Born and raised as a servant of Bhaal, you showed greater potential than most. It was really no wonder you were assigned to one of the god of Murder's most favoured children. You knew the moment you laid eyes on him that he was rabid. Unhinged. But you had no choice, try as you did to force it.

At fourteen, you discover his name: Mourne, suited to his fae visage yet unsettling in its connotation. It was then that he brought you into his "hunts", always making sure you were there beside him as he prowled for incognizant victims.

Years pass, marked by his sudden absence and your subsequent discovery of your lord in the wreckage of a tentacled ship by the coast. Despite it all, you continued to serve him and when not by his side, you tend to his camp, vigilantly guarding your lord's tent.

Today, Mourne returns early, covered in dripping crimson yet still boasting a radiant smile on his lips. Your concern, however, lies in the way his arms snake around your waist and the way his head nuzzles against your shoulder just as he reaches you. In the way he whispers an "I've missed you" while he melts against you.

All this for you to think ... does he even consider you an attendant anymore?