Baqizr Al'Hamid the Grand Master of Artistry

Skill List

Role

Chapter 8

The mark on a drow no less! This captain who had spoke so much of hating those who
oppress other's spirits. Seething with hate Baqizr told the voices they would have
more blood soon. Recomitted to the path he set on years ago he would renew his fight
with new vigor and faith. A special disgust in his mind for those who bore the mark
of the Trickest.

Role

Chapter 7

Countless years ago a young impressionable Baqizr used to look north
to the mountains from his rented room in Voralia. Within his mind's eye
he picured himself standing tall and regal beside the legendary Tara'bal
who stands guard over the Fortress of Light. Maybe it was the wine or a desperate
need to to escape the thought of blood on his hands. Whatever the case he pictured
his future self as righteouss man, pure of action, pure of heart, dedicated to
such a noble cause. Armed with a harp and his wits his exploits would be the stuff
of myth and fairytales. A crusader of the highest caliber, the sort of man younglings
Baqizr devoted his life in the worship of Lady Jaguar Baerinika. As her spear strikes
so too would he strike at the darkfiends of Thera.

Countless times he made the rugged trek through the mountains to the ancient temple
where her followers worship. On bended knee he would pray with all his heart.
Hoping that she would give his new life purpose and meaning. Possibily absolving him
of his prior sins and giving her blessings on the new life he had made for himself.
Yet nothing of her came of his prayers, no matter how or when he prayed all was
silent.

Slowly doubt began to creep within his mind. Murdered, thief, liar. Baqizr Al'Hamid
was all of these things, what a fool he was to come here thinking one of such righteouss
cause would look on him favorably. No matter how much he changed the sins of his past
would be too much. Downtrodden and with his spirit broken Baqizr made the journey
back to Hamsah. For a week straight he drowned himself in the bottle, slowly the seed
of doubt and violence planted itself in his brain once more. The voices within gained
a stronger foothold. Baqizr was still committed to his new life but his spirit was broken.

That is when she first came to him. Pale skin, pale lips and a body to man any man
swoon. Neltouda, Captain of adventure and spirit she was called. Her arrivial brought
hope of new future. One free from the pains of his past and struggles of morality.
So simple she made it sound, write a new chapter, a new verse in life. Let go of the
past. Baqizr wanted to believe it could be done, but slowly he he began to realize
he was being led astray. Did she not think he had tried to let it go? He could accept
the nightmare of his youth, even the slaughter of his own family in rage. The voices
however had a mind of their own, they didn't stop simply because he asked, no new
chapter would stop their whispering for violence and hate.

It was when Zhenyen, a dark-elf summoner of things not from these planes came to the
Fortress a place he had named as home for many years and made a few lasting friendips,
did he realize that the Lady Neltouda had no place in his life. Staring at the
drow with hate as she commander devils and elementals to slaughter the watcher he
noticed the ink on her skin. A tattoo of a storm cloud, the mark of the Captain.

Role

Chapter 6

It goes without saying that Baqizr is a product of his past and his vices.
Forever haunted by his days in slavery and the madness that led him to commit
cold blooded murder. He keeps himself heavily inebriated to dull his senses
and his mind from overthinking every situation. He surronds himself with
countless women either through his charms or paying for them. In those moments
of passion he is whole once again. No longer tormented or pained by his existence.

His soul is in constant turmoil, he knows these dark thoughts in his head and wrong
and fights to keep them at bay. They demand blood and violence of Baqizr telling him
it is the only way to make things right. To date he has managed to control and channel
his feelings into his poetry.

Years ago while performing in Voralia he first heard stories of the Fortress of Light.
He was impressed that individuals each from different pasts and walks of life would dedicate
themselves to something greater. Baqizr Al'Hamid knew he then where his future would take him.
Vowing that is he could prevent just one innocent soul from a life like the one he had lead in
in his youth it would be a life well lived. Though they are never satisfied the voices within
are pleased each and everytime he brings a darkfiend to their knees.

Role

Chapter 5

For years Baqizr wandered the lands forever running from his nightmares and the truth of his actions.
He was torn and ashamed of himself all it took wasone day he had become the exact thing he hated. Who would want
to associate with someone like him? A man with blood on his hands, blood brought about by revenge and nothing more.

Wanting more for his life and to atone for sins of his past Baqizr vowed he would spend the rest of his days
wandering the lands searching out evil and snuffing it before it could impede on the lifes on others. Eventually
he settled in Galadon. Still performing to pay for his booze and travels.

Role

Chapter 4

Waking again to the sun in his eyes, this time on the docks with another thumping headache. Wandering into the
city proper he was able to eavesdrop on some conversations and learned that his murders were discovered and the
city guard was on the lookout for someone matching his description. Baqizr went to the rutting camel and bought
all the Arak he could carry with him and headed out the west gate.

With this dark chapter of his life closed Baqizr was unsure of what lay ahead, but within his heart he knew he
have to attone for his sins.

Role

Chapter 3

Arriving at his room he told her his fetish was tying ladies up and he would pay extra. Once she was secured Baqizr
started drinking heavily to help calm his nerves for what he was about to do. At first she denied that she had ever
had a child. After cutting strips from her abdomen she changed her story quickly. She went from denial to begging
for foregiveness. Claiming not had a day had passed where she didn't regret her decision and went to bed everynight
thinking about her lost child. Things start to get a little fuzzy after that but he does remember 1 gold the price
they paid.

