Neovald d’Spaude Octarius

The name should cause thousands of minds to burn in obscene terror and impotent rage, but it does not. For Neovald remains nameless to the vast bulk of the Imperium of man, a place where he would like to stay…. For now.

Neovald was the illegitimate son of minor noble house on some semi-fuedal, nominally Imperial backwater world on the Eastern Fringe. As such, he would stand to inherit nothing of his father’s estates since he was a bastard child. However, that would not stop his father from having the boy educated in the proper manner for one of his rank. It is one thing that Neovald would thank his father for.

As the illegitimate son, Neovald knew that once his father passed, he would have nothing. It was only his father’s largess that kept him in the halls of learning and a seat at the noble table. During his studies, the Ecclesiarchy priests singled out Neovald for torment and punishment as his birth was considered an affront to the chaste tenants of St. Augustine and the Emperor. Even today, his back still bears the scars from the drill abbots’ and priests’ penitent whips. In addition, his purebred betters constantly mocked and ridiculed the young man. Their pranks ran from merciless verbal taunts, to physical abuse.

Neovald was forever an outsider. It is little wonder that the young man buried himself in the schola library and ecclessiarchy’s dusty vaults. It was here that the young man began to realize that just beyond the realms of his world there was something much greater for him. He aspired to the stars and escape. The more he asked questions, the more he was punished by his peers and teachers.

One day, the inevitable happened and his father passed away. He was banished from his father’s former lands by his older brother. Neovald left with little more than a few tomes, and the sword at his side. He became a close personal friend of hunger, want, and desire. Despite his meagre lifestyle, he continued to seek out that beyond his world. It was in his wanderings that he heard of the Witch.

He sought her out. At first, she rejected him like all the others. However, his persistence paid off and she eventually let the pathetic creature into her circle of trust. At her foot, he learned of the greater realms beyond the world he knew. His eyes were opened by this outcast hermit. He witnessed her abilities and learned at her feet.

After a decade in the wilderness, Neovald returned to his father’s old lands. They were much as they had been when he left. Such was the stagnation of the rule of the God-Emperor of Mankind. Knowing he was unwelcome, Neovald began to apprentice with local Ecclesiarchy. His lay devotion was rewarded as he was moved through the ranks of the altar-brothers. Soon, he was dispensing the sacred wine that represented the Emperor’s blood sacrifice to protect all humanity. It was this position that allowed him his long-awaited victory. He poisoned the sacred wine with a concoction he had devised from the ol witch, and hand delivered it to his unsuspecting siblings.

Within a week, all the loyal servants of his father’s former kingdom were dead, slain by his poisoners hand. In a symbol of his own victory, he ascended to the throne of his Father’s land, reclaimed his rightful name and title and sat upon the throne of his corpse kingdom. It was grim parody of the God-Emperor himself. Instead of a corpse-god reigning over a kingdom of life, he was a living god ruling over a kingdom of death.

Soon after, he was forced to flee as neighboring kingdoms began to understand what had happened. The Priesthood pursued him across the land, and Neovald staid one step ahead of his pursuers. He survived on his charm and wit. Of course, the horizons of his world allowed him to only flee so far.

However, Neovald had managed to find avoid his pursuers long enough. For the grim tale of his vengeance had found ears amused by it telling. As Neovald was run to ground and had no further place to go, his salvation came burning from the heavens. At first the priest and holy mob were convinced it was sign of their righteousness. They were to find out their error, as the burning comet rained fire and death down upon them. The mob was consumed.

The burning bolt came to earth near Neovald, who sat bowing in reverence to this power of destruction beyond his imagination. From above him, he heard the voice of his new lord, a new savior. It was metallic and harsh, and it spoke simply.

“Neovald d’Spaude Octarius. Come with me if you wish to live.”

From that day forward, Neovald had been pledged to the Dark Gods and their mortal champions. He found that the wonders the old Witch had taught him were but a glimpse of the larger world. From there, his new masters showed Neovald a new galaxy to explore, secrets to be unlocked, and that the wicked Ecclesiarchy and their false words were sown across countless worlds .

In his heart, he wanted to make the galaxy burn over the false words of the priests of the God-emperor. He wanted nothing more than to uncover the works and creations that were claimed forbidden by his enemies and expose their righteous eyes to the truth! The God-Emperor was nothing but a corpse on a false throne who cared nothing for their suffering. He would show them and take joyous glee in their despairing moment of revelation. Neovald was the living god among a kingdom of the dead.