Quick witted with a biting tongue, this warlock has a tendancy to rub people the wrong way when first met. While he is motivated by personal power and wealth, he will jump in if an ally is in need.
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Maeglin Embersgrin was born at night during a thunderstorm in the back of a caravan wagon as it bounced along a narrow mountain path sometimes used by merchants to shave time off of their travels between major cities. The caravan ended up abandoning the child in a remote mountain village, where no one had seen a child with skin the color of blood or pointed teeth, or, for that matter, a boy with a tail. Lucky for him, the village wizard took the child in as his own. Despite this warm gesture, the other adults told their children to stay away from the “demon child.” As could expected, Embersgrin grew up rather alone, taking the day-to-day teasing of the village’s children and hushed stares from the parents.
Years past, and Maeglin grew. During these years, the village turned into a town. The children, now adults, still held him in contempt, but where teasing had been fear now resided. If a farmers crops wilted and died, it was Maeglin’s demonic magics at work. If a woman had a stillborn, Embersgrin had eaten its soul. When the Tiefling took care of the wizard’s shopping in the crowded market streets, people would part, sometimes even turning around as to not cross his path.
The wizard had aged too, and had begun to teach Maeglin about the arcane. The young tiefling was enthralled, and could often be found happily practicing the minor spells of an apprentice around the wizard’s abode. Once again, fate conspired against Maeglin, as the townsfolk grew more and more superstitious, and at the goading of one Maeglin’s childhood bullies, the populace took up arms and marched on the wizard’s home, which was just outside the town limit.
The wizard went out to meet the mob in hopes of restoring peace and buying time as the Tiefling gathered up what he owned and crept out of the cellar. The wizard was quickly stoned to death, and his home was set on fire. Maeglin watched the whole spectacle from the edge of the forest. After the house was little more than embers and ash, the mob dispersed to celebrate their tremendous victory. Embersgrin waited for them to be a safe distance away, then buried the wizard’s bloody body, which had been tied to a post in the front yard. Throwing the last of the dirt on the only kind person in his life, Maeglin Embersgrin made a vow. One day he would return. On that day, judgment would be dealt.
Hate and grief consuming him, he set off down the bumping path with his meager life savings (a whole 60 gold) and the wizard’s most prized possession, The Bog Knife, which Maeglin had received for his 21st birthday. He didn’t care where he went, as long as it was away from here. Traveling for about a week, the weary tiefling came upon a town. Granted access to the town, Maeglin began doing odd jobs and earning money, and was known for his sharp wit and scathing tongue. One day, after clearing rats out of a citizen’s attic, Embersgrin was approached by a merchant in need of escort to the town of Fallscrest. Maeglin was eager to leave, and the money the merchant offered sealed the deal.