Quote Originally Posted by Bjarkmundur View Post
Well since you're all cought up, finally I don't feel bad dropping this one off.
I managed to come up with a character but didn't manage to make it all away to backstory. Well, I sorta did, but it lacks the "one thing lead to another" narrative a true story has.

Tawmis, meet Barakas
First, my apologies! Work has been insane today! (I knew it would be - I had a bunch of training classes I had to - which lasted until 1pm... then it was back to back meetings)... Lunch I needed to walk away from my desk... but now, I sat down - between meetings... and decided Barakas and I would take a stroll through Waterdeep...
If there's anything I missed the mark on or that you don't like - feel free to let me know.
It was admittedly challenging writing a Warlock (Fiend Pack), whom you said you didn't want to be evil...
And that their "devil worship" would not be evil... so ... I left it open... with ... is it real, or is there a grander scheme that the Pillars of Light suspect...
What am I talking about? Well - read on! Again - please be honest - if you didn't like something, let me know! I can try to revisit it and get it closer to what you want.

Waterdeep is one of the most influent cities of Faerûn. The city was vastly known for its trading community, thanks to the merchant kingdoms in the nearby neighborhoods of Calimshan and the trades that came from the Inner Sea to the east. Many who walked in Waterdeep seemed to be in awe of the endless amounts of things that could be purchased. Unique items, never seen before, hung in the windows of shops, waiting to find a new home. This is what earned the city the title of The City of Splendors. Those native to Waterdeep also called it the Crown of the North, showing off their pride.

The surrounding population of Waterdeep had a population density of over 200 people per square mile, while more than 100,000 people called the city of Waterdeep “home.”

Most who knew visited Waterdeep would tell you the streets were clean and the guards patrolled the streets rigorously and viciously. Most of the people who would describe Waterdeep as such never ventured into the Southern Ward of Waterdeep.

Here, where I called it home, there was mud that lay thick on the streets. Mud that seemed to desperately cling to your boots in an effort to pull them from your feet as you walked.

My name is Barakas and I am one – of many – Tieflings who call the Southern Ward home. But just because there’s mud and muck, does not mean one is living an unhappy life. The Southern Ward is also home to the Jade Dancer – famous for the dancing statue. The Moon Sphere is also in the Southern Ward, celebrated every full moon.

If you’re looking for a drink and have a score to settle – The Full Cup tavern would be your place of choice. The Spouting Fish was also popular, but fights were typically not tolerated there. I have always preferred the Red Gauntlet. It was quiet, dim, and the place to go to lose yourself in your thoughts.

One might think because I was a Tiefling, I was sitting here, brooding because of my heritage or because I wasn’t rich. Honestly, that was the furthest from the truth. I understand that there’s a general distrust – possibly even hatred – of Tieflings. I get it. You see someone with horns on their head and a tail, you instantly see some devil standing before you.

I enjoy people even if they give me odd looks. I am comfortable with who I am and care nothing if they’re afraid of me or hate me. I see it as a challenge to prove I should not be feared. I know the fact that in one of these run-down homes, we’ve converted it to the Church of Mythia. People took great discomfort with it, because Mythia was a Marilith – a female demon, with six arms, and a serpentine body, notoriously known for being evil. But Mythia was different. After all, humans vary from evil and good – can a demon not be reformed? Mythia always spoke to us in ways of helping others accept our appearance. I had taken a great interest in Mythia and her teachings and had made a pact with her, to lawfully server her, in exchange for knowledge and power that she could bestow upon me.

There were others – especially the religious ones – who claimed Mythia being a demon, that she had been manipulating us. Lying to us. And that she had some other grand scheme that she was launching. This had brought us in conflict, from time to time, against a religious sect in Southern Ward known as The Pillar of Light.

Typically, they would simply protest outside of our “Church” and from time to time, fists were thrown, but never more than that. We never bothered protesting against the Pillar of Light, because we believed they were entitled to believe what they wanted, so long as they did not invoke harm on others.

Eighteen seasons had passed since my birth – and at my Ceremony of Ascension – thing had changed drastically. There had been shouting outside, then screams – and before I could understand what had happened – humans were charging inside of our Church and throwing torches down. I watched as they viciously knocked over my family, my people. They were not looking to kill anyone – they simply wanted to burn the Church down because they believed it represented evil.

I heard her voice in my head suddenly, “Stop them.”

Instinctively I reached for a scimitar that was hanging on a wall – and felt her energy coursing through me as a thick, black, liquid seemed to surround the blade, with bursts of purple, sparkling energy. Though I had not really used a scimitar in the past, I felt as if I was one with the blade, and that perhaps she was guiding me. My strikes were all non-fatal – in truth, I had only wanted to drive them away.

Since none of them had weapons, they exchanged nervous glances and quickly turned and fled, the Church already burning. Others in the Southern Ward all rushed out to assist in putting out the fires. Despite their distrust of Tieflings, and even the one we followed and had made a pact with, most people knew we never did any harm – and that we had not deserved this.

In the hour of desperation, as we tried to save our Church, the people had come together. Tomorrow, old suspicious and prejudice would surly arise – but on this night – we were united. I looked at the scimitar in my hand again – the black liquid faded. The scimitar was the weapon of the Marilith and Mythia was no different.

Most of the Church could not be saved. The following morning the sky smelled of ash as I stared at the charred remains of our Church.

“Show the world,” I heard her voice again, “that we are not evil. Go. Make them believe.”

I looked down at the scimitar in my hand and realized, I had not let it go all night …