Sam

Childhood
Everyone knows that nothing good comes from Myr. Dirty, dangerous, and full of questionable people; it’s the perfect place to hide if you don’t want to be found. That’s what my family thought after they had me. Tieflings are hunted; at the time I never knew the reasons why, I just knew what little my father told me. “Trust no one, talk to no one, be unseen, be a ghost.” ‘Why’ didn’t matter, my father made it clear to us that we weren’t safe. It was a kind of living, our small family. I would venture our, bound up in rags, and hunt for food scraps in the dark corners of the cities. Some days, I would feel a bit bolder and pilfer from a fresh cart when the baker was distracted. It was just the routine. Then they came. I came back from a run that day empty handed and disappointed. My feelings of shame were quickly mutated into distraught as I came upon 3 human soldiers, swords at the ready. They had my mother and father in hand; Mother was crying. Father looked to me and smiled before one man slit his throat. I don’t remember what happened to Mother after that. I can only remember the color red, blinding, burning embers from within my consciousness as I leaped at the men.

I was 6 years old.
When my senses returned, I was outside the city in the arms of a human. He told me his name first. Brett had spared me, a Tiefling, from his comrades’ ire. Despite their orders, he could not bring himself to kill a child, human or not. He had slain them when they attacked him for refusing. My 6 year old mind could scarcely grasp the gravity of what had happened, but it would be a kindness I would not easily forget. Brett told me I would be on my own, that I needed to be even more careful with my movements now that my parents weren’t around. He said he would come visit me after every full cycle of the moon, at the place we first met. He gave me a small bag full of gold, placed me down, and left.

Loneliness
From then on, I was completely and utterly alone. I got better at taking things without people noticing. Father’s words echoed in my mind every minute of every day. I became a ghost within the walls of this hell; I even started to observe how others like me went about stealing, and learned how to do it even better. That’s when the killing started. My first kill was at 11. Just a sharpened piece of bone I found in a back street. The little gnoll made the mistake of trying to take the flank of meat I had been stalking, so then I decided to stalk him and take it back. It was so easy, and it got easier the more I did it. Brett always kept his promise. Every new face of the moon we would meet, and he always had something for me. Money, some clothing he managed to scrounge up from around his station, occasionally food. He was always kind, always wanted to know how I was doing. I was nervous to tell him the truth of everything, but I think he already knew. I was 18 when Brett told me about the fighting with the Dwarves. He said they were having trouble delivering important information between posts, that the Dwarves kept strong vigils over the routes. He told me they needed a ghost… Reluctantly, I agreed to go with him. I became Brett’s runner. He assured me no one knew about my heritage, and all the messages only need to be delivered. No questions asked. I hid my Tiefling features as best as I could, and for the first time I was outside of that hell. For the first time in my entire life, I felt like I had a purpose.

(He completes his service and gets a nice stipend for his work. Only Brett knows he is a Tiefling. They still meet but not as often now. Brett naturally ranked up in his military service and is often stuck behind a desk now. Zer’klesh from this point on begins to see more applications for the skills he acquired growing up as an orphan. He still has a strong desire to meet other Tieflings if at all possible)