[Kzrox]

*****This Is the Background for Kzrox, the character After the reset of the server******

                     The cool night breeze drifted through the open window over the writing desk, causing the edges of the paper to flutter slightly, only held in place by the small round paper weights, designed to keep the page flat and still during writing.  The bright sliver of moon overhead, cast deep shadows over the man sitting before the desk, and with that silvery light comes the sounds of the streets of Eltabbar below, an accompaniment to the quill scratching softly on the page.  Each letter formed carefully and seeming to shimmer slightly as it is formed in the moonlight. 
                       Most would find the wan light of the recently new moon to be insufficient for writing, but the arcane skill of this writer amplified his ability to see in the night, so that it was as clear as it would be under a bright noonday sun.  The date written on the upper corner of the paper, right beside the metal disk holding the upper right corner down was as important to him as the message itself.   Those with the skill to perceive the flow of magic would be able to see that as he writes, he is subtly infusing the letters with a magic that is very difficult, if not impossible, to detect.  The results of this is that when you read the message, now nearing completion, most would simply see a report on the day to day operations of a powerful ruling house within the city.  But its recipient, a young neice of the Tharchioness of the city of Eltabbar named Hatiana, knew the secret of these words.  How to adjust for the astrological alignment, based on the date of the page, to read it only under a night sky, and the word of activation that would change those bland words of a report into the real message.
                       Words of love and the fact that they must fly soon from the city, before they are caught.  Revealed in their affair.   For more than 2 [/font]years now, the couple had been interacting this way to arrange their hidden rendezvous, where they could share their love for one another.
                       At first, the two met as the Apprentice Red Wizard was sent to assist with a political matter, one of the intricate moves of the political rulers, and the arcane brotherhood of mages, who truly lead the country of Thay, plotted and shifted their plans to keep and grow their power.   The Task for the Wizard’s Apprentice was simply to provide safety for the Young Rulers neice as she spoke for her family.  The trip was uneventful and Hatiana arranged a solid trade deal, while the promising apprentice’s presence added just the right amount of support to keep the negotiations safe and honest.  And in that, the two had become friends, at first.
                       Then a month later the two were paired up again this time to carry a declaration to one of the more rural towns of the Tharchion’s control.  The proclamation was met with anger and resentment, as it was not viewed favorably by the town.  Unfortunately for a certain drunk trapper, who had the half thought to take the Lady Hatiana captive and use her as leverage to force the Tharchion to relent.  The spell that the apprentice used was one intended to teach a lesson, it was bright, far more powerful than needed, and permanent, a lesson in why not to disobey anyone wearing red robes.
                       The man’s charred husk fell, lifeless even as the burned ash of his skin drifted away from his charred bones, the flames devouring the foolish man in a blue-white bout of heat so intense that many had to back away from, even being near the body for several minutes, unless they wanted to burn as well, all before the Legion soldiers that were the mundane guards of the troop could draw their weapons. 
                       This is what changed their relationship.  Traxz, the wizards promising apprentice, and Hatiana knew that a public bonding would be unacceptable.  He was dedicated to the Red Wizards, she to her mother’s rule, so, they grew quietly closer.  Secretly they would send these messages, not too often, but never as often as they would like.
                       Now, more than two years since that day, Traxz had learned that Hatiana was pregnant.  And that spelled the end of the secrecy.  No amount of magic could hide a pregnancy long, If he had been able to perform the Red Wizard trials, things could have been different, but he didn’t get to decide when those happened, his master did.  Which could be tomorrow… or never.  And that is assuming he did not die in the attempt.  That left only one option, they had to flee.  To find a quiet corner of the world where they could settle in and hide from the inevitable wrath of the Red Wizards, assassins and the political might of the Tharchioness.  Someplace else.
                       Two days passed nervously, but in response Hatiana set a place they would meet and board a ship, to travel together and find that quiet place they both wanted.  It was a betrayal, just to want this rather than to keep his dedication to his master and to magical learning was enough to earn a death sentence in Thay, let alone defying them by fleeing like this, but there was no other way.
