Height: 5'10"
Weight: 180 lbs.
Age: 23
Eye Color: Black
Hair Color: Black
Skin Color: Red
Body Build: Athletic
Distinguishing Feature(s): Left horn is broken, scar across the right cheek, wears his mother’s cloak, and keeps his father’s dagger sheathed in his wrist armor.
I was born in the slums of Vulkannen to a Morthos and Lerissa. It was tough growing up as we didn’t have much, although my father tried his best to provide what he could. He referred to himself as a merchant, but as I grew older, I knew better. I’d come to learn that he was little more than a common thief, and did deals in back alleys for the local crime lords. My father never belonged to any specific crime circle, he was freelance, but he did have a small crew of his own. I never let on that I knew what he actually did so that he could maintain his pride, but even though I knew, I never thought any less of him. The world was cruel, especially to our race, and my father always taught me as such.
When I was 15, my father got the “deal of the century”, as he put it. He said the job would turn our lives around. Well, the night of the operation would be his last. I’d come to find out that it was a bank job. I was originally told that my father was killed by a guard as the job went bad, but later I found out there was a double cross. The crime lord, Amnon, who’d hired my father for the job, decided that he wanted a bigger cut and had my father and his crew killed.
Even for all of my father’s trust issues, precautions, and teachings, they still got him in the end, but not without a fight from what I hear.
With our household being in a weak position now, Amnon took it upon himself to “help” us get back on our feet, as if we had a choice. Amnon made my mother work in one of his many whore houses, but before she had even serviced her first customer, she too was killed, albeit brought on by her own hand. My mother didn’t like the idea of being a whore very much, and when her first customer came onto her, she killed him with a broken broom handle. In turn, Amnon then killed my mother as she was of no use to him. As I was alone now, and I guess as a sick joke to my parent’s memory, Amnon took me under his wing and brought me up as part of his crew of thieves.
I had a feeling that I too wouldn’t live very long under Amnon. So, in desperation and revenge I turned to the same place that my ancestors had long ago, the devil pacts. At home there was a book of Tiefling history that touched on the basis of the rituals that were performed. I scoured the book for hours and learned the secrets of the past. I performed the summoning ritual that was laid out in the book, and a cold wind blew through the room even though the windows and doors were closed. The flames of the candles were blown out and the room went dark, but then the markings on the floor began to shimmer and glow a florescent green. There was a loud cackling that echoed through the room as a strange entity appeared, standing on top of the markings. The devil looked somewhat similar to myself – tail, horns, red skin. He identified himself as Agreas, High Vizier Devil of Bel, Master of Avernus, and demanded to know why I had summoned him. I pleaded with him to grant me power so that I may claim my vengeance on Amnon. Agreas seemed to ponder this for a second before he finally reached toward me. He grabbed my left horn on my head and snapped it off like a twig. The devil gripped the horn in his hand and closed his eyes. The horn began to flatten and elongate. When the transformation was done, my horn now resembled a sword. Agreas thrust the hilt of the blade at me, and I cautiously gripped the blade. As I did so, the edges of the blade became surrounded in a swirling, shadowy purple light, and I heard whispers in a strange tongue inside my head. As I held the blade, I felt infused with power and I felt like I could take on the world. By this time, Agreas had disappeared, leaving me alone in a dark room. I now had the power for my revenge, and all I needed now was the chance to extract it.
A couple of hard months passed before I finally saw my chance to kill Amnon. It was a night after I had just helped rob a merchant of his gold and wares while he was distracted with packing up. A part that involved the death of the merchant by one of Amnon’s goons after I sucker punched him. I’ve had to do many terrible, despicable things these past few months to blend into Amnon’s crowd. I’m not proud of the things I’ve done, but they were essential to my survival.
I went to present the night’s take to Amnon, strangely there was only one guard in the room. I handed the bag of gold to Amnon, and as he turned to put it in the vault, I hastily cast an Eldritch Bolt at the guard, hitting him in the face. Before Amnon could turn around again, I had already drawn my demonic blade and was charging him, but with quick reflexes, Amnon managed to draw his sword and match blades as the two swords clashed together. As both of us tried to strong arm the other, Amnon spoke through gritted teeth, “I should have known that you would try to kill me one day.” My strength began to give and Amnon’s sword inched closer to my face, and I grimaced as I turned my head, Amnon’s sword slicing across my right cheek. As blood trickled down my face, I shouted, “This is for my parents!”, and I kicked Amnon in his crotch. Amnon dropped his sword and fell to his knees as all of the strength ran out of his body.
I drew back my sword and swung it in an arc, the blade glowing with dark purple light at it sliced through Amnon’s neck like butter. His head flew across the room and hit the wall as his body fell to the floor with a low thud. I stood over Amnon’s lifeless body for a moment, breathing heavily, watching his blood drip from the tip of my demonic blade, mesmerized by it.
The moment was stolen as the door to the room opened behind me, it was the other guard. He hesitated for a moment, taking in the sight, trying to put together the pieces as I stood over the bodies. Not letting the guard have the upper hand, I quickly blasted him with an Eldritch Bolt and dashed through the door, making a break for it.
I ran back home to grab what food I could. I had to leave town, surely one of Amnon’s goons would want retribution, and I wasn’t going to stick around to let them have that. As I gathered my things, my mind was filled with whispers again, only this time I could understand them. I recognized the voice as Agreas, the devil who had given me power, “You have done well and taken your revenge. Now you must pay back your debt, but not this moment. I will let you relish in victory now. However, in ten years’ time, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you will be in my service.”
Now I have a new purpose, to find a way out of this pact. I travel from town to town; looking for any information I can find to help me. I also help those that I can so that I can atone for the horrible things I did in Amnon’s service. When I die, my deeds may not matter, but as I still breathe, every little bit helps me sleep better at night. I live on in memory of my parents, carrying a part of them with me in my travels. I will make my life, and theirs count for something.
No comments:
Post a Comment