(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

or one you won't give?"
Her rosebud lips quirked in a soft smile, "Ah! You do have a way of drawing
answers from others. But a lady must have some secrets."
"I'm sorry if it's impertinent, Grace. I'd just like to know more about you. I
know Morte so well, and Dak'kon, and Annah. I have no idea what goes
through Nordom's head- that's his nature, I suppose. But I don't know much
about you."
The smile faded from her face, and she used the lingering stub of the candle
to light a new one. Her eyes stared into the budding flame, and shone with a
pained sobriety, "That is correct. Yves needs no more tales adding to her
misery... and my tale would not serve her search for truth."
"Would you tell me?"
"It is a long tale, and not as interesting as some would make it out to be."
She sighed. "It is intertwined in other tales of war and slavery - it is not a
pleasant story."
"I would still hear it."
"Very well... know my past is not a long one, at least by tanar'ri standards. I
do not know if you are familiar with the tanar'ri, but we are a race of the
Abyss, a staggered series of Planes filled with chaos and evil hearts."
Her hands folded in her lap, and she looked up into my eyes. I felt a little
lightheaded, and was held in place by her gaze. "I am a tanar'ri, a fiend, a
succubus... I grew up upon the first plane of the Abyss. My mother, Red
Shroud, was a succubus herself - as I'm sure you are aware, succubi tempt
mortals to bring their souls to the Abyss. My mother was among the finest,
seducing countless mortal men to their eternal damnation. She now dwells
in the Abyss, selling her children into slavery."
I felt my hands tighten at my sides, "Your mother sold you into slavery?"
"Yes, she sold me to the baatezu, the blood enemies of the tanar'ri. I think
she rather expected that they would kill me -- despite her knowledge of
other subjects, she knows little of their culture and the delight they take in
tormenting others."
1002