                       The real miracle is that the plan succeeded.  Many had tried for all kinds of reasons, to flee from Thay, slaves running from their owners, women from men, weak from the powerful, but few ever succeeded.  Hatiana took a small fortune in gems and jewelry while Traxz brought what magic he could safely gather.  An array of books on the arcane, and his family’s prized arcane belt, which was said to protect the user based on their own arcane skills.
                       Twice as they traveled, their luck nearly failed. Assassins caught up with them, and set upon them, likely to just bring proof of their deaths back to their employer. But both times they underestimated the power of the apprentice, to their own detriment.   This did keep the couple moving though, not wanting to stop till they were sure that they were no longer being tracked, always fearful that more assassins would show up.
                       Finally, as the day of the child’s birth grew near, Traxz knew that they would have to stop, and he prayed that they had traveled far enough, confused their trail enough to be safe.  That they were where none could find them.
                       The place they stopped was a small rural town without even a name. It was a crossroads farming town along the western coast of the continent.  They managed to find an old cottage and purchased it along with a small bit of land that went with it, just outside of town.   Traxz knew that power itself could only protect them so far, and now it was time for deception to do its part.
                       But even as the midwife delivered the child, more eyes watched the cottage than the young couple could know.  In a tower, most of the way across the world, a lean Red Wizard named Lipold watched, joined by another figure, shrouded in a red hooded robe, and shadows.  The room quiet as they watched the addition to the world with cold eyes.
                       “You commanded that we stop chasing them and let them go.  Lord Zulkir, So we have done as you commanded” Even a red wizard did not defy one of the Zulkirs, leaders of Thay, most powerful of powerful wizards and politically undeniable on pain of death.  “Now the child is born, even as you willed it.” Lipold broke the silence, even as they watched the midwife tending to the exhausted mother, and newborn baby, clearly bawling loudly even though no sound came through the scrying basin.
                       A sighing sibilant voice responds softly “Yes, let them live their little lives, watch them, we may need the child and from that we will gain a sweeter revenge than simply killing them” He speaks simply.  "The Tharchioness will be upset, If she ever finds out about this.  So for now, we will keep her unknowning.  If she finds out, I will deal with it then."
                       Years passed, watched by those eyes.  The couple grew their hair, as it's common in Thay to keep oneself shaved. Indeed they view not shaving your head as a sign of barbarism.  Also traditional tattooing is normal on the face and body, so they took to hiding those behind hoods, and with certain covering makeup, though it was impossible to hide completely.  Here in this small village though, few asked too much, simply viewing them as an oddity, but that would be true no matter what they looked like.
                       In a larger city it might go unnoticed when a couple showed up suddenly and then be forgotten, but in a small village it would cast a shadow of remembrance that would never go away, and stories would always exist about it.  But they would be isolated to the town and thus safer.
                       Thirteen years later, the morning sun peeked through the shutters of the window to fall on the child sleeping on the simple pallet that almost completely filled the smallest room of the cottage.  Kzrox, a small wiry boy with short dark hair opened one hazel eyes at the light that awakened him, then both eyes popped open as the dawn reminded him of what a special day today is.
                       For years his mornings were occupied with those tasks that filled a child’s day, playing with the other children, swimming in the stream and the many imaginative games children could devise from soldier to pirate, to games with makeshift cloth balls, that were often just rags stuffed into a seed bag and then tied shut.  In the years here, his fellow children had learned that Kzrox would always excel at games of wit and intellect, to the point that few of them even enjoyed the games, but physical games were a much fairer competition, so they often played those games when he was around so everyone would enjoy it.  Kzrox was aware of this, and the resentment that it sometimes created, so he didn’t really mind.