Waking up to the sun in his eyes, Baqizr's head was pounded and he was curled into a ball in the corner of his room
on the hard wood floor. When he stood he was greeted with a gresome sight on the bed. His mother was still tied up
huge strips of flesh were cut from all over her body and a number of fingers were cut off. The killing stroke was
a gaping slice accross her throat. Mixed emotions flooded over Baqizr, on one hand he a sense of relief came over
him yet a sense of regret and horror over what he had done. How far he had fallen from grace to commit such an act.

Baqizr started drinking early that next day, steeling his nerves for the night to come and his meeting with his
father. He felt paranoid all day, it was only a matter of time until the inn's maid went to the cleam the room
and discovered his crime. The sun rose and moved accross the sky preparing to set and Baqizr kept himself buried
in bottle after bottle of Arak. The common room of the rutting camel slowly filled up as the sunset. Eventually
his father arrived. Although he was only 200 years old, middle age for a drow the years of rough living showed.
Skin pulled tight to his face and very wrinkled he also walked with a limp.

Baqizr pulled the hood of his cloak low over his and ordered another bottle of Arak. He turned his chair to face
the stage watching the show and waiting for its end. An hour after midnight the drow bowed to his audience,
collected his instruments and slowly began limping out of the bar. Baqizr was well beyond at this point, he thought
he follow his father sly as a fox but in reality he was stumbling all over the place making alot of noise.
Walking along the street of guilds his father turned about abrutly and confronted his son. Even in the
darkness of light with the nearest torch ten feet away. A flash of recognition came to the drows eye and his jaw
dropped open. "Baqizr???? No, no it couldn't be. Please tell me it is." Tears flooded Baqizrs eyes and he began
to cry, but it did not stop him from pulling his dagger from it's sheath. Slowly he stalked foward murder in his
eyes. His father frowned at him and began to plead and ask why. Baqizr can't rememebr all the exchange due to the
alcohol induced fog on his mind but somehow a sense of sorrow changed his plans and the death he dealt was a swift one.

Role

Chapter 2

After his flight from Balator the young Baqizr managed to secure passage to Arkham from the Docks of
Hamsah. Having been forced to sing and perform for his previous master he used his talents to make some copper
when he was able. There was many days when he could find none to pay for his talents and found himself
panhandling. Baqizr ate very little during that time period, spending the majority of his earning on liqour.
He was a function alcoholic many times waking up on the streets with no memory of the past few days.

The young mans soul was in turmoil. So many emotions ran through his mind. The things that were done to him haunted
his mind every hour of the day. The alcohol was the only escape he had many time it wasn't enough to keep the
the nightmares away. Slowly a darkness began to build within Baqizr. He wanted someone to blame, no he needed
someone to blame. Something to justify what was done to him, a way to make it alright. Someone needed to suffer
as he had. The only logical conclusion Baqizr could come to about who was responsible was his parents. It was they
who had sold into that nightmare.

During the next month the half-drow considered suicide countless times. Having to cutback on his drinking to afford
the cost of passage back to Hamsah. The dreams came back nightly, his master leering at him with that crooked smile,
a look of lust on his face. Finally he managed to save up enough copper and silver to book passage to the city of
his birth.

Standing at the fore of the ship staring into setting sun Baqizr couldn't help but wonder about the two wicked
people who had sold him into that life. How could they do such a thing? Was I such a bad child? How much were
they paid? Would they even recognize me now? All questions he would soon has his anwsers to or he would die
trying.

Asking about town he found little had changed in their lives. His mother althought older and very homely looking
could be found in the central square offering her body to the various travellers. It seems his father had
straigtened up a bit. He was off the bottle and performed nightly at the rutting camel. Baqizr decided his mother
would be the first to suffer. Using some of the coins he had left he bought a new outfit and cloak and wandered
the square until he found her. He approached her cautiously thinking there was no way she would not recognize her
own flesh and blood. Baqizr nearly cut her throat right there. She had no idea who he was, so he simply played the
the part telling her he had a room in the city.

Role

Chapter 1

Baqizr Al'Hamid was born to the streets of Hamsah. What little he remembers of his
childhood was one of poverty. His mother was an opium addict who turned tricks to support
support her habit. His father could be found performing at various taverns when he wasn't passed
out drunk in the an alleyway. At the age of 13 his degenerate parents sold him to the Empire
to be used as a slave. A 10 year nightmare that haunts his dreams to this day began.

His master was a wicked man, often returning to his chambers covered in blood with prostitutes
in tow. Baqizr was always forced to watch the sex acts that took place. His master was sadist
and often times killed the whores during his passions. It didn't end with being forced to
watch however, when Baqizr turned 16 his master took a special liking to him. Baqizr cried
himself to sleep everynight, praying to whatever god would listen to please end his life and
the misery. The inappropriate touching and rape weren't the worst of it. Whenever his
masters conquest did not go as plan Baqizr was an easy target for his anger and suffered the
brunt of it often. He would whip the boy and cut him for his own sick pleasure. During a paticularly
brutal session, his master was high on battle and drunk on ale. He has acquried a new knife
that day from the corpse of one of his victims and decided to see just how sharp it was by
using Baqizrs face to test it leaving a huge scar. Years of endless abuse turned the once
innocent boy into a hard man who learned to ignore the pain and torture with a smile on his face.

After 10 years in forced servitude it seemed as if his prayers were finally anwsered.
Unfortunately not ending in a quick death and he had desired for countless years. His master
was taking a trip to Seantryn Modan for some business dealings. They departed the Imperial
Lands and as they made their way through Balator, a war party of men with heavy armor,
flaming blades that screamed of glory for the light swarmed them. Two paladins called pillars
of fire from thin air searing the flesh off of his master and igniting the wagon that Baqzir rode
in the back of. During the chaos of battle the slave was able to slip unnoticed out of the
wagon. He ran until he thought his heart would explode.

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