Tyranny of Dragons
Played by Danny
Human male, age 17
5’4", 130 lbs.
black hair, brown eyes, brown skin
Warlock, level 8
Str 10, Dex 14, Con 12,
Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 20
Skills: investigation, religion, perception, arcana, history
Languages: Common, Draconic, Abyssal, Primordial
Feats: moderately armored, charisma+2
eldritch blast, minor illusion, mage hand, dancing lights, guidance, shillelagh,
darkness, invisibility, suggestion,
counterspell, fireball, fly, hypnotic pattern,
dimension door, wall of fire
Class Features: pact magic, pact boon: tome, otherworldly patron: fiend, dark one’s blessing, dark one’s own luck
Invocations: agonizing blast, book of ancient secrets, devil’s sight, repelling blast
I was born a slave to a merchant family in Calimport who traded in exotic spices. The merchant family also owned my mother and father. When I was 2, my masters fell upon hard times after losing much of their cargo to pirate raids. To stay afloat, they sold off some of their belongings, including my father, who was sold to a gladiator pit. His fate is unknown to me.
I knew the meaning of hard labor early in life. By age 4 I was tasked with scrubbing dishes, emptying chamber pots, fetching water, sweeping floors, and the like. My masters were not overly cruel, but they were strict. If I made a mistake, my punishment would often be denial of food. This left me malnourished, which caused me to make even more mistakes. I became severely underdeveloped.
My masters’ finances never bounced back. At the age of 6, I was sold off to reduce their debt. Because I was so scrawny, I was not very valuable; the only merchant willing to buy me was one who took pity on me. My mother was also sold, but to a different merchant. Her fate is unknown to me.
My new master, Kateblas, was a renowned royal scholar of advanced years. The pasha of Calimshan tasked him with gathering knowledge and intel from the surrounding kingdoms. Master Kateblas had a kind heart for a Calishite; he could see that I was of no use to him for physical tasks. He taught me how to read and write so that I could be his scribe during his excursions.
As I reached adolescence Master Kateblas took more of an interest in my education. It was already uncommon to teach a slave how to read and write. Teaching a slave science, philosophy, and history was virtually unheard of. Over time, my master treated me less like a slave and more like a son.
At age 15, Master Kateblas introduced me to the teachings of the Order of Diabolus, a cult dedicated to Astaroth, the archdemon patron of knowledge, learning, and memory. Calishite history was rich with influence from otherworldly patrons with dubious origins and goals. As far as demonic patrons go, Astaroth was one who actually cared about the welfare of his followers, much as my master seemed to genuinely care about me.
Master Kateblas carefully explained in detail what devotion to Astaroth meant. Followers were required to gather knowledge at any cost. A unique tome was more important than a life, a library more value than the town it was in. Followers of Astaroth also kept a journal of their daily experiences and posed philosophical questions based on those experiences. Finally, as an ultimate test of devotion, followers were required to sacrifice their first-born child to Astaroth to prove their willingness to cast off even the most cherished possessions in the pursuit of learning.
This last tenet proved the most difficult for most potential order members, but as I had no desire to procreate, I found it to be the most trivial. Master Kateblas, on the other hand, paid this price long before I was born. Ages ago when his wife gave birth to his firstborn, he sacrificed the infant to Astaroth with a heavy heart. His wife later killed herself in grief. Heartbroken by the loss of his family, he vowed to never remarry and to never sire another child. While still devoted to the Order, sacrificing his firstborn proved to be his greatest regret in life.This regret explained why he form a connection to me; I represented the son he could have had.
Master Kateblas inducted me into the Order, and I formed a pact with Astaroth. In exchange for my promise of devotion, I received mental whispers of arcane knowledge from the demon prince himself. Master Kateblas taught me how to redirect these whispers safely into a tome so that they wouldn’t drown out my own thoughts and drive me insane.
When I was age 17, Master Kateblas suffered from failing health such that he could no longer maintain rigorous traveling in pursuit of knowledge. He decided to permanently set up in Athkatla, where new knowledge and ideas from the foreign lands would travel to him. Unfortunately, the restriction on arcane magic in Amn proved to be a culture shock to us. In Calimport, arcane magic is commonplace and viewed as unimpressive. In Athkatla, arcane magic is reviled and restricted to only a select few.
Master Kateblas overestimated his political clout and was arrested after one too many infractions. In the only correspondence I had with him since his arrest, Master Kateblas declared me a free man and bade me to honor my oath to the order to seek new knowledge, even if that meant letting him rot in prison for what little time he had left to live.
I made numerous attempts to free my former master. I wrote to any dignitary, merchant, and politician I thought could help. I spent any wealth that wasn’t seized during his arrest on lawyers and bribes. After my attempts to secure his release failed miserably, the only thing left to do was to honor Kateblas’s wishes. I heard about an opportunity to travel to Greenest in the Western Heartlands. That would put me in the vicinity of Candlekeep, the famed library near Baldur’s Gate. I could probably send a lifetime consuming the knowledge held there. While I don’t quite have the entrance fee to enter the library, the caravan gig is a good start.