Viktor Grey

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Name: Viktor Grey
Race: Human
Age: in his late fourties
Class: Warlock, ex-wizard
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: Mystra
Gender: Male
Height: rather short, definitely much shorter than an average man
Weight/build: slim, unassuming

Biography:
Amn has never been an ideal land for spellcaster to live in, and recent years haven't made it any less unpleasant. Due to a strict set of rules maintained by mysterious, ever-watching Cowled Wizards, arcane spellcasting in major cities has been forbidden and subject to heavy restrictions. Everything arcane-based has to be controlled and accounted for, never overstepping boundaries dictated by the aforementioned coven.

Of course, most law-obedient citizens don't mind it at all. There are always worse laws, besides, less magic on the streets means better security...most of the times.

The man now known as Viktor Grey was not one of those people.

An experienced wizard with quite impressive local renown and a daring adventurer in his youth, Viktor was an unusual magician. Though - like all wizards do - he strived to further his personal studies, he never really enjoyed the scholarly seclusion of most city-dwelling mages and remained a free spirit throughout his life, never bowing to any autority he deemed unjustified or irrational. An outspoken, energetic rebel-of-choice, never afraid to do things his way.

As one may easily guess, this got him the unwanted attention of Cowled Wizards. Conflicts of interests, tensions and uneasy truces were the things defining their relationship, but - even though both sides utterly loathed each other - a facade had to be kept, as there were some mutual profits. This silent agreement, however, was literally hanging on a hair. Sooner or later, it was bound to fall apart.

And so it did.

On that fateful day, many angry words were spoken, cutting through minds of listeners like daggers, poisoning them with hatred, clouding their reason. A major disagreement occured. Spells began to fly, tearing mercilessly through flesh and stone alike. Many people died, leaving Viktor with blood on his hands. His life in Athkatla - in all of Amn - was over.

Realizing that time was of the essence, Viktor hurried to his sanctum. A hunt for his head was about to commence in a matter of seconds; additionaly, traditional means of escape, magical or not, were out of question. He didn't feel guilty; while he wasn't wounded seriously, the spell-fight took its toll, and exhaustion gripped his heart. In such state, he was defenseless, vulnerable...and scared. It was the first time for him to feel such fear for his life.

Breathing heavily, back at home, Viktor quickly began to search through his exotic array of books. As a mage preferring to dabble in more unusual fields of expertise, he remembered a certain book, one that he never had time to fully appreciate. An unassuming, leather-covered grimoire met the wizard's eye. Skimming through old, yellowing pages feverishly, disturbing images of otherworldly horrors, eldritch circles and demonic runes filled his mind. He was ready to bargain with Hell itself for his freedom.

Two minutes later, a complicated, arcane symbol appeared on the floor. Blood dripped from Viktor's wrist, landing exactly in the middle of the circle. He was going to make a choice of no return, but there wasn't much to consider. The time was up. Assassins were most likely closing in to his dwelling. With last thoughts of doubt crumbling, the wizard closed his eyes and began to chant. A hulking, horned figure of fire and sulfur appeared in the circle in a flash of fell light. A pit lord from Nine Hells, identified in
the book as Kormanthrax.

The creature's face formed a menacing grin. He already knew.

"Is it survival that you seek, mortal? Very well...but there is a price."

Viktor fell on his knees, terrified. Adding to his horror, multiple swift footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs. The assassins were already there, and the demon was perfectly aware of it. Inhuman delight flickered in his eyes.

Obviously, Viktor was on the losing side of the bargain. Terror overcame him again.

"Help...me...please!"

"There is the matter of payment, human." - the demon's grin widened - "You seek an escape, another chance at living. I will grant that wish and send you to a faraway place. Your pursuers will lose the trail. No retribution shall reach you, and no kind of divination will be able to pry your true name from the depths of mind. For that..." - he stopped, his next words dragging on in time - "...I shall take your power. Your identity. Your possessions. You will forfeit your current life entirely, mortal, and your fate shall be bound to me...for eternity."

The demon kneeled over to the trembling wizard. Their eyes met, spawning memories that would haunt the mage's dreams in the future.

"Do we have a deal?"

An increasingly loud, repeated sound could be heard. Somebody was trying to get through the sanctum's door by force, and from the looks of it, that "someone" was almost done.

There was no turning back.

---

Many months have passed since, and many events unfolded: the household of a certain renowned Amnish wizard suddenly burst into flames, destroying everything inside in a ball of fire. The cause of fire was deemed unknown, albeit charred corpses of five armed people were found lying in the ruins. The wizard himself has gone missing, seemingly without a trace, as if he vanished.

In the taverns of distant Sembia, common folk still whispers unconfirmed stories about a mysterious man who materialized out of the thin air on a road, between an unknown dwarf traveller and his would-be bandit oppressors. That man, known to gossipmongers as Viktor Grey, apparently still travels with the dwarf; some even say they headed west together, their destination being the famed Sword Coast.

But that is a story yet to be told...

General information, attitude:
After assuming the identity of Viktor Grey, the ex-wizard became a shadow of his former self in many aspects. While he kept his wit and free-spirited demeanor, he mostly prefers to keep his insights to himself, voicing his thoughts either when required or when surrounded by a company of his closest associates (in such cases, he shows much of his old, carefree persona). While he retains his educated courtesy and manners, trusting people poses a problem for him, the biggest reason lying in his constant attempts to hide his past. Viktor has no moral restraints when it comes to killing people and/or using a more "direct" approach, yet at the same time he believes in "doing the right thing". However, his experiences left him rather disillusioned and thus he tends to avoid strong affiliations with either good or evil. He's not as moody as he may seem, though - he enjoys a good drink (mostly in large quantity) in a tavern from time to time and, due to the nature of his dwarven friend, Skazz Stormforge, has grown fond of various songs and stories. He fears that, should he attract big enough attention - or become insecure enough, he may accidentally leave a trace for Cowled Wizards, thus enabling their agents to find him. Because of that, he prefers to - if possible - maintain a low profile. Although the infernal deal made him lose his entire magical prowess, it also provided him with a tempting alternative - fiendish powers. Thus, chosing to exploit that possibility, he became, in essence, a warlock, and he shows spectacular skill with his newfound abilities.