The Diary of Drayvie Zokry

[Dray]

The Diary of Drayvie Zokry.

Leaf Fall 21, 1349 DR

Well, I’m not really much of a writer but there isn’t much too really do in Never castle dungeon. So I guess this piece of charcoal I sharpened on the wall and the vellum I found in the pocket of my, oh so quiet and malnourished cell mate, is going to have to keep me company. It’s not like the bag of bones is really going to care anyway. I guess my first question would be where to start.

Maybe a good place to start would be why I’m in here. Well, the typical list of crimes would be fine, petty theft, larceny, extortion, impersonating a member of the watch. You know the typical drabble that a thief of my caliber would get himself into. Impersonating a member of the watch is kind of difficult to explain but there is a war brewing with Luskan and they offered me a fair bag of coin to infiltrate the ranks and find out how loyal the militia would be if war did break out. So, being a man of business I took their offer. Luckily, the new Never winter lord, Masher I think his name is, doesn’t know about that. If he did I’d be looking at treason. Course, The crime that has me here waiting for the gallows is bad enough. Not like they can kill me twice after all.

I guess since the cat is out of the bag so to speak I can tell you what it is. Not like your really going to say much. Maybe you’ll say something to the guards when they search my cell after I hang. Yet, hey I got to leave some kind of legacy right? My crime is murder. Yep, you heard me. I’m a murderer. Not like it wasn’t justified. That watch member had it coming. I mean all the kid took was an apple, a freaking apple of all things. Yeah the guard caught him. Yeah, the guard warned him to drop the apple and turn himself in. Yeah, the guard was trying to fire a warning bolt. But if he’s going to fire a damned crossbow he needs to check his aim. Personally I felt it was on purpose. Not to mention that guard was rubbing me the wrong way with his holier than though attitude. Always thinking that his shit didn’t stink and that he was better than all of the other rabble that hung out down at the docks. Anyway his “warning” shot took the kid in the back. Hit him right in the sweet spot, small of the back, fourth muscle down. That wound gushed blood like you wouldn’t believe. And all everyone else could do was sit there and watch. The poor boy couldn’t have seen more than eight, maybe nine winters total. Now he was dying and the only thing anyone could do was sit there and watch. I couldn’t believe it.

So what did I do you ask. It was pure poetry I tell ya. I was right there with him when he did it, right behind him in fact. I kept telling him to let the boy go. Even said I’d pay the merchant the copper the boy owed him. But no, he had to go about his little crime thing, the law this, the law that, the (do-me) law hit me with a vampire bat bullshit. So when I saw the kid fall I pulled my dagger and sliced his throat from behind. Perfectly executed if I say so myself. And as I said, that Luskan bred bastard deserved it.

Well, low and behold, when the boy lied dying everyone stood around staring. Yet wouldn’t you know it as soon as I slit that guard’s throat the other guards were on me like flies on crap. So they could care less about a kid that who knows could have grown up to be a great knight or something some day. (I highly doubt it, he probably would have grown up to be a thief like myself or some thug beating bar patrons senseless for a few coppers every now and then, but it’s the idea ya know.) But, wouldn’t you know it, when one of their own goes down, they don’t hesitate to jump on his murderer like bats out of the abyss. All of it is ridiculous, if you ask me.

So now here I am awaiting the hangman’s not. They took my hat, saw the horns, then they swore up and down that I was the one that killed both the kid and the guard. The damned guards said I did it for spite. Said that my horns proved that I was nothing but an evil monster and claimed that if I wasn’t killed now that I would end up killing everyone in Never winter. They kept calling me half-demon. Now that pissed me off, I’m not half demon. I’m one quarter devil, and devils are more lenient then demons anyway. Demons kill without remorse or cause. Hell a devil doesn’t even kill. He actually kind of helps you out. I mean you hear about devils giving people great power and strength and riches and all that. And they don’t even ask for anything in return. What your soul? It’s not like your using it anyway, right?

[Dray]

Leaf Fall 22, 1349 DR

Ok now that was messed up. I had the weirdest dream I ever had. I’m sitting in the corner of my cell watching as the star creep by my little barred window into the world outside, when suddenly I’m not in my cell anymore. In fact I really can’t see much of anything around me, no walls, just nothing. It’s like I was literally nowhere. Then this big red guy comes out of the darkness. Let me tell you, that's saying something, because I can see perfectly fine in the dark and this guy just appears. So I’m thinking what the hell kind of magic is this? He looks me up and down and calls me grandson. Now he has me kind of intrigued. He asks me my name I tell him. Tells me it has a meaning, that my name it’s very close to the infernal word for thief. (Dryav or something like that.) Then he introduces himself as Asmodeous. Now that freaked me out. I had read up on the lore of Bator. You know the nine hells and all that good stuff. I knew I was devil But I got this guy standing her telling me that I’m not just part devil. But I’m part arch devil. And not just any arch devil either. I’m the grandson of THE arch devil, Asmodeous lord of the ninth. He’s like the king of hell or some crap like that. So that would make me a prince of hell. (Not like it really matter anyway. I mean heck you tell me a lord that is going to take that nobility into thought and I’ll get a horse to crap a brick of gold)

So this Asmodeous guy goes on about he couldn’t believe I got myself locked in a dungeon waiting for my death. Said something about he was expecting me to come for a visit but not on the terms that I was about to come. Said he had plans for me n the material realm, whatever that means. Then he hands me a lock pick and just disappears.

Next thing I know its morning and I’m waking up to cold gruel being slid under the door to my cell. I hadn’t had much to eat in the two days I’ve been here but I’d rather eat my arm then the crap that they serve. Bah, gruel I hate the stuff. So I go to rub my eyes and wake up a bit when I notice something clutched in my hand. It’s a lock pick. So it was a dream, and a weird one like I said. Yet, not really a dream either. Anyway, this is my last post in this little vellum book. They have me scheduled to hang at high sun and I’m not going to be here. I’m busting out and getting to port last to find me a boat out of Never winter territory, maybe a merchant caravan or something like that. Just hope I don’t have that many mercs trying to collect a bounty on my head wherever I go. They got me under the assumed name Willis Faulkner so maybe; just maybe, Tymora might give me a bit of respite

[Dray]

Murtil 13, 1950 DR

Well, here I am. In Baldur's Gate. When I broke out of the Never-winter dungeon. Not, without some difficulty mind you. I mad my way for port last as I said. There i managed to get on with a merchant caravan that was heading south. I wasn't for sure what i was going to face cause i hadn't really been out of Never-winter that much. But instinct told me that it was time to get the heck out.

The caravan was headed to south to Amn. Not the idea of getting al the way to amn was not really my first choice. I don't even know how to speak Aminite or what ever. I heard it was a bad place anyway. So I agreed id come as far as the gate. Seemed like as good a place as any to start over. Also it was far enough from Luskan that they might not come looking for me. I didn't want those monsters on my tail that's for sure.

I brought those little pieces of velum with me. It is a good thing cause now Never-winter won't know my real name. When I had the chance I bought me a small, blank book and wrote them into this little journal. Who knows maybe it might come in handy keeping a record of my adventures.
Maybe some bard or something might pay money to get the story of the patron prince of hell. Who really knows. So I'll keep writing down the oddities of the sword coast as I live them in this little book.