12 The Claw of Winter, Year 1354

Memories of Thay

"What would ye do after running for several years, ever escaping Thay and the plots of the
Red Wizards? That is why I am still alive, I have nay doubt. But I have run too long... "

My long flight from Thay began with the death of my mother, she who had been my passionate protector in land where tieflings are playthings and pawns of the Noble Houses of Thay. Naturally, she was a Red Wizard herself, but she ensured my education and also protection from the head of House Ashmeddai, an ancient Red Wizard. He was also my maternal grandfather, and thoroughly despised my very existence. With her murder - I suspect 'twas murder, though I have nay proof - I knew I had to flee.


Of course, my life in Thay, and subsequent outlook towards the land and its people, developed long before her murder...

I was born a bastard, in the northern tharch of Surthay, as "Barzal". My mother's name was Arizima, and she bore me without the approval of my grandfather. I never knew my father, but I would see a single tear line begin to fall, whenever I asked of him as a boy, quickly wiped away. Eventually, I stopped asking. My mother was my only solace among House Ashmeddai. As a Red Wizard, despite her disgrace, she could protect a tiefling child from the cruel plots of other Red Wizards.
To Thayans, I was nay pure Mulan. I was instead their tortured plaything, the impure, the scum, a tiefling. I heard it all, mostly from whelps whose bloodlines were likely as twisted as mine own. I was often the target of beatings by the pure Mulan children, until I learned enough brutality and cruelty to fight back. My mother would always soothe my scrapes and bruises. They ceased bullying me after I crushed one boy's fingers under my boot, literally. 'Twas only required, naturally.

I recall one occasion where a tutor whom my mother had hired, an impoverished minor Mulan noble, broke my hand with a rod. The man annoyed me, so I acted stubborn and shirked my lessons before his very eyes. After an hour, he struck my hand in frustration. Arizima the Red Wizard rose up before us, all two meters of her. She threatened to turn the man inside out, until his bones were encasing his flesh, "Instead of the other way around!" The man flinched and began apologizing profusely, to her but nay to me, the tiefling. Mother was fiercely protective of me; but she amiably cajoled me to return to my studies, a veiled, dual threat. It was implicit to us both. She brooked no shirking of my studies, and the tutor wanted to live. I did nay test her patience in that matter again!


Around the time of my majority, two events happened. My mother was murdered. And there was a flurry of activity in House Ashmeddai.
Before her death, rumors began to fly that my grandfather was planning something. The younger house Red Wizards and minor mages were all maneuvering, in order to be part of it and garner the old bastard's favor. I went to my mother's room, to ask her what it meant.
I knocked on the door, and there was silence. At that moment, something felt wrong. There was a copper scent in the air, which was nay unusual, as mother engaged in alchemical experiments in the morning and then came to her room to change clothes. But that day... it was nay right.
I burst in, to find her bleeding out the last of her breathe. I held her eyes, as she shuddered several times and then died in obvious pain. Then, I heard voices, from down the hall. I hid.
"Where's the fiend-blood mongrel? The master will likely sacrifice him in a fortnight," demanded a husky female voice.
A nasal male voice responded, "Yes, the master's ritual to summon a marilith... it needs a sacrifice."

When the voices had passed her room, I spent some time thinking. Sitting near thy mother's corpse, moments after ye saw her die, tends to change thy thought process. I realized that the only way to stay alive was to escape. Of course, I could nay just run off. With all the activity in House Ashmeddai now, I would need a distraction. I would need all of the house guards occupied. For the next several hours, I discreetly spent time amongst the slaves. I managed to convince a select few of the influential slaves to rise up, knowing the rest of the slaves would follow them.
"It is perfect timing," I urged Jandar, a minor slave overseer. "The Red Wizards are all occupied with the master's rituals, and the guards are too busy looking towards external threats. Wait until full darkness."

When the time came, the slaves attacked the guards at the main gate. Upon hearing their attack, the guards rushed towards the main gate. I hid near the rear sortie gate, leaving as soon as the guards rushed to put down the slave revolt. I stole a horse from the scout stables and fled Surthay!


I only have one memento of my mother, Arizima, which I keep to this day: a tiny earring. I now wear it bound 'hind my ear, like a charm.

