This shit hasn’t been figured out yet.
Much love, your Benevolent Overlord, He Who Watches From the Deep-Throne.
Long ago a race of man from Bael Turath waged war against the Dragonborn nation of Arkhosia, towards the end of the war Bael Turath was on the brink of destruction, the nobles of Bael Turath traded the souls of their nation for arcane power to overcome the Dragonborn. Although the pact allowed the humans to survive the war with Arkhosia, it warped the people of Bael Turath into the race now known as Tieflings. The noble families of Tieflings were cursed far more than the rest. The nobles and their offspring were cursed to harvest souls for the Dark Lord, Asmodeus. If they fail to sacrifice a creature to Asmodeus, the Dark Lord will take the Noble in place.
This is where my story beginnings. I implore you reader, I am no hero. My name is Iados Zannifer. Although Bael Turath had fallen long ago, I am a descendent of a long forgotten line of Tiefling nobles. With the tiefling noble blood in my vain I too, have the Crimson cruse. When I reached adulthood once every new moon I had to make the choice of take the life of an innocent, or losing my own, I took the one which kept me alive. My natural guile and charisma, lead me to the path of Bard and minor dabbling in Wizardry. I lived a comfortable life for five years, tricking young maidens into their doom. That was until one got away. The Hunt was on. I hid along the undercity of Riddleport until word came of the New World. I heard of the New Worlds “Tabula Rasa” taking a chance in that prisoners were being sent over to world and colonize the world, I hoped that the Old World will not follow me and leave it be that I have chosen my punishment.
Once the ships arrived New West Lakes I applied to the Triumvirate as a diplomat, since to my knowledge no humanoids where in the area I took to it as a job of luxury. I worked out agreements on land usage with the colonists and researched arcana on the side. Then everything changed. The Eleven people of the New World were found. New West Lakes worked as hard as it could to establish strong ties with the tribe, I myself have even taken in a mate from the Grey fang elves. I feel like the weight of my sins is crushing down on me now that I am to be a father. Once I only knew deception, and guile. My world is now about survival and protection. With a war that will be coming this winter I have personally took it upon myself to see that the fortification of the Colony is completed, as well as funding for the training of a milita.
The future holds a lot that I am unsure of. I fear for my child, as it will one day inherit my curse and be forced to harvest souls for Asmodeus, a God that the Gray Fang people don’t even know of. I fear that the threat of the Grandfather is more than we can handle, with the possibility of an undead army breathing down our necks, this will be a long winter. If we survive.
I love how our campaign is located in Greenland