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Sir JerImore

Name: Sir Jerimore Giralt

Strength 68%
Dexterity 73%
Constitution 85%
Intelligence 67%
Wisdom 65%
Charisma 6%
A man possessed by an evil demon trying to hold on to his last shred of humanity.

Sir Jerimore Giralt was an idealist. He hailed from the mainland of Rodilin. He was loyal, kind and fought for what he felt was right and just. Some called him an extremist, but no one could fault his motives. He fought for over a decade in some of the worst battles the land had ever seen. He suffered much loss, as he often saw his friends killed and his army beaten.

After a time, he became weary and discouraged. He felt that evil would never be vanquished. He fell into depression. His plight didn’t go unnoticed by the great Lord Porosa, a respected political advisor to the leaders of the realm. He gave Sir Jerimore a special mission, and a greatly needed change of pace. Sir Jerimore was sent to investigate a demon that was said to be found in the hidden caves of Mount Jacob and destroy it if it truly existed.

Once he arrived at Mt Jacob, it took Sir Jerimore an entire year to find his way through the maze of mountain caves. Over that time he became fond of the critters that lived in peace on the mountain. The place was like a paradise to Jerimore. It was getting less likely that he would be able to find anything evil nestled in these peaceful caves and even less likely he would ever leave his new sanctuary and return to war. One day he smelled a foul odor coming from an offshoot of one of the caves. Could it be that he had missed this part of the mountain?

He explored the cave with caution. His sword was drawn and his shield was ready, but within an instant death was upon him. Faster than he could decipher, he was disarmed and on his back, frozen and unable to move. He was only able to move his eyes at first. A horned demon stood over him and spoke in a baritone of evil.

“He said you would come soon. I have waited so long. Lundverg tricked me and I have been trapped in this cave for twelve years. I could kill you, but I would rather help you.

Jerimore suddenly found the ability to speak, “How could you possibly help me?”

The Demon grinned, “I am Majnun, and I can give you the power to help others. I can give you the power to win, and save those you love. I can make you win battles, even wars. All I need is for you to take me out of here, as I cannot leave in physical form.”

Jerimore asked, “What do you mean by, take me out of here?”

“I simply need the smallest part of your soul. I will live there, and be there to help you when you call. You won’t even notice me, unless of course you need my powers, then I am at your service. Just say my name and you will hear me. Together we can do amazing things.

Jerimore thought for a moment before asking, “What is the price?”

“Smart man” Majnun proclaimed. “In the event that you need my power, I must take just a little more of your soul, a tiny amount really, you won’t miss it. Consider it just some extra living space for me.

“And if I say no to you here and now?”

“Then I simply kill you…here and now.”

Sir Jerimore thoughtfully asked, “What if I never use your power?”

The Demon seemed to consider the question, then answered, “Well then I’ll just continue to live in that part of your soul you never pay attention to, but it will be hard to see evil and know you have the power to stop it. It would be such a waste of the great gift you have been given.”

Sir Jerimore walked off from that mountain. At first he resisted the temptation to call Majnun, but soon his resolved weakened. He fought, and won many battles. He cured people of sickness. He healed his friends maimed from battle. For years he was his happy, kind self, but eventually Majnun began to claim enough of Jerimore’s soul that he started to change. First his demeanor, and eventually his physical form began to shift. Now his morals are clouded. He’s confused and still believes he is in control of himself. These days he works with the Dragon Warrior’s Alliance, staying in the shadows when possible to hide his demonic face. He still believes he is doing good deeds. Slowly his body is becoming even more altered. His mind is getting more twisted. Now Majnun owns the majority of Sir Giralt’s soul and every day gets closer than ever to absolute freedom.