                       His afternoons and evenings though, were when he focused on learning, which he loved a great deal. His father taught him the language of dragons and magic, and a language he was forbidden from using around others, the language of his ancestors, Mulhorandi.
                       But today the thing he really wanted begins.  His training in the use of magic itself, and his first day of real work.  His father insisted that he have an apprenticeship outside of the house, and so had arranged for him to assist the local merchant, who needed a set of hands, as his youngest son was moving to start his own shop after his apprenticeship had now ended.  And he had to do this before his true training would start in the afternoon.
                       After an excited wash in the water basin, the warm scented water showing his mother had already been busy this morning, he dressed with more care than usual, even though he only had the one tunic and breeches, rushed out and sat at the table to eat.  Breakfast was ready on the table, but his father was already busy in the shop behind the cottage, where he fashioned musical instruments that would be shipped to the cities and towns for bards to buy and use in their entertainment.
                       After eating quickly, kissing his mother’s cheek and shouting a ‘Goodbye Dad!” to his father, he raced down the wagon rutted path toward the town.  Traxz and his beloved Hatiana both stepped onto the front lawn of the cottage their facial tattoos barely visible on their lined and weathered faces and smiled after the boy they both loved.  They stood together holding hands until the newest addition to the family, the one-year-old daughter Fatima, began to burble from inside and this called them back to the tasks that occupied their lives, and through them, they showed a deeper and more abiding love for each other.
                       Kzrox on the other hand, sped down the way to the heart of the town and, slowing only at the last moment before entering the merchant’s shop, to keep from banging the door on his way inside, he started his first day of apprenticeship.
                       Jon, the old merchant was a giant of a man by any standard.  The townsfolk said he was from a northern stock where the barbarians are rumored to regularly grow to over 7 feet tall, though Jon is only 6’7”, and gigantically broad in his chest and belly.  Kzrox had a passing thought that perhaps he was part hill giant?  Jon’s deep voice boomed out “Your almost late boy!” Though his tone is jovial, as it usually was with Kzrox.  Jon got along well with Kzrox’s parents, and they all liked each other. “Be sure your always punctual, It shows respect for others time!” This is one of Jon’s more common wise sayings, one he had used many times before.
                       The day went well, Kzrox is sharp of mind and attentive to details in the jobs he is given.  After about 2, he is released to return home and do his tasks there. This was normal in such a small village, with so may tasks in each home, just to survive.
                       No one thought of Kzrox as a friend, and he knew that, they were friendly, for the most part, but he was viewed as decent, if a bit odd.  A lot of that was because of his parents’ tattooed faces and the stories of their arrival just before he was born.  One that was not so accepting though was Matthew, the blacksmiths son and apprentice.  Matt is the opposite of Kzrox in most ways.  Where the 13-year-old Kzrox is small, wiry and smart, the 15 year old Matt was huge, strong and loud, and never let anyone forget that while his grandfather was the first smith in the town, and helped start the village, Kzrox is the odd child of those ‘strange new people with the ugly scars on their faces” Today though isn’t much different than any other for Matt.
                       When Kzrox came out from the merchant’s shop, matt was waiting with one of his favorite insults ‘Hey Pox-boy!  That’s what messed up your parents faces right, some strange pox and they were kicked out of your real home because of it!”
                       Kzrox had been told about the tattoos and in fact had one of his own on his chest.  His father said it indicated his family but wouldn’t elaborate more about it.  Kzrox was no coward, but he knew no one was going to stop Matt.  His father approved of the behavior, and they had to get things from the smith to survive, so they stayed silent to the behavior.  It wasn’t just to Kzrox, but his nature made Kzrox his favorite target by far.  More than once, Matt had cornered him like this, but today Kzrox wasn’t going to het it get to him.  Smaller, faster and smarter, he made to the left and when Matt shifted, he darted right, grabbing the end of the rope that Matt used as a belt, yanking it free as he slipped under the larger boy’s arms to fly past him.   It was close, Kzrox could feel the brush of Matt’s massive arm as it went over his head, but Matt was distracted as his pants fell to his knees from the loss of his belt.  Prevented from immediate chase, as well, it left Kzrox to run off laughing all the way home.  Even as he approached the cottage, his father standing out front arms crossed, he could still hear the embarrassed howls from Matt following him.
