Alt-Magic Campaign Character Spotlight: Abraxas Silvermane

AbraxasWho is Abraxas Silvermane you ask? Why you care, I know not. I only know that you read this now, and I know that you shall continue to read until there is nothing left to be read.

Very well, I will tell you my story. I am Abraxas Silvermane, son of Ladonna Kilraven and apparently Adair Silvermane, the father I never knew. I’ve learned little about my parents, but I used to think I took after my father, now I suppose I truly do take after him, the real him. But I’m…getting off track.

My mother and my father loved each other I believe, at least by what I’ve been able to find out. I almost wonder if this love engendered their betrayal. Yes, they were betrayed, I don’t know what became of my father, but I know my mother was banished, banished into the realm of Ravenloft, dread domain of Vagnarok Lokigrim.

When Ladonna was imprisoned, she was with child, and I was born in the Realm of Shadow not long after. My mother taught me rudimentary magicks, and taught me something more important: that my father was a Vispanian knight. He was a noble, honest man, she said, and that she, ‘loved him with all her heart’. Did she lie about all of it? Recent events have led me to rethink many things about my past and stories I was told.

Mother died when I was but a young child, perhaps five years of age. I believe Ladonna would have survived if not for me, for ever since my birth she had been weak. I stole her strength; You might say I killed my mother when I entered the world.


I was found by the Vistani a week after she passed. They were bards, minstrels, storytellers and loresmiths. Oh, these folk were my people, I truly knew. They were led by Ichorus for a time. He was a wise man, and knew enough about magic to teach me what my mother could not.

Even now, as I close my eyes, I’m there: Kosmo and I are playing cards whilst discussing Falion’s latest jest. I look up, and see Ichorus teaching magical theory revolving around hypnosis and intellect devourers. I play my card, Kosmo wins yet insists that he not take my money. He says I need to buy my girlfriend something pretty. I wonder what something pretty would look like but, soon realize a spellbook is not what Kosmo meant. I rise from the table, pacing, desperately trying to think of something suitable for the girl I love. So enthralled by the thought, I didn’t even notice Anna until I nearly crashed into her. She laughs, I laugh, and, I… I don’t remember, I’ve opened my eyes now.

annaThe reason I left the Vistani, my people, is because… My girlfriend died. She was murdered by very bad people, worshipers of the demon lord Graz’zt. I remember a rainy day, Anna and I were walking along the winding streets of Barovia when a hooded man blocked our path. His face was twisted into a grin as the other cultists descended upon us. I tried to defend Anna but I was…too weak. I knew no spell that could stop them. She died, for lack of a better word.

I was saved by Kosmo, though I curse him for it. I wish that I would have died in that moment so that I would have ascended with my sweet Anna. Kosmo and I held a quiet funeral for her, and after, it was like the world didn’t even care that she was gone.

Kosmo left then, my last remaining friend. He traveled to Enochia, said I should do the same. Ichorus had already died, slain by the assassin that brought down Lord Vagnarok, the same that would later send Kosmo to the grave. I had nothing left but anger and rage in the Shadowfell, so I pledged my soul to the one thing left that I could stand for. I lived, no I live for but one true goal — to see each and every Cultist of Graz’zt put down like dogs, and then, to see to the annihilation of Graz’zt and all demonkind. And the only being in the universe who cared enough to help me do just that was Asmodeus.

So now you know my story, well, most of it anyway. The rest you can figure for yourself if you’re of a mind to. When I came to Enochia I realized time worked differently here. One thousand years had passed since my mother was banished. My father was long dead. I have nothing but memories and a pathetic magic that couldn’t even save that which I valued most. So I have become a scholar, a traveling illusionist, and an arcanist… searching for something, anything that would lead me to a place where I belong, a place like I had found once long before…in another world and another time.

Lair of Ocasta

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