So this is the background story for the cleric I'm thinking of, what do you think? Sblocked it since it's kind of long, feel free to be rough on it.
[sblock=Sund]He woke up... It was a dark prison cell, damp and smelling of rot and dead creatures. No light entered the cell, even the solid stone door closed without so much as a sliver between it and the thick stone walls that surrounded the Drow. Sund slammed his palm into the wall, cursing Kalstad for the thousandth time as the pain shot through his arm. Rubbing his much tattooed arm he looked up, “What in the name of Hadeys do you want with me, you old tottering bag of elf piss!?”
Sund ran his hand through his dirty white hair, “I am not going to help you in your plans; I’m done with your screwed up plans. Done! You hear me!? Do you need me to spell it out for you? I don’t care if you leave me here to rot or if this whole place falls down on top of me.”
Sund sat down with his back against the wall, arms crossed over his knees as he cursed the name of Kalstad for the thousandth and one time…
It all began back in that bar on Bacarte when that bastard Drafus told him that he had a job for him. Little did he know that a quick roof job would end him up in the most secure prison in the Isles. It all fell apart when he picked up the display case full of coins. He was supposed to grab the coins and meet his buyer back in Bacarte, but as he picked up the case one of the coins dropped to the floor where it spun like a top. Cursing as he often did, he bent down to pick it up, and as he did a crossbow bolt split the air where he had been. Cursing again he dived to the window and leapt out, and the chase began. He avoided the guards for most of the night, his cloud of darkness helping him to escape most of them, but he was unable to get past the bugbear and gnoll at the end when they had trapped him in the alley. He groaned just thinking about the beating they had given him, and that had been months ago…
Since they had tossed him in here Kalstad came to him occasionally, sometimes in a human form, and once he had even come as a Drow. Kalstad seemed to prefer his godly form of a form wrapped in darkness. It seemed like he though there was something dramatic about it. Truthfully Sund didn’t care how he showed himself; he just wanted his freedom back. He was almost tempted to take Kalstad up on his offer but he wasn’t going to give in, not to this half god or any other god.
He dipped his finger into the tasteless gruel; at least today it was almost warm. Maybe he could figure a way out of this place, he thought for a second, before remembering that he was surrounded by solid stone. There was no mortar for him to chip away at and he had nothing strong enough to even scratch these walls. He wasn’t even sure how his food got here; save for that every few days he passed out from lack of sustenance and when he woke up the food was there. He’d tried faking weakness and passing out but the only thing that happened was he really ended up passing out.
As he cleaned the gruel from his fingers he looked up to see Kalstad standing before him. He had chosen the human form again and with a snarl Sund threw his bowl of gruel at the god’s form. Striking him in the head it shattered against the floor, spraying a mixture of gruel and ceramic shards across Sund’s sleeping pad. Kalstad didn’t flinch, just standing there with his damnable all-knowing stare. The gruel that was splattered across his face brought a smirk to Sund’s thin mouth.
“I came here to make a deal; if you don’t want to talk I’ll just come another time.” With these words Kalstad faded away in a second and disappeared. “Damn you! Get back here you puss-filled beholder’s ass.”
He sighed, his shoulders dropping for a moment. Shaking himself out of it he stood up and went to work cleaning up. Pushing the hay that formed his sleeping pad into a pile he moved it all against the door, hoping that next time he passed out they would have replaced it. He turned away from the door and say Kalstad standing there again, still in his human form, though the gruel was gone.
“Alright, what’s this deal you want to talk about?” Asked Sund, tired of spending his life in a cell. Kalstad smiled, “Finally ready to listen to reason are we? How’s this… I’ll get you out, give you a fresh start in Daunton and you’ll be my cleric. You’ll find a few rogues and the like who follow me but I’m really not all that demanding. In fact service to me can be quite rewarding.” As he says this Sund is now standing in a great mansion where he sees himself surrounded by gold, treasures, and beautiful maidens. The scene fades as quickly as it came; replaced by the cell Sund has been locked away in. The scene is different now and Sund sees himself as an emaciated old Drow collapsing against the wall breathing his last rattling breaths.
“It’s your choice Sundaveryan’il, will you follow me or should I leave you to your fate?”
Sund nodded, not even asking how the demigod knew his name. The next thing he knew he was standing in front of the Hanged Man. He looked himself up and down, he was newly equipped and it seemed that somewhere along the way he had been cleaned up, even his scars from his last misadventure were gone. Looking down at his much tattooed left arm he saw a new tattoo on the back of his fist. It was an old gold coin, wreathed in a halo of dark blue flames.
Shrugging, he reached up to straighten his new black cloak, and as he did he felt a new amulet about his neck. Reaching into his dark blue tunic he pulled out a large gold coin that was an identical match for the one in his tattoo, save for the halo of flames. Looking again at the two identical coins he realized that they both were identical to the one that he had picked up off the floor of that botched job.[/sblock]
