[steverimmer]

Full Name: Sul de'Agueliers
Age: 27
Class: Bard/Fighter
Race: Human
Subrace: Tiefling
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Deity: None

Bio/Description;

I still remember Fangfoss in my dreams and nightmares, that sad haunted place were I was born and were I used
to know happiness. Its voice is still heard in my music, when I can bring myself to play. No longer can I conjure
up songs of merriment and laughter but only the sorrow that has haunted me for these past 10 years, perhaps that
is why I followed my fathers path, and became a bard. Yes we've all known the pain of loss in these dark times with
the shadow rising in the east and the gradual invasion of evil and violent creatures into formally peaceful and
prosperous lands. But who has had to endure the destruction and torture of all he has loved and then been set free to
tell the tale.

I suppose now would be a good time to tell my tale or at least the parts of it that I can bear to utter. There is
much I cannot bear to recall never mind give voice to.... Yes now would be a good time, whilst the fire of Isaac's
whisky still rages through my veins and my head is fuddled by the only drink that can affect me.

It all started with the stranger coming to the small desert village of Fangfoss deep in the heart of the Anuroch
Desert. A small isolated place, one that few people notice but one that has held a great secret for many hundreds
of years, a secret which was comprised of the people who lived there...we all had, what we termed 'bad blood', we
were 'tainted' I suppose you'd say. It was a place that grew up gradually, a place of the dream of peace, of refuge
from the more 'normal' people in the world, a place people had fled to seeking respite from the world of normality.
It was a village of freaks....a town of tieflings. All living there had a deformity of some kind, from the trivial to the
obviously apparent and in my family, it was horns.

Now were was I? Oh yes...the stranger, yes he came in the night a clear still summers night. I remember the stars
were burning brightly and clear as if they were only feet away and the air still held the sweet smell of the summer sun,
but I wish now that it had been a dark and stormy time, full of portents of impending doom and destruction for that was
what the stranger was to bring. He came, he entered the village hall and was made welcome. He sat and ate our food,
drank our wine, listened to my father perform for the villagers, and then he left. One of the children saw him looking
around near the supply barns as he made his way to the gate, but we thought nothing of it. He was a normal human and
we had no real contact with the outside world...we just never wanted to antagonise him, if an angry man had gone into
Saudria or Waysend and told of a violent town of tieflings hidden in the desert, it wouldn't be long before a mob came
visiting. So we just turned a blind eye to his strangeness...after all we had enough of our own.

Then a few nights later in the dead of night they came. An army of cursed Drow murdered the two watchmen
stationed on the gates whilst we slept, and then entered the town, completely unopposed. The first we knew were
rough hands dragging us from our beds into horrified wakefulness. We were pushed and shoved at sword point
into the village center near the great hall and made to kneel before the Drow. Some of the elders, and...oh sweet
lord...Belinde resisted and they were tortured to death before our eyes. Her screams...as her body was so cruelly
violated have never left me...never, and I'm sure they never will.

But were was I?....Yes they took us and made us kneel before them...they made us beg for forgiveness and mercy
and forced us to acknowledge their superiority. Then to our astonishment it seemed they were going to leave, to
let us go. But they made us all enter the great hall and once we were locked within we heard the sounds of them
leaving. I sat there near my family, my ears hearing the sobs of the frightened women and children, my hands
caressing my little sister but my soul was trapped in the moment of my beloved's death looking on helpless while she
screamed and screamed. Then as it all went quiet the main door was roughly unlocked and a Human, a captain of
Bloods army by the look of him, walked back inside flanked by two guards.

'Bard, Bard' he shouted walking over to us, my father started to get to his feet unsteadily, the terror evident upon
his face. 'Not you old man...that one....YOU!!' he pointed to me whilst knocking my father to the floor. I was still
in deep shock and he had to drag me too my feet and I to my disgrace began to cry openly. He and the Drow
laughed at this assuming that I was crying with fear, little realising that I was still standing before my beloved.
As they approached the door I began to come to my senses and I looked back towards my family, I could see them
sitting looking towards me, sorrow and fear showing starkly in their faces and that was the last time I ever saw
them alive.

