A Blade To Scour The World: The Tale of Don Rojo

 (originally published April 5th, 2018)

Part 1. The Prisoner. The earliest connected memory of the man, who would one day be called Don Rojo, has is the brand; seared into his forehead, scorching away all previous thoughts in a haze of pain. Before this, he recalls only being taken and imprisoned, returned to his cell to await his fate and gradually begin to piece together what had happened.

He was the captive of ‘Bloody’ Jaq Harkwell and his crew, a notorious band of cut-throats and marauders. However, it wasn’t Jaq who had ordered him marked and imprisoned. The pirates had done so on the orders of a mysterious cloaked figure who paid the murderous band of raiders in large quantities of rare uncut gemstones and handfuls of brassy-looking red-gold coins. These coins, while quite cool to the touch, hissed and steamed in water and were stamped in a language nobody could seem to reckon. This mysterious robed man was only ever referred to (and always in hushed tones) as The Iron Priest. As the days passed, the prisoner waited and listened, and came to know the Iron Priest’s terrible plan.

He learned there was a prophecy, of A Man Who Would Become A Red Blade That Would Scour The World. The Iron Priest saw this prophecy as an opportunity to render ultimate service to his dark and cruel lord, The Master Of Iron and Keeper of The Infernal Forge - The Armourer of Hell. It was written that, through the darkest and vilest magic, a diabolical scarlet sword could be forged. Whoever wielded it would be seized with an unquenchable bloodlust. He would be invincible in battle and would lead the Legions of Hell in a bloody tide that would sweep like a tide of blood across the face of Golarion. The final step in forging this blade was that it had to be tempered in the heart’s blood of a particular sacrifice – an unshriven youth of perfected blood. The young man realized that he was to be that sacrifice.

As the time of the sacrifice drew near, so too did the enemies of Bloody Jaq and his even more sinister associate. A unit of guardsmen attacked Jaq’s secret cavern headquarters. As the battle raged through Jaq’s hidden lair, a local tribal shaman snuck off to rescue The Sacrifice. The spirits he revered had made known to him the terrible ceremony being planned and led him here so that he might stop it. In the melee, the shaman spirited the youth away.

Part 2. The Vessel. When the young man regained consciousness, he found himself in the strange hut of the shaman, Boatman Jonn, safe for the moment, but not for long. Tragically, Jonn had come too late to prevent the Sacrifice being branded. He knew that soon, the servants of The Iron Priest would come, drawn on and led to their prey by the unholy power of the arcane sigil. Unable to destroy or remove it, he struck on a third option… the brand could be overwritten, concealed behind another.

He summoned forth all the spirits he could… The Dream Spider, The Storm Singer, Great Mother of Turtles, The Silent Traveller, The Lord of Doors, The Bride Veiled In Tears… but each, in turn, said no. They would not cast their lot against the Master of Iron.

Finally, one agreed. The Red Knight, El Caballero Rojo, the righteous blade of fury and bloody-handed scourge of evil. If, he said, there was to be a Red Blade That Would Scour The World, let it he HIS red blade, and let it scour the world of evil. The Red Knight invested a measure of his spirit into a Crimson Leather Mask, which the Sacrifice would use to conceal the Master of Iron’s mark, and gave him a new name, Don Rojo. As long as he wears the mask, he is concealed from the Master of Iron’s agents. However, because the Master of Iron is the Armourer of Hell, Don Rojo is abjured from using any object forged as a weapon, especially if he uses a weapon to kill another. If he does, the Master of Iron will know his location immediately, and his servants will follow fast on the trail.

Knowing that the Master’s servants would be frantically seeking them out, Boatman Jonn and the newly-named Don Rojo fled quickly, burning the shack behind them. 
Part 3. The Student. In the following months, they moved, sought by the Master’s men and his Iron Priest. Soon, Jonn realized that, barring the use of weapons, Don Rojo would need to learn to fight with his hands. He was a strong and healthy young man, and he moved like a warrior, but he would have to learn more. As they travelled, Don Rojo learned to catch fish and game with his hands, to strike fast, and true. He climbed trees and walked branches, clambered amongst vines and leaped from stone to stone across the water, to become sure-footed and agile. And he hauled the shaman’s boat across long stretches of earth, to become strong and sturdy. Eventually, after an interminable amount of time, they arrived in a sinister hollow, framed in massive, gnarled trees and wreathed in an acrid, foul smelling mist. “In the last few weeks,” explained, Boatman Jonn, “I have tried to make you strong. Here, we will discover if you are strong enough.”

Don Rojo entered the Hollow, wading thigh-deep in oily black water until he could no longer see Boatman Jonn. Then, without warning, a great black shape lunged up at him, churning the black water white with its fury… neither serpent nor crocodile, and yet having aspects of both, it seized Don Rojo and tried to drag him down into the swamp.

For what seemed like hours, the young man and the terrible creature grappled, each gaining a momentary advantage and then losing it again. Terrible jaws clashed and red eyes gleamed, while steel-like fingers searched for purchase on moss-slick scales, and lungs burned with effort, until finally, the creature sank beneath the waters, and Don Rojo hauled himself to the muddy shore.

After catching his breath, he asked, “What would have happened if the creature had killed me?” “You would have died,” replied the shaman, “And the Master of Iron would have had to sift through piles of monster shit for his sacrifice. “Make no mistake. You will need to be strong for this life. If you are not strong enough to beat this monster, you will not be strong enough for this life, and it is better for you to die now. Better for you and me, for all the world. Now drink this.”

Part 4. The Traveller. After drinking the bitter draft, Don Rojo dreamed. He had visions of the days before he had been branded and his memories stolen. He remembered fighting on board a boat… his father’s… his uncle’s? He had been a gifted swordsman, apparently, light on his feat and able to keep his balance on a storm-wracked ship’s deck, or in wildly swaying rigging. He remembered glimpses of faces, and snatches of voices, names and places.

He awoke days later, in a flophouse in a disreputable island port. “Your dreams,” explained Boatman Jonn, “are the key to your past… and the door to your future. They will tell you where you have been and show you where you must go. You have a big destiny, and spirits help me, so now do I.”

Eventually, the two boarded the first of many ships, which would take them to one of the places from Don Rojo’s dreams – the city port of Korvasa. However, tragedy struck when, on the last leg of their journey, their ship was attacked by Sea Raiders. Don Rojo and the crew battled the pirates and drove them off, but Boatman Jonn had died during the melee. His body has been swept overboard, and his herbs, powders and potions scattered across the deck.

Now in Korvosa, but with no guide and no way to access his memories, Don Rojo is lost. During the days, he wanders, seemingly aimless, through the city’s streets, doing what he can to help whoever he can, and by nights he props up the bar at The Golden Goblin Tavern, downing flagons of ale and hoping that somewhere in the city is someone who knows what he’s supposed to do next.