Damian Crowley: Part 1

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Damian Crowley: Part 1

Post  Jack Napier on Tue Apr 12, 2011 3:26 pm



Korvosa. There are worse cities in Golarion. Some more deprived, sinful, or foul… but not many. The story of Damian Crowley began here.


Aleister Crowley was a human agent for the infamous Hell Knights group that maintains law and order through an iron fist and diabolical allegiances. He was married to a lovely woman named Katrina. It wasn’t what you’d call a happy marriage. It wasn’t what you’d call a typical marriage, either. Aleister was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted and when he failed to find love by traditional means he acquired a beautiful trophy wife from an unknown group of abductors who were responsible for the disappearances of countless women from all races and backgrounds over the years. It was not uncommon for Chelaxian nobles to indulge in this horrendous trade.

As Aleister grew older, he had ambitions of immortalizing himself through an heir. He wanted a strong son to someday take high rank amongst the Hell Knights and make him proud. He was so obsessed with this idea that he would go to any length to ensure the desired result… even enlisting the help of a devil.

He thought he had it all figured out. “Grimluck,” as he called himself, was a devil involved with the Hell Knights for years. Aleister trained alongside this revered devil many times.

“I want an heir,” said Aleister. “A son beyond compare. Peerless amongst the Hell Knights.”

The devil’s terms were harsh, as they usually are in infernal dealings. His soul pledged to the devil eternally, and it was done.

After the birth of their son, Aleister was ecstatic and the marriage took an upswing. That is, until his son showed little promise of being a great Hell Knight. He was too thin and lacked the cruelty required. He spent much of his time playing games of “dress up” with the local girls when he should have been sparring with the other boys. He would come home with books written by playwrights and was more interested in painting and writing than swordplay. This made young Damian the victim of countless beatings from his father, teachers, and peers.

Aleister blamed his wife; her influence must have surely been the cause for their son’s weak nature. She was too soft, too encouraging of the boy’s foolish endeavours…. he took to beating her as well. The home environment became a hellish place. How could he have traded his soul to the devil for such a worthless son: a son that was quickly ruining his reputation amongst the Hell Knights.

The devil had tricked him. He should’ve known that deals with devils rarely go as planned. He became more and more angry with each passing day.

Blessed with the devil’s own good looks and charm, Damian did very well for himself outside of the influence of the Hell Knights and his father. He spent less and less time at home, favouring the streets and the company of friends and strangers to his own home. He worried for his mother’s sake, but felt powerless to save her from his father.

He conspired to make an escape and encouraged his mother to join him, but she was reluctant. Years of abuse had taken her spirit… and she knew that Aleister would never let them go. Still, Damian persisted. This was no life for them. He wanted to be like the characters in the plays he’d read, seen, and occasionally performed in. He would save his mother and escape the clutches of his tyrannical father. It was hard though; his father and the Hell Knights were all ready too suspicious of his actions

One day, when he felt he had just about put together the perfect plan of escape, the unthinkable happened. He came home to find his mother lying at the bottom of the stairs; body bruised, neck broken. Dead. His father was drunk and passed out at the table.

Damian felt anger rise and a power surging through him that he had never experienced before. A kitchen knife flew across the room and stuck itself in the table beside his father. He found himself reaching for the knife, but was taken aback.

What was happening to him? Did that knife really just fly across the room? Was he really about to strike his father dead? Would that be ample revenge for what the man had done? For what he had always done? To simply relieve him of this joke of a life? No… certainly not. He would let the bastard live with himself; alone with his guilt and shame.

But was that enough? He was torn… he knew his mother wouldn’t approve of murdering his father, even if he deserved it. He thought for a moment then set into action.

He forged a “suicide note” in his father’s hand-writing (a skill he’d been honing for quite some time now) confessing everything he had done (and a few things he hadn’t for good measure.) He grabbed a few of his belongings and snuck out, setting a small fire using his father’s alcohol and still burning cigarette to capture the neighbours' attention in the process.

Father would have a hard time explaining everything now, and his career would effectively be ruined. The Hell Knights shunned weakness and even the thought of suicide was heresy. The inevitable humiliation made Damian feel better about leaving things as they were. Really, had he killed his father, the Hell Knights would be coming for him. At least this way he could buy himself some time before anyone would come looking for him.

He snuck away and hasn't looked back.


The following few years have seen Damian travelling, and living a life that isn’t exactly lawful. He has enjoyed the freedom involved in living under new sobriquets in each place he visits and playing different people. He has taken to what most would call "stealing" but insists is simply "treasure hunting" to make ends meet. He loves working over corrupt rich people, or simple brutish types that use their muscles rather than their wits. He has used his good-looks and charm to sample what he would refer to as the finest treasures Varisa has to offer. All the while he has been trying to make peace with his past and understand the mysterious powers brewing inside him that haunt his dreams.


At the beginning of the campaign, he has taken on the name and guise of "Jack Napier" in the city of Sandpoint where a crowd has gathered for the rededication of a church. He is uncomfortably low on coin and more than a little bored with the ceremony.
Jack Napier

Posts : 114
Join date : 2011-04-12
Location : Sandpoint/Magnimar

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