Ishmael
Ishmael Al-Zahhak (Ish-mayl Ahl-zah-hawk, "God Will Hear, Son of Zahhak") is a mercenary captain residing in the Amol-Kalit region. His ambition is to someday burn the slaver capital of Arethil, Cerak At'Thul, to the ground.
History
It is said that the world is a cruel and dangerous place. Some would assume that it is the whims of nature or literal monsters which make it so. Yet, there exist men like Zahhak Al-Mardas who are equally responsible. This sordid individual was born into wealth and power aplenty. Despite this, Zahhak spent his life craving more. As his twilight years inched ever closer, his obsession with might and fortune shifted dramatically. He sought a way to spit in the face of the gods themselves by circumventing their Laws and acquiring life everlasting. Thus, he made a home for himself in the pinnacle of Arethil's despair: Cerak At'Thul.
Here, the laws of civilization could not reach. Here, there was an endless supply of "willing" test subjects. For years, Zahhak indulged in practices that would make the most hardened slaver shudder. He would purchase young slaves of various races, particularly women, and expose them to excruciating magics. Their lives would pay the price for each bloody step he took towards eternity. And, when Zahhak would take moments away from his ambitions, he would subject his victims to abuses of the flesh. Should they survive, they would find no justice. Nor would they find the sweet release of death. Ever cruel, he would resell his shattered slaves back into servitude.
The cycle continued for years until an elf named Deva arrived before him. Like those who had come before, she was tormented by magic and more. Yet, the result was something unexpected - the Demon of Cerak At'Thul would soon welcome a progeny into the world. Amused by this turn of events, Zahhak conducted even more tests to see if his unborn child would prove valuable to his ambitions. And, upon the day of the child's birth, he draped the baby in purple as if to welcome a noble. So it was that Ishmael Al-Zahhak came to be. For a brief, shining moment, Zahhak's obsession with immortality shifted towards legacy. Perhaps, if he could not live forever, then this child could carry on his work.
Thus, for the first six years of Ishmael's life, he was spared from direct experimentation - yet the abuse continued. As soon as Ishmael could walk, he was made to assist the man in his efforts. Be it forcing potions down throats or helping cart away fallen bodies. Yet, when Ishmael was six years old, Zahhak tired of the boy's apparent lack of power. He never spared a moment to realize that Ishmael's frailties were due to his upbringing in a sunless cell; and thus, the blame was placed upon Deva's elven heritage. Frustrated, her scarred his son's face with lightning before angrily selling both into servitude. As far as the madman was concerned, he had no son.
Fortune would have it that Deva was able to stay with her son, despite their harsh journey across the ocean. They would first arrive in Annuakat, where their luck seemingly continued. As Deva was eyed for sale to a household, her fierce clinging to the young Ishmael saw them purchased together - a rare mercy afforded to slaves. The two were bound for a journey eastward to Vel Anir via their new owner's caravan when disaster struck...for the owner. From out of the sands sprang assailants that slaughtered the camels and eviscerated the guards. Deva had shed many tears during her captivity, but that day was the first that they were from joy. For unbeknownst to Ishmael, her mother's people - the Sand Elves - had liberated them.
Here, the laws of civilization could not reach. Here, there was an endless supply of "willing" test subjects. For years, Zahhak indulged in practices that would make the most hardened slaver shudder. He would purchase young slaves of various races, particularly women, and expose them to excruciating magics. Their lives would pay the price for each bloody step he took towards eternity. And, when Zahhak would take moments away from his ambitions, he would subject his victims to abuses of the flesh. Should they survive, they would find no justice. Nor would they find the sweet release of death. Ever cruel, he would resell his shattered slaves back into servitude.
The cycle continued for years until an elf named Deva arrived before him. Like those who had come before, she was tormented by magic and more. Yet, the result was something unexpected - the Demon of Cerak At'Thul would soon welcome a progeny into the world. Amused by this turn of events, Zahhak conducted even more tests to see if his unborn child would prove valuable to his ambitions. And, upon the day of the child's birth, he draped the baby in purple as if to welcome a noble. So it was that Ishmael Al-Zahhak came to be. For a brief, shining moment, Zahhak's obsession with immortality shifted towards legacy. Perhaps, if he could not live forever, then this child could carry on his work.
Thus, for the first six years of Ishmael's life, he was spared from direct experimentation - yet the abuse continued. As soon as Ishmael could walk, he was made to assist the man in his efforts. Be it forcing potions down throats or helping cart away fallen bodies. Yet, when Ishmael was six years old, Zahhak tired of the boy's apparent lack of power. He never spared a moment to realize that Ishmael's frailties were due to his upbringing in a sunless cell; and thus, the blame was placed upon Deva's elven heritage. Frustrated, her scarred his son's face with lightning before angrily selling both into servitude. As far as the madman was concerned, he had no son.
Fortune would have it that Deva was able to stay with her son, despite their harsh journey across the ocean. They would first arrive in Annuakat, where their luck seemingly continued. As Deva was eyed for sale to a household, her fierce clinging to the young Ishmael saw them purchased together - a rare mercy afforded to slaves. The two were bound for a journey eastward to Vel Anir via their new owner's caravan when disaster struck...for the owner. From out of the sands sprang assailants that slaughtered the camels and eviscerated the guards. Deva had shed many tears during her captivity, but that day was the first that they were from joy. For unbeknownst to Ishmael, her mother's people - the Sand Elves - had liberated them.
Zahhak's End
For the first time in Ishmael's life that he knew something other than suffering. Upon returning to their campgrounds, Deva's extended family were quick to take them in. Ishmael knew food, warmth, and a soft bed for the first time in his life. Over the several few years, he would earn his keep through learning the ways of his family members. Specifically, he desired to do as his saviors had done: master the sands in order to strike at caravans. His motivations were more than idolizing those who had saved him...he craved their strength for one purpose. Zahhak Al-Mardas would die by his hand.
When Ishmael became a man, he was given a cut from any caravan spoils to do with as he pleased. What he chose to do was unorthodox by their tribe's standards. Instead of visiting the city and indulging in creature comforts...he'd head to the markets where shipments from Cerak At'Thul were inbound. There, he'd seek out the brands which matched the one upon his shoulder: the sigil of Al-Mardas. Once found, he would offer the strong he could afford a chance, not at freedom, but at vengeance. Those he "purchased" were returned to the tribe and joined him in disrupting caravans.
In time, Ishmael had freed enough strong souls that he was confident in confronting his sire. Pooling their spoils, they purchased the services of a vessel headed to Cerak At'Thul. Ishmael played the part of slaver and his comrades the parts of merchandise. Once across the sea, Ishmael paid handsomely for a private audience with the madman himself. He presented his "slaves", appealed to his desire for suitable test subjects...and revealed himself. The resulting ambush of several freed slaves and his warrior son proved too much for Zahhak to handle. He was ran through by their knives and Ishmael had the pleasure of watching the life drain from his eyes.
But this did next to nothing to sate the young man's anger. He still felt fury at the madman for his upbringing. Fury at Cerak At'Thul for simply existing. Yet there was nothing more he could do. Attempting to liberate the fortress' other victims would only see them killed in the process. Thus, Ishmael settled for pilfering every tome and trinket that his father gathered and returning to his tribe's camp. He tarried there until the Elder decided it was time for them all to move yet again. Such was their way. He could have accompanied them like before. He could have continued to have his freed fighters earn their keep like before. But Ishmael...he didn't know what he wanted, but that was no longer it. Without Zahhak's demise as direction, he felt lost. So he determined to find his own way.
This marked the last time that he saw his mother and extended kin.
When