Nemesis

Tiefling / Sorcerer

Submitted character story

Defining moment:
She comes from simple beginnings; not an uncommon upbringing for someone who looks like her. She was born just outside of Thundertree, alone, her mother having died in childbirth and father long since gone. A kind stranger happened upon her and brought her in, raising her like their own, until she was 19. The people at this post were kind and welcoming in their beliefs, and aided the stranger all they could in helping this child grow strong and brave, until she turned 19.

One night, Mt Hotenow, the mountain range on the outskirts of Thundertree, erupted and sent the city into ash. Having not felt the heat, Nemesis woke up to find the charred body of their caregiver lying in the ruins. The town decimated and hollow, this tragedy took everything from her. She needed to get away from this carnage, so she fled as fast as she could and happened upon a military settlement to the east. After questioning and calming down, she was recruited into their guard, taking on mostly nighttime patrols. After a few years, she had become comfortable with this arrangement, excelling in her role, though her excellence also made her a prominent pain in the ass for enemies. That is until one night.

Nemesis was just about to come in from her 9th patrol of the week, covering for a few mates who had fallen ill, but all at once, she felt a heavy thud against her skull and the world went black. When she came to, she was in an unfamiliar place, strapped down in chains. There were two guards on either side of her and authoritative looking man in the middle, who just realized that she was awake. He came over and tried questioning me on the working of my base and superiors (NOTHING), he tried dissecting my loyalty and nature (NOTHING), he tried to bribe me into talking (NOTHING), all to no avail. He was done talking and moved onto more brutal methods - they brought a torch and tried to burn the info out of me (apparently, no one knows that tieflings have heat resistance). When that did not work, it got so much worse.

The room cleared except for the man (she will never forget the sadistic look he had in his eyes), who circled her, eyeing her up and down with disgust. His fingers were clutching a a handful of syringes and vials filled with a blackish-green liquid that bubbled as he moved. He talked about seeing her as a disgrace to the natural order, an omen, a plague-filled pest of no worth that needed eradication. Eventually, he stopped behind her and uncorked the vials, grabbing her tail and pouring a vial down the tip. It sizzled and corroded the scales and skin, flesh sloughing onto the floor. He did the same to her ears, fingertips, toes and horns. Vial after vial, piles of corroded flesh were collecting on the floor as he began injecting the poison into her body, rotting her from the inside (she could only imagine that this is how her loved ones felt during the tragedy). Nemesis would not succumb to his abuse, no matter the agony, so he grabbed the last flask of poison and grabbed her by the jaw, prying her mouth open, and forced every ounce down her throat. He stepped back as her watched her gag and writhe; cursing her existence; but she was dying proud, knowing that he achieved nothing. Her world was fading to black once again, but there was still something writhing in her belly as she remembered her loved ones and home. Then, something she would never have thought happened.

Just as she went limp, the feeling in her belly exploded, igniting the blood and poison in her body, charging it with a power Nemesis had never felt. Her rotted body, now pieced together, but singed and blackened, was dripping in the same poison used to torture her. In blinding fury, she tore through her restraints and her guards, now ripped into pieces, flesh corroding just the same, but she could not find the man who did this. She escaped and ran back to her encampment, only to find it burned to the ground, all her friends and comrades bloodied and rotted with the same poison she had survived. Her loved ones taken from her again, she was once again left with nothing, except her pain and powers that only reminded her of what she lost.

She has no past to return, no present to enjoy, and seemingly, no future to look forward to. She wanders aimlessly from town to town, unable to trust, or touch, or sleep, just replaying the death she has lived through and looking for the face of the man who caused it.

Archetype: You're the The Poison Made Pure. She carries what broke her, unbroken, and turns corrosion into holy defiance.

Personality: Never breaks first