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Agaroth's Bio


Agaroth was hand raised by the sorceress-queen Abalach-Re in the disintegrating glory

of ancient Raam. Some even say that the queen suckled the young bull herself. It was

a time when the prosperous reveled in their riches, and the poor worked hard in the

mines or squabbled in the streets for what little they had. Abalach-Re cared little

for the haughty nawabs that would seek her council, warning that the city would not be

able to sustain itself if continued to be managed poorly. Trusted advisors were

slapped in the face for whispering similar warnings to her. She cared little, and

sent them away. Indeed, it was only a matter of time before the mines were exhausted,

and poor irrigation practices led to food shortages and mass riots. Districts became

divided and even the templars feared to walk the streets alone. Agaroth loved his

mother, but grew to understand what she needed him for. He saw how she treated her

other Offspring, usually casting them off once she became bored with them. But she

saw the impressive strength in Agaroth, and knew that he would one day be capable of

immense brutality. Her love for him remained, even though he was far too young to

fulfill her desires. She needed a champion of war, a champion of change. As time

went on and the situation became more dire, she began to take her anger out on Agaroth

by sending him into the districts with only a handful of soldiers. "Don’t come back

until you’ve slaughtered at least ten people." This number would change frequently,

but the battles seldom lasted long. Few stood their ground when they saw a minotaur

in the street. He came back to her regardless, ashamed that he could not help her

restore the city.

One morning while Agaroth slept in his chamber in the Ivory Palace, he was woken by

the Grand Mystic. "Gather all of your things and prepare to leave the city. Meet me

in the my quarters as soon as you can." Agaroth did just that, and as fast as he

could. This was unlike the old man, who was usually slow and methodical. Agaroth

charged his way through the palace, his mind in a fervor. The Queen and the Grand

Mystic were calmly looking over a large old map of Athas when Agaroth entered.

Abalach-Re’s eyes were soft and comforting at this time, glimmering with hope.

Agaroth knew at this moment that she would call on him, and he would gladly answer,

whatever it was. The Grand Mystic described in great detail how his countless studies

in the ancient library uncovered the existence of an item that could potentially save

Raam. It was simply called The Lifestone, and was used centuries ago to restore order

to an ancient city that had suffered from a severe drought. The Grand Mystic warned

that the stone could only be used by one of pure heart. The Queen in all her

unnatural youth and beauty relished in the idea that she would be the one to wield the

stone. Agaroth began to contemplate this and asked the question, "What if the wielder

of the stone is not of pure heart, but evil?" The reply was calm, but grim, "Should

an unpure wielder summon the powers of the stone, their soul should be trapped within

it, forever feeding their life-force to aid in its power. It is said that this is

where the source of the power comes from, souls of the blackened heart. But we should

not fear with our Queen, she is most pure." He smiled at her smoothly, but Agaroth knew

from this moment on that the Grand Mystic had vile intentions with his mother. Although

he loved her and knew that she could be kind and loving, he also knew that she could

be cruel and commit acts of great evil. He vowed to get that lifestone, and shove it

down the Grand Mystic’s throat. Fearing for his mother’s safety, he aligned the best

and most devoted templars to guard her day and night.

The mystic told him that he must protect this secret with his very life, and handed him

the map of Athas. "Your quest begins in Tyr, follow the directions on the map and

meet with my old friend Cyros. He should be able to point you in the right

direction." Upon visiting his mother one last time in her sleep, he carefully

clipped off a lock of her golden hair. He stared at her beautiful face, wondering if

he would ever see her again. Wondering if she would get herself into trouble, or if

someone would assassinate her while she slept. “I will not fail you, mother.” With

that, he donned his black regalia as Champion of Raam, and slipped away into the



Agaroth is massive in stature and build, the sight of him is enough to make most flee

in terror. Thick black hair covers his entire body, and two large bull horns protrude

bilaterally from his skull. The ends have been fitted in rare blackened-metal tips.

He is dressed in the regalia of the Champion of Raam; his armor is a mix of thick

ornate blackened leather molded with designs and fear-inspiring imagery. Underneath

this he wears thick black fur, often blending in with his own. The final piece is a

long black loincloth which flows down to his knees. He carries little more than a

sturdy spear of high quality, made special for his large size. A short sword is

sheathed on his belt for use as a back-up weapon.

Despite being physically intimidating, Agaroth is actually an intelligent and kind-

hearted warrior. His devotion to his mother has led him to do evil things, but he has

not lost heart. If a situation arises where an innocent is in danger or a person

needs help, he will do what he can to help them. He can be very soft-spoken, and can

often be found day-dreaming, pondering unknowns, or thinking of his mother. Agaroth

takes out his mother’s golden lock of hair when he is alone at night or under the

stars, and recalls his vows and renews his urgency for the day to follow. Fellow

soldiers trust in his leadership as he almost always calculates a battle before it

begins and coordinates attacks precisely. He also has a good reputation for reacting

quickly to unexpected situations and tipping the balance of the fight in his allies

favor. One would expect Agaroth to lose his head in battle and slip into a rage

common amongst minotaurs, but he has been trained to remain level-headed despite an

observed external rage. Historically, minotaurs were usually killed in battle far

more quickly for making foolish tactical decisions while in a blood rage.

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