Diary of a Deathdealer

[Saulus]

He had been born into a wealthy family in Luskan, the middle child with a younger sister and older brother.

Life was not overly difficult for the family, until a robbery went wrong and both parents were taken from this world. The aftermath resulted in a split between the two brothers -- the eldest earning the family fortune and ergo the capacity to care for their sister.

It was then he came to the realization that power is for those who would take it.

With what little family ties left broken, he quickly turned to a life of crime to sustain the lifestyle he had become so accustomed to. Eventually his actions were noticed by the local thieves guild who decided to put him down as a warning to others who did not venerate them.

The first attempt at a local inn was messy -- too messy, for the resulting public uproar when he felled the would-be assassin caused much undue attention to the thieves.

Faced with an increasingly difficult problem, a compromise was made to use this asset rather than destroy it, and so marked the beginning of a long history of violence, thievery, extortion and subterfuge.

It would not be til many years later when several priests of the mad god came to the village that he would find his true calling.

When the priests saw the young man's aptitude for violence and discretion they quickly took opportunity to enlighten him and bring him into the bosom of their faith.

He became even more adept at the death arts, learning more of exotic poisons, deadly technique with small weapons, and immaculate accuracy with crossbows. It was with these tools he journeyed forth, striking out against many faiths who had displeased the prince of lies; followers of Mystara, Selune, Tempus and even on occasion Helm and the Triad. Such a nuisance he had become that many believed a cell of assassins to be operating in the area, with many mobs being called to put an end to it all.

Though never caught, it was time to move on... And so he did, to the city of Waterdeep...

It was here he was given the greatest of assignments -- to strike against an old enemy, a servant of Bhaal who yet drew breath. Such an opportunity did not present itself often, and it would once again change his path in life.

Despite excessive preparation, and deadly precision, on the eve of his attack he could not catch the Bhaalite off guard. Quickly a duel erupted in the dark alley of the city. Each strike he released grew in aggression as the Bhaalite parried each blow, eventually bringing a riposte attack that left him writhing in agony as he lay on the ground. He had failed; but just when he expected the end to come the Bhaalite spoke softly.

"Never before has one come so close to bringing me my end, I would relish in your death, but Bhaal has need of those true to the art of murder.

If you yet draw breath at dawn, seek me out and we shall speak again."

As quickly as the duel began, it ended... The Bhaalite disappeared into darkness as he lay on the ground and continued to fade, but fate had made its decision. He survived, and on the next eve he met with the Bhaalite once again, forsaking the Mad God for the true Lord of Murder.

In the years of training that followed, he quickly surpassed the rank of common assassin, and on the 5th anniversary of his defeat at the hands of the Bhaalite he was finally named in secret ceremony "Deathstalker", Holy Champion of Murder, unmatched and unrivaled by any outside the order.


•••

Victus.

The word was on the lips of all those who honored the name Bhaal. Many cults had come since the god's disappearance, but this one swelled with an intensity never seen before, and why Sundren? Many questions remained to be answered, and so his journey continued.

Now a new obstacle presented itself; how to gain entry into a city of the sky?

[Saulus]

It was the heart of night, most travellers with common sense had left the roads, residing in the comfort of local inns as refuge. Now those that walked the road were privateers - cut throats, and anyone brave enough to face them.

He had seen the barracks at the Sunderer Gate -- there was to be no entry without papers... This was certain.

"Oi, this is our road... Empty your pockets and you may pass... Don't get bright ideas either, Henrick over here is a mage and will burn you to cinders if you make a move."

He stopped, the ambush had been centred around a crossroads, predictable but a sound tactic regardless. The heavy breathing in the shadows revealed three men - possibly four, not counting the so-called 'mage' referred to by the lout.

"I have only a few stags, but you are welcome to search my pockets for more..."

The tone was one of provocation, the 'leader' approached him. "Turn em out, let's see what you got here... " Upon noticing a small sheathed blade he mentioned "Give me that fancy blade of yours."

He smiled at the thugs, "As you wish, I am happy to please." As his sentence finished he drew the blade, his footing turning his back facing the leader, in the same motion he plunged the blade into the liver of the man, twisting it to control his movements.

Gasping for life, the thug turned to his companions -- the one named 'Henrick' summoning a fireball. As the flames streaked across the cool night air they struck the leader, now being used as a shield by the Deathstalker.

As the man turned to ash the Deathstalker removed his blade, retorting with several thrown darts at the remainder of the group. In short order they all fell, the poison within consuming them. With their last few moments the deathstalker approached "Go to holy Bhaal, he who takes your life now, and forever. Know that your efforts shall not be wasted, for I have much need of coin you have collected."

And with these words the deathstalker claimed his bounty of coin, before proceeding down the road to the next inn.

[Saulus]

Two years ago.

It was cold, cold enough that most would perish in these conditions. He had built a snow-grave to shield himself from the wind that night, the refuge of a cave or cavern would have been a luxury. He wasn't hungry though, for last night he had a meal of wild deer, cooked even -- despite the danger of detection.

This was his life for the past several months, as he tracked his prey across the Icewind Dale. The Aurilite had been on the move quite frequently, and whether by determination or boon of Auril they required little rest or food. The item he sought was his main goal, but death would come before acquiring it -- this he knew.

He assessed his surroundings, paying close attention to his previous heading. He gathered his gear, removing his long curved kukuri to ensure the frost had not sealed it.

The journey continued for several hours that day, following tracks through the carpet of snow deep within the dale.

Eventually he came to a small village, only a few walked the sparse paths between the huts, but he recognized the statue in the small square at the centre -- Auril, The Ice Queen. These people venerated her, and thus his target likely was making stead here for some time. But how to coax him out of hiding... The answer was all too clear.

He had missed his sacred kill to Bhaal every tenday several times during his hunt, he had much to make up for, but problem presented opportunity... Now it was only a question of 'how'...