                       His father looked at him with a neutral expression, only to ask, “What is that barbarian howl following you?”  Kzrox’s parents often called most of the villager’s barbarians, in private.  Hatiana wanted to intervene in the conflict with Matt and Kzrox, but his father was adamant that they not do so.  He often stated simply, to finish any argument “It’s a good character-building exercise, he won’t make friends of everyone, he needs to know how to handle being disliked.’
                       Without hesitation Kzrox quickly told his father who screamed, and why.  And his father seemed neither pleased, nor displeased by the tale, simply nodding “Downstairs then, we will start your lessons.”
Shortly after their arrival, Traxz had used his arcane skills to open a hidden basement under the cottage that the villagers did not know about. It was here that his studies always occurred. Once downstairs, they reviewed the political structure, and class system of their home Thay, from the slave caste up through to the Zulkirs, who had ultimate authority.  This was not the first time they covered this nor was Thay the only culture they studied, but it was one of the most returned to.  Kzrox often thought that this was a way of his father remembering his home, that he missed.
                       Alchemy was one of the earliest studies that he had begun, but today one of the books wrapped in soft cloth and kept on the highest shelf was taken down.  It contained the beginning lessons in the manipulation of the weave… magic.
                       For three years this was his routine.  Mornings working with the merchant, afternoons with his father in study and often the same ambush from Matt.  Most of the time he would get away from Matt, but sometimes he would get the worse end of it and get whipped by the larger boy.  Despite that, his father was strict in forbidding him to use his growing magic talent to avoid or harm the larger boy.  He insisted that he could not openly use magic, and that if he did, his instruction would end immediately.   He never got upset though, win or lose, about the conflict with Matt.  One thing Kzrox noticed more and more, the whole town would watch, almost cheering for him, but never would interfere.
                       Finally, though, Kzrox’s father took him aside the now 16-year-old young man, the day after he accomplished his first real spell, one that was more than just a cantrip level of power but was a true spell perfectly formed and repeatable in nature.  Traxz gave his son one of his rare open smiles “Son, you are now officially a mages apprentice, able to forge your own path in magic.” He advised his son proudly. “Traditionally two things are granted to a new mage.  The first is this” and he drew out a book, “This is your book to fill with your own magic.  There are a few spells in there for you to start, ones you already are familiar with.” And then he stood and drew off the belt that he had always worn. “And this was worn by every ancestor of our family who has wielded magic and worked the weave.  It will grow with you and serve to protect you as you study.  Now your mother also has a gift for you, when we go upstairs. This is a day for us to celebrate.”
                       Kzrox realized that he was a real mage suddenly, he hadn’t realized how he had grown into that role, but his imagination had barely touched on what that might have really meant for all the years of study, but it was here now, and it was real.  He felt as though his whole world had opened for him.
                       As the two came up the stairs, he saw his mother’s gift, laid out on the table for him to see.  A set of Charcoal grey robes, with boots and a cloak, batched with a soft fur trim and a hand stitched brocade inlayed on them.  Kzrox was stunned, they were Magnificent new clothes, finer than anything he had before, and there was, he could see, a pack that was designed to fit under the cloak hidden from prying eyes, where he could keep his Book and other important tools.
                       With a grin of excitement that almost had his hands trembling, he took the robes in and changed, to try them on, they fit perfectly.  And as he came out to show them off to his parents, and little sister, who was grinning impishly and offered “I helped mama make them!”   He felt like he was 3 feet taller and as magnificent as any king could be. He normally wasn’t one to show off, but he couldn’t help himself in this case, turning to show the whole look and how perfect it was.
