*bound in the flesh of human children, taken from their shaven scalps*
I have been in the Underdark two years now, more than half of that time I have been a free orc. Few adventurers can say that, and I've accumulated great wealth here finally. Soon I will earn my reward and retire from conflicts to become a shaman and deathkeener in truth. Only a final task remains.
My time on the surface is nothing but shame. Only a few details are worth knowing, to help others understand how far I've risen.
My mother was an adventurer, a bardicly trained sorceress in the city of Silverymoon. I was raised to be human, civilized. Silverymoon does not show its hatred of half-orcs as most human cities. Its open tolerance of diversity lends it credence, it is strong and powerful. Yet mother never understood me, who I was, what it meant to grow up without a father.
On my sixteenth birthday I ran away from home to find my father. His tribe was rumored to be near Eltabbar in Thay. He was a powerful grey orc, a deathsinger--capable of channeling and speaking to his dead ancestors. He'd captured my mother when she was an adventurer and had his way with her as the tribe watched on. My mother told me this to disway me from seeking him out, it just proved what I'd always suspected-she was too weak to give herself to a man willingly. The strong take what they deserve from the weak.
I just didn't understand the ramifications of that.
I found my father. Croulnar Deathkeener in the mountains above Eltabbar. I'd joined a party of Thayan wizards hiring mercenaries hoping to eliminate father's tribe once and for all, stop their raids against caravans coming to the capital. I betrayed them of course, there is no regret there.
My clan took me in. Father trained me in the arts of the deathkneller, taught me the names of his ancestors during the winter. I learned all I could of the clan, learning quickly they are not as tolerant as Silverymoon was of weakness. They beat me, humiliated me, and I thought it was a test to make me stronger.
It was purely cruelty.
As soon as spring rolled around, my "clan" sold the weak half-blood bastard human to the Thayan slavers. They only taught me out of jest, never believing I'd master their arts.
I learned. Every lesson though they could teach. I learned it all.