I don’t remember much of my father or of my mother. My brother tells me that my mother was once a great high elf, well respected among her peers as both an incredibly wise and beautiful elf leader, as well as kind. Well, she was well respected. She was widowed, a long time ago. Her husband died at sea on a trade vessel the family owned. Many years later, her eyes fell kindly upon a human. He was a strong and brave sailer. The family didn’t approve, and the high elf community did much more than not approve. Our house fell out of favor. There was a horrific incident that resulted in our home being burned to the ground, and much of the family murdered. I don’t remember any of this of course. I was too young. My brother does. When he speaks of it his eyes get dark. Sometimes I think he blames me. But, through all this, he has been the one person I can count on to be there, and I’ve needed.
It was just the two of us, on the streets. We wandered for awhile but settled in Immilmar. He became a bit of a thug and ran with the wrong crowd, but I could always count on him to put food on the table. I just had to learn to not ask where it came from or how he could afford it. I was born weak and prone to sickness. To this day I still suffer from coughing fits. Then there were the dreams. You see, there is a distance between this world and the lower planes of existence are great for most. For myself, I’ve always felt the lowest plane’s presence closely. Visions tormented me as a child. I did find solace in books though. I loved to read, and to learn. I became obsessed with learning. This was especially true to this realm I could sense was just ever so slightly out of my reach. This was when I was approached by the coven.
I remember the day well. I was sent to the market to buy bread. Just bread, nothing more. I was about halfway when several men I didn’t recognized tried to rob me. I refused to give them the little gold I had, and they knocked me out. I woke up later, my brother standing over me and the robbers dead on the ground. He picked me up off the ground, dusted me off and sent me to the library, my favorite place to frequent. I ran as fast as I could, terrified at what had happened. Once, I got to the library, I grabbed the latest book I was fixated on and got lost in the pages. It was that day that she approached me. I remember her clearly to this day. She was a beautiful woman. Red hair, and bright eyes, her name was Lilian. We talked for hours. I told her about my dreams, and the presence of the other planes. It was then she introduced me to the coven of Graz’zt.
At the time I remember the coven opening my eyes. Exposing me to world I never knew existed. They taught me about the lower planes, and about Graz’zt. They taught me about the pact. About how I could leave the path of the commoner, and ascend to greatness. This could be achieved through knowledge and power, though the pact. I prepared for the ritual. I knew I was preparing for a bargain that could one day end my life. What was asked of me though, I could never had prepared for. Graz’zt had become dissatisfied. The coven had become complacent. They were happy to remain but whispers in back alleys. Graz’zt was used to much more, and desired much more. He wanted the old coven burned away.
After the fires died down, he whispered to me that our pact was complete, and he would bless me with his gifts. I became a warlock that day, bathed in fire. My brother found me, ash covering my face. As was our ritual he saved me that night. He saved me from the fire, from the soldiers investigating. It was then he took me away and enlisted me in Finigan’s guild. I know he had his own reasons for joining that he wouldn’t tell me, but I always suspected it was partly to protect me.