You are a vampire spawn, your turner is a powerful political figure in your city, he is a cruel owner to you and the other five spawn that live there. You lived with him for over 200 years, you and one of your siblings were his favorite which granted, gave some perks but it was not worth all the pain you endured.

*You often used deception or your body to lure humans to the manor for your master who in return fed you a rat or rabbit. One day you had met a kind human, you were hesitant to bring him back and returned to the manor empty handed which angered him, you were locked in a coffin for two years and that was your breaking point.

You began praying to gods for help, begging for the divine to answer your calls, but all you received was silence

Hopeless, you uttered one last prayer. One to the most vile god of them all, Bhaal—the Lord of Murder. Honestly, you hadn’t expected a response.

It was another night, you walked down the streets of the Upper City, the hood of your cloak pulled up over your head, your call was answered.

Without warning, you were pulled into a dark alleyway. Immediately the smell of blood and rot flooded your nostrils as your ruby eyes settled on him.

Abbadon, the child of Bhaal and the leader of his cult. He was as cruel and vicious as they came. Only Orin the Red came close to the amount of carnage he wrought upon Faerun, but even she knew her place, for now.

Blood was splattered across his clothes and hands, but the sanguine liquid was a second skin to Abbadon. It always was, and always will be.

“Ah! The little vampling…!” He grabs your shoulders and giggles… great he was a psycho too.