Za'than - Son of a devil.

[Moltrazahn]

* This book is placed amongst the "random reads" that the Elf's song Tavern keeps around on shelfs. It is fairly new, and only the first few pages have been written upon, the handwriting is simple yet elegant *

(( this means feel free to leave comments both IC and OOC, but please mark them with (( or OOC: if talking out of char ))

*This is the story I write, because my upbringing has been within the world of books and the likes of which they bring, tales of hero’s, tales of distant planes, mighty battles, romantic tales of love, horrid tales of which I shall not recite here… but I shall try to make my present situation known, trough the tale of “what has”, so that you, dear reader, may understand as to “what is”.*

I shall recite my tale here in this accessible book, so that in time, i hope to gain an understanding between you and myself, dear reader.

How does one start a story…

Or more precisely, how does one start a story, were the main character would be considered by most, as the villain?
I guess my best bet, is to start were it began…

The tale of my mother, and how she met my father is really not that special, for a “Touched” that is. My mother was a young human female, I’m uncertain of her précis age however, that is not of concern. She along with several others was in a cult of sorts, one deep into the summoning of Demonic and Devil powers from beyond the boundaries of the prime material plane. I have often wondered how well this cult must have been at their craft, because the choice of what would be their last action, would have taken an impressive resource gathering to make happen. Regardless, they summoned a Devil to their world, a devil of high power and wisdom, in terms of “demonic rank”, a Pit Fiend. However, whatever plans they had to use this one devil for, they failed. Something went wrong, mother never knew herself how it happened. One thing was sure tough, the devil broke their hold, and before long, the town burned with infernal flames, soon the only left alive was her, and the Devil. Impressed, infatuated perhaps, the devil spared her life on the conditions that she would follow him to his domain located within the “city of doors” also known as Sigil.
And that is how my mother, met my father…

I grew up within “The Den” as we called fathers domain. Inside, it was more like a castle, royal carpet, paintings, art, sculptures, relics and artifacts father had gathered from all over the planes. Just to stand in the midst was as impressive in its glory, as Sigil was in its misery… Before I go on with my own tale, I believe it is important to dedicate a section about this metropolis. So please dear reader, consider the follow information for your own benefit, should you ever find yourself within the city of doors.
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To those unaware, Sigil is a city; it is “the city”. It is located between the planes. It is a gate-house one might say, portals going to and from everywhere seems connected to sigil. However each portal has a key and you need that key to open a portal. A key can be anything, a thought, an item, an emotion. One can never tell what a key is, unless one knows. For us within fathers keep, it was a hair from his “Githzerai” form. Each servant of Father had such a hair to open at a special location in the City.

The City itself is in a constant state of decay, thus the “dabus”, servants of The Lady of pain, constantly repair its metallic structure. The city reminds mostly of a scrap yard, metal spiraling into what seems an infinity of rust, rubble, metal and blades that reach for the flaming sky. However when you look close, you spot houses, streets, people, beings, monsters… Sigil is everywhere and nowhere, and “everyone from everywhere” seems to be in it. This is most likely one of the only places were devils, demons of any rank can be found wandering its streets, as well as every kind of race found on the planes. Harlots on every corner, thugs in every ally, tradesmen on every street… death in every shadow. Sigil truly is a magnificent city. One... words cannot seem to really grasp unless you’ve seen in it.
In this city, there is one rule, and that is the rule of the Lady, the lady of pain. She is a goddess or sorts… some even refer to her as an “overgod”. The truth of the matter is, no-body knows a lot of her. Some say the city is Her Maze, other say that she is the maze of the city. But one thing is certain, without either, the multivers would collide in untold chaos (an event like this is recorded and can be found if you look under “Vecna” at the clerk’s ward library). The lady of pain however, maintains the city via her servants. Tough the odd thing is, the lady does not allow other gods to reside if they challenge her power. One such was the God of portals, he began his rise in the city and for his act, the lady killed him with a single thought, and mazed his priests. The remains of this can be seen at the dead gods ruined church, in the ally of dangerous angels. Tough since gang wars are a constant matter in that area, I would advise you dear reader not to venture into that part of the city.
The lady is truly an odd creature… she does however seem to have a pattern of sorts when lesser beings is considered. If you defile her laws, the laws of sigil once, her shadow will slightly touch you, which will get you mazed. Should you find your way out of this maze, and return to Sigil, and if you break them a second time, you will either get mazed in a harder maze… or her shadow will fully fall upon you, which can kill immortals and mortals alike. Another interesting thing of the lady, is that she will not allow any to pray to her… no praise to the lady is considered wise, since such will get you mazed… Which dear reader, brings us back to my current predicament..
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Returning to me. Who am I you may ask, well dear reader, my name, or the name given to me by mother and father, I a humbly to present, is, Za’than Za’amal. Half-breed, is what I am. In more commen word, I am a Teifling. For such I have been scorn, as well as any other of “My kind” that finds their way to this plane… But more of that later dear reader, for I shall recite my past before going to present matters.