                       Everyone was overjoyed, until they heard it.  Sounds from outside, a crowd from the sounds of it. A large one.  Together they all walked to the door and stepped out, his parents ahead of him, only to find a sight that confused him.  In front of the house there was a group of about 20-25 people.  Most of them were strangers, some with shaved heads, almost all of them tattooed and one of them was a young man in red robes, and the fiercest tattoo’s that Kzrox had ever seen.
                       Through the years, often one of the two Red Wizards had watched the boy.  Pleased to see that events were going as the Zulkir had predicted, in fact, recently one of the dreaded tasks of the Lipol's apprentices was to ‘go check on the boy’ Then they would have to go to the scrying room and call on the magic of the basin to just watch this ordinary seeming boy.  Most of the time it was just a kid doing normal barbarian things.  Sometimes he was clearly studying magic or other things, but this task had never been interesting in any way.
                       Today was different though.  When Dul-so called upon the image he was stunned into calling out loudly “Master! Come quickly.”  He didn’t know why his master was obsessed with this boy, but he was.  And he would want to see this himself at the least.
                       The Red wizard Lipold knew his apprentice would not call on him for nothing.  The price for doing so would be too high, so he made his way over without delay, not appearing to hurry either.  As he looked at the scene, it was enough to make his blood boil and turn cold at once, as he whispers, “She found them!” to himself.
                       What he saw was the boy in his new robes, coming out behind his parents, and facing a mob of people, clearly slavers, and a Red Wizard, one he didn’t know.  No sound came through the basin, but the belligerent attitude was clear in the parties.  The smith’s boy, a frequent adversary for Kzrox was among the slavers, guiding them to his home, and pointing accusingly at the family.  Without delaying he spoke to his Apprentice “Go, alert the Zulkir, there is a message stone on the shelf of my office, activate it and tell him what is going on.”  The apprentice didn’t delay, the tone in his master’s voice told him that even a second could cost him his life for disobeying.
                       The image was growing worse, but no one was there to see it, the Red Wizard had vanished.  But that would be little comfort to those at the cottage.  The spell that was dropped among the slavers, was devastating.  Only the Red Wizard had a chance as the fire exploded from the center of the group, and men fell dead, including Matthew.  Even the wizard, was singed and blown back a few feet, but otherwise was only slightly hurt.   Traxz barked to his wife to take the children and run, and she didn’t hesitate, grabbing the little girl in her arms and forcing Kzrox to run through the house with her.
                       “No matter what, just keep running Kzrox. Don’t stop!” she ordered as they burst out the back door, intending to run into the woods. Five men waited there though. Grabbing the girl from her mothers’ arms before she could start to resist.  And laughing, thinking this would be easy, one fell to an arcane blast from Kzrox himself, while his mother screamed “RUN!” and threw herself at the men to fight for her daughter. 
                       Obeying his mother was natural for him, so Kzrox did. He ran, fleeing into the woods.  He knew some of them followed him, and he hoped that would give his mother a chance.  Behind him though he didn’t know what was happening. 
                       Kzrox’s father was locked in battle.   It had been years since he had to face such a skilled mage, so it was a near thing.  But he was winning, he was going to protect his family.  Until a globe of translucent air formed around him.  Imprisoning him in place and isolating him from the one he was fighting. 
                       The Zulkir, shrouded in shadow and red robes, extended a long finger “Leave, take the village if you want slaves.”  He only watched for a moment as the young Red Wizard scrambled away hurriedly.  Then turned and addressed Traxz. “he will come with me. !f you want to follow then we will take your wife and daughter as well.  Her Mother would be most happy with that turn of events.”   Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked into the cottage.  Four words are all it took to release the bound mother and daughter “Go, now.  Leave them” and sent the slavers after the Red Wizard at a dead run. 
                       Meanwhile Lipold, the Red Wizard master, appeared to intervene in those that were chasing Kzrox.   And this. This is where the real story begins.