I was born to a relatively poor family in the village of Atith. My parents never really loved me. They gave all their affection to my unidentical twin, Jared.
When I was fifteen I had the misfortune of getting kidnapped. Jared’s safety “consoled” my uncaring parents. I later found out my parents worked a deal with the kidnappers to take me away and not Jared.
I quickly found my way into Enac’s sex trade. The thing I hated the most was being forced to wear two pieces of undergarments like a female prostitute. To this day I always wear two slings for undergarments.
After a month of prostitution I found myself my first true friend and love, Tiffany the half-elf. She too worked as a courtesan. However, she willingly went into the business to support her siblings who were orphaned to one of the many plagues affecting her hometown, Atith.
I saved up enough money from tips to buy our freedom. As luck would have it, Tiffany died a short time after to a sickness she had had since birth. I gave up on life. Wanting to dull the pain of my love’s death I turned to the drugs, and sadly in order to get the money for said drug I went back to prostitution.
At the age of seventeen I experienced a wake up call. I received a botch batch of bolus pills. The pills were not coated with the correct herb, causing a rapid absorption of the toxic chemicals. Ten minutes into my “me time” I suffered a massive heart attack. My pimp was kind enough to drop me off at the local monastery (which was more of a morgue than a monastery.)
Sinbad, probably the worst monk of the monetary, almost used my corpse in a demonic ritual. As Sinbad recited his spell a radiant force began to come from me, and with the last of the incantation spoken Sinbad was lifted up and four feet back into a wall. Unbeknownst to Sinbad, this was a weak protection from evil spell that Tiffany’s spirit had bestowed upon me as she died. It had only become active when Sinbad had tried destroying my soul.
The monk began to receive an immense burning sensation over his entire body. It was not until Sinbad began an attempt to revive me that the feeling went subsided. The monk struggled and eventually brought me back to life. It was fortunate for me that the monk had tainted soil of Atith, which he was going to use for creating a new disease, but in this case used as the catalyst in my resurrection spell.
After resurrecting me the monk got the idea that it was just magic that would cause the ward to react. He quickly reached for his dagger and fell to the floor in pain. The monk’s pain was caused by a holy fire that had engulfed his hand. Sinbad was unable to hurt me, for the instant he tried to cause harm to me Sinbad was ignited.
When I came to the next day the monk was ready. He knew that he had to direct me down the path of evil. If you can’t beat him make him switch sides.
Sinbad tried to lie, saying that I had Demonic powers, when Sinbad became immersed in the same pain that had afflicted him the day before. Not only would he be unable to make an undead out of me, Sinbad was unable to lie to me about this protection.
Of course not knowing any better I just assumed it was a speech impediment and sincerely felt sorry for the poor monk. The monk instead told me I should learn the monks’ way to repent for his wrong doings, and since Sinbad happened to be a monk, he would take the burden of training me.
Over the next two years (two worst years for Sinbad by far) I trained with Sinbad. Sinbad taught me as much as he could about the Enacian monk’s way. However, a big problem became apparent very quickly. Whenever attempting to perform even the most basic unlawful action (i.e. performing a dark ritual) I became physically ill. Sinbad in an attempt to overcome this taught me healing arts. Sinbad wanted to be able to utilize my powers anyway possible, even if the only thing I would be good for is healing other evil people.
Sinbad was not the only one disappointed in my inabilities to perform. I hated that I could not learn what the monk wanted to teach me. Eventually Sinbad told me of my protection. It angered me, but now I can deal with the fact that I can only perform evil actions without breaking the law.
When I was nineteen years of age I “finished” Sinbad’s training. I’m pretty sure he didn’t want me burning him every five minutes. Besides the whole him trying to make me undead, Sinbad was not that bad of a guy. I thought he was kind for even trying to teach me. When I confronted him with this thought Sinbad started screaming in pain again.
Shortly after leaving the monastery I found out the sickness affected my ability to “work” as well. I now spend all my time trying to find ways to exact revenge on my parents and earn some cash.