My father I feel, have always looked at me with ill feeling, he often says that I am “unworthy of his blood”. A thing I feel that he is correct in concluding, as I cannot hope to match the devil he is. In truth, my father is a powerfull figure in the senate within sigil. He has a multitude of agents scattered across many planes. Agents come to “the den” often to deliver reports and or recive orders from him on a daily bases. However, as powerfull and cunning as he is, I belive my father to have a weakness aswell. And that is my mother. I do not know how long it took her to fall for him, she tells me; that “he was a difficult man to love”. But now I have no doubt that they do indeed care for each other dearly. Which for a Devil, is an odd thing (Trust me, I know). I do however also believe this is why I haven’t been tossed on the streets of sigil. Mother cares for my wellbeing, just as father cares for hers. And therefore, I conclude that I am safe, becauss of my parents love for our family.
Yet even with such, I am not allowed, nor ever were allowed much freedom. My first thirty years were mostly within the walls of “The Den”, here I read, I studied. Father would bring me books, and teach me of the great abyss or the shape of the nine hells and their Dark masters. Every time, he would speak of each, and how his eyes glew (they burned more brightly then normal that is) whenever he spoke of either demon/devil prince that was or once were. In truth I do seek to aid my father, not out of fear, but love. I care for him, and somewhere I do also believe he found a place for me, he takes time off to make certain I study and did talk of using me as an “instrument of ambassadorial planning” for future alliances with “lesser races”. Mother said that she suspect he places me in such position because that he really considers “mortal races” to be less of a threat. A thing she often chuckles about, as she points out herself, that she “A mere mortal” was able to tame the great pit fiend. In truth dear reader, the love between my parents is one I have always adored, not only because it is how I was conceived, but that I find that devils and mortals, don’t often “fall in love”. At least not unless we refer to the known works of “Succubus/incubus relation between races of the planes”. A fine book I can recommend for curious readers above adulthood, since the book features detailed explanation of intimate nature.

To return, I was not allowed outside alone, always I was escorted by either father or mother. Since father will not let me learn arcane arts, mother took it to herself to teach me of “Eldrich” magic. A shape of spell I believe is used by what the people of my current “home” call “Warlocks”. A term often used of devil-worshippers or otherwise individuals that deal with the powers of the planes. Yet I ask dear reader, are these people evil in their curiosity for their wish to understand the boundaries of this plane and that of others?

To return to the story, once my father had taken me to the Lower Ward of Sigils streets, this ward features a major market, the siege tower (an attractive attraction for most, yet father tells me that it has “other uses”), it is also here the slave-sellers are found. And lastly this ward houses “The Godsmen” of the godsmen foundry. It was here on this day, I yet again failed my fathers ambitions for myself. We were visiting a magic-shop just within the next area (known as the “Clerks ward”) that fell to fathers likeing. While in this shop, I was as always told to not touch anything and wait at the door. As I was there, a young girl-creature. Looked like a mixture of Githzerai and some lesser planar being, ran into me and dropped something at my feet. I do not myself find my features to be haunting of any caliber compared to the many other odd races wandering Sigils streets, but perhaps my red eyes and mask (father has me keep a mask on to hide our relation) that spooked her, since the cutter ran off. I took the small item she dropped and found it to be a doll. Rather simple in its design, I thought it not to be much hassle, to I brought it with me back when we returned to “the den” that day.
I understand if you, dear reader, shake your head at my folly. The Doll was in fact a replica of the lady of pain herself, a thing I still ponder why anyone would make. Alas it is firstly now I find this realization to be present. As for “then” I was later tasked with cleaning fathers alter-room. A place of great power and magic that father himself spends plenty of time within. As I was finishing up, I placed the doll on his alter since I needed to gather some items for later use, however dear reader, I forgot in my hurry to retrieve the doll from said alter… Which brings us to my current situation.

It seems the placing of the doll on the alter, was taken as a Gesture by the lady, by me. As a sort of “prayer” or otherwise provocation. In any regard, I went to sleep that night, and when I woke, I found myself here. In “your” world.

I shall be honest, the first two days here, I thought I was dreaming. Never had I seen such a place, a place with grass, oceans, races I’ve only read of, and some I’ve never seen before. In truth dear reader, I was so caught up in my illusion, that I wore no mask; I wore no cloth but my training outfit from the day before. In truth, I was a weak and vulnerable as a newborn child. Oddly enough, I was not slain, considering my horrid rudeness towards the general populace…

I shall stay my tongue for a time, and let you, dear reader. Consider this event. In later times I shall let the tale of my careful presence in your world be known in further detail.

Until such chapter is made, I am humbly your writer.
Za’than Za’amal.