14 The Claw of Winter, Year 1354

Fleeing Thay

"Would ye spill blood for thy own safety, for power? Or Pact with Lower Planars?
I would. Truly, power is the only currency that matters!"

I fled Thay for Lake Mulsantir, journeying up the east side of the lake to Mulsantir, in Rashemen. The journey took me a few tendays, as I did nay desire to overtax the horse. I had only the provisions that I could, but I had also snagged a fishing rod before I left House Ashmeddai. I used bits of food and the rod to sustain myself when my supplies ran low.

Fortunately, I found a relatively ruin along the lakeside. I fished for a few hours, then headed into the ruin to start a fire and cook the fish. I spent a great deal of time thinking over the events prior. I admit I even spent some time grieving.
After a few days of thought and grief, I made a decision. Obviously, I could nay return to my old life, so I would cast aside the name 'Barzal', my birth name. My old life was dead, and it was time start anew with greater mastery. I would now be known as 'Malign'.
"For I will turn the curses back on those who scorn me," I said to myself.

Exploring the depths of the cave over several days, I eventually stumbled upon a heretical text. This text detailed how to summon a demons. One passage specifically mentioned Alu-Fiends, describing how this fiend might grant a pact on behalf of a demon lord. I also read of the Demon lord Graz'zt and his Abyssal realm of Azzagrat (and a few other Abyssal realms). After weeks of study, Malign began the ritual.
"I summon ye, Alu-Fiend!", I cried defiantly, and the comely fiend entered the summoning circle in a flash of magic.
"What do you seek of me, mortal?", the Alu-Fiend taunted in a sultry tone, her wings flexing as her hands carressed her breasts, and leered at him.
"I seek power, power to reform this world for the better."
The Alu-Fiend reached out, running one hand along his jawline teasingly. "I might be able to arrange that... with my master, the Demon lord Graz'zt."
"I agree... I have read of thy master and his realm. Mayhap, one day, I will even visit? But, for now, the Pact!"

With his agreement, the Alu-Fiend clutched the side of my face. I momentarily felt weaker. Then, the Alu-Fiend vanished. Feeling drained, I flexed his hands. That night, dreams came to me of a city, of demons, and of the Argent Palace. When I awoke, I reached out with the tenebrous power I felt, almost hidden, beneath my mind. To my delight, I then conjured a ray of eldritch power!

I always feel such power now. And, truly, it is growing...


After forming the Pact, I considered my options. The Rashemi would be suspicious of Thayans and doubly so of a tiefling. So, I journeyed down the eastern shore of Lake Mulsantir, to Telflamm, the most important city in Thesk. Despite the wonderous markets in Shemszarr Square, I did not stay long in the city. Thayans know that the largest Red Wizard Enclave is in Telflamm, and my grandfather may have put the word out for my capture. I found a ship, quickly, bound for Zhentil Keep.
Zhentil Keep is an inherently interesting city. Forty-foot-thick walls tower above the Keep itself, and the homes and businesses within loom several stories above the streets, like low cliffs. A city entirely ordered, great iron gates are periodically set into walls of the buildings, a measure against invasions. After the ship docked, I and my fellow passengers headed to the Foreign Quarter. Unfortunately, before I could fully explore the opportunities of Zhentil Keep, I was confronted with the reality of the high taxes levied on foreigners. I stayed in the city a few days only, taking care to visit the Black Altar of Bane for good measure, despite my lack of proclivity for the gods.

For the next few years, I journeyed across the North, ever heading westwards. I mainly kept to the trade routes, journeying with a mercenary squad here or a caravan of merchants there. I volunteered my "magical talents" and even accepted insults or derision, for the sake of pay and travel westward.

A tenday ago, I found myself here, near Baldur's Gate. And I am confronted with the ironic fact that, on this seemingly sleepy Sword Coast, all is nay as it seems!
I first slept in the city itself, and found that I awoke in a state of intense dread, as if I somehow had learned a terrible secret. I had already severed ties with the merchant caravan I was working with, the day prior. I have decided to stay in Baldur's Gate. These dreams, I feel compelled to understand what they mean and how I can turn them to my benefit.

"This land... I will gain power here, so I shall ne'er again be powerless!"