure that certain pieces were in the right place on the board and certain problems would be dealt with. Some people had to die, no matter the cost, and better that they appear to be casualties of mortal warfare than of the schemes of the undead. And so, Eronir joined the First Crusade, an epic quest in which he met two other neonates, Lucca and Ralzen. All three were haunted by the same ghost: their sire’s iron hand. They began to help each other, hunting and fighting together, uncovering the mysteries that always seemed to surround their existence. Quickly realizing that together, they could handle problems which would be impossible for any of them to face alone, they forged a pack. One by one, they killed their sires and drank them dry. It was their first time committing diablerie, but not the last. Drunk with the delicious taste of power and elder blood, acknowledging no limits, their fame – or notoriety – began to become a dark legend. As the reputation of the dangerous and merciless pack spread far and wide, they decided to take advantage of the rumors surrounding them and offered themselves as mercenary soldiers of fortune to powerful Cainites, Sects, or even to the church. They accepted payment in gold or in blood. They were exorbitantly expensive either way, but they always got the job done. They didn’t always work together, but most of the time they worked towards the same goals.

In the beginning, theirs was a mutually parasitic relationship based on shared interests rather than affection, and Eronir often thought about stealing his compatriots’ blood, memories and strength. It would be easier to be alone. Razlen was a vicious and malicious Tzimisce and Eronir considered Vicissitude to be a disease that the clan carried. As for Lucca, he was too much of an egocentric self-indulgent prick even for a Lasombra. But in time, Eronir grew fonder of the others and realized that he liked their company. Like Eronir, Razlen was interested in items imbued with magic, which he cherished like a dragon’s treasure. Lucca shared his interested in the occult. They began to study Thaumaturgy together and even tried to create a bloodline, crafting and perfecting a new Discipline to its maximum potential. Though Eronir would never feel the same kind of love towards Razlen and Lucca that he did towards Laura, over the centuries he did learn to love them. Even so, his curiosity would sometimes push him to wander off on his own, perhaps disguised as a priestly seeker of secrets, perhaps hiding in some dark place as a hermit while he studied a forbidden book or worked on some dark ritual. He was fascinated by prophecies and was particularly obsessed with the Antediluvians. Many times, he tried to unearth traces and clues which might lead him to where one of these demigods was buried. He developed safer ways of committing Diablerie, dreaming of the night where he might test them on one of the Clan founders. Fearing that someone might one day eat his soul as he had eaten the souls of his victims, he forged symbols and runes that would protect him from that fate and tattooed them onto his body.

Eronir will never bend the knee to a Camarilla Prince, any more than he ever accepted his servitude to his sire or his slavery to the Family. He will never even consider joining the Inconnu. An anarchist before the word was even invented, his love of freedom and the growing darkness in his heart will together lead him to join the Sabbat.