Diluvium

He doesn't really remember how he came about, or what created him. All the Daemon remembers is that he existed, and that he loved the water more than anything else, which seemed to be part of his motif anyway. He mostly moved about through larger bodies of water, occasionally giving humans more grief than they deserved, but nothing that caused them harm. This trickery mostly consisted knocking over barrels, drowning kittens and occasionally splashing people in the face because it was funny too. He wasn’t malicious towards the mortal’s, and made sure that anything like that was not allowed to show. Occasionally he would allow children to see him, and for the most part they thought he was some kind of thing that was friendly or something, though there was the occasional weirdo that thought he was a demon, and ran pissing his pants.

He went on with that usual formula for about two centuries, until a mortal caught his proverbial eye, and that was a young peasant boy that came across the ageless spirit, one of those bright eyed optimists that seemed to have some kind of hope about him. He even seemed to go beyond grinning at the daemon like a prepubescent looking at their first teat, and spoke up to him. He was for the most part surprised by someone actually talking to him, instead of looking at his strange form with mute wonder, or running away, so he took an interest in the strange mortal. That led to the kid occasionally feeding him one of those red fruit things that grew from the tops of trees, and then them having long conversations when he wasn’t working. They had a nice friendship, and that was something that daemon was not used to.

He had never been attached to someone within his seemingly endless life, and then came this peasant boy. In fact that seemed to draw a certain amount of protectiveness from within the strange core that resided within the water being. Anyone that threatened the young boy would deal with an angry daemon, but that never seemed to happen, that being until he found that the boy had been murdered one day, along with his parents, or was it parent? It could have been some misguided bandits trying to make some quick gold, or whatever it was that they had, though either way the Daemon was not pleased by this. In fact, his anger boiled over to a point that seemed almost biblical in proportion, as he wiped out the small village that he was staying near in a wild motion of pure rage. Many had lost their lives to his anger, and few really left alive.


It was this that caught the attention of some powerful mages, one that’s claimed to be part of a family. They came after him, perhaps to prevent the thing from killing another person, but in the end that proved fruitless, as it was too powerful to simply kill. Their magics seemed nothing when compared to an angry daemon, and as such they came up with the next best thing, and that was sealing it away within an object. The object was an ornate silver sword, one that had become nearly indestructible now with the spell that was placed upon it. With his power now held within this blade, the water daemon could do nothing but wallow about, barely able to move too far from his new prison. For now, all he could do was take a humanoid form, and haunt about where his blade was kept.