It was dark outside even the stars which had earlier shone so brightly now seemed pale as if struck by fear.
Around me massed the dark shapes of the Drow oddly graceful but deadly and full of dire intent. It looked to me
as if they were all still here they hadn't left at all. The human struck me across the head and I fell to the ground,
looking up I realised with shock that it was the stranger who had come but a few days before.'You shall be a
witness to the events here' he said as he stood over me 'a witness to the beginning of the end to all surfacers' He
grinned 'but it will be a little unpleasant for you I fear' He made a sign with his hand and his body seemed to
shimmer before me....the human was gone and I was looking into the cruel dark eyes of a Drow mage. 'Take him' He
shouted and now it was my turn to scream.

Dawn was not far off as I lay nailed to the table propped up so I had a clear view of the great hall. The nailing
was not the worse thing that had been done to me in the last few hours and my body was an agony of screaming
pain, but I lay there fixed unable to move gagged with a piece of Belindes bloody skirt. The Drow had clustered
around the barn and I couldn't see what they were doing in the darkness with my bruised and swollen eyes but
then the smell of burning wood reached me and I heard the screams of all those I loved trapped within. I tried to
struggle but it was fruitless, I was completely immobilised, and I was forced to watch and listen until the hall had
burned completely to the ground. Then they started on the empty houses and it was night again before they were
done.

I thought they would kill me then but they picked up the tabletop that I was nailed to and loaded me into the back
of a cart. Then we were off at breakneck speeds over the dark desert sand...once my home but now a dark and
sinister place. These atrocities were repeated several times until the all the neighbouring villages were destroyed
in the same manner and I was forced to watch it all. After all I was a witness to the coming of the Drow.
Eventually I was taken off the table I'd spent so many weeks fixed to and tied almost dead to the back of a horse
which galloped at high speed to Pranzis were at last I was rescued.

I spent what seemed like years in the temple of Rofiren, being healed and cared for by the clerics there. I was
also questioned intensely by the same clerics as well as by representatives of the King and the local militia. The
Toranites too came to visit several times and I told them all the same thing....beware the Drow they are here among
us, their spies are everywhere befriending us and searching out our strengths and weaknesses, preparing for the
final battle.

At last I was well enough to leave but were would I go? All I had known was gone. One of the knight paladins
who had spent many hours questioning me began to tell me of his vocation and after his tale was done suggested
that I might like to join the milita or the army. Well what else could I do? I was alone and lost in the world...so
I joined. I knew at once that it was a mistake, a stupid mistake born of loss and dispair, but I had signed up and
was not going to be let go easily. I was a useless soldier....Oh I was proficient enough with a sword and a bow and
the few cantrips I knew and the songs I could sing...songs of power and influence....helped our troop become one
of the best ever seen at the academy. But I found I could not take orders...questions were always on my lips and
the sting of the lash often on my back. I felt miserable and confined by the armies binding rules. Eventually my
time came to an end as everything does, given enough time and I decided that I should lay to rest the ghosts that
still haunted me and make the long journey home.

I began with a feeling of great fear. Yes fear...fear of the pain I was again to experience, for memory can deliver
the sharpest cuts of all, and fear that I may lose my family if I was to put aside my sorrow. That was silly of me I
know...for sorrow does not keep memory alive, just makes of it a burden. One that need not be carried.

As I drew near the place of my birth I discovered that the desert had reclaimed my village, that it had passed
away from the world without a trace, just like my people. There were a few crumbling walls here and there and
the occasional burnt fragment of bone but it was obvious that in a few years there would be nothing left, no trace
at all of those happy memories and love and laughter. I was alone.....

Wearily I lay down to sleep and as I slept I had a dream, a dream of a great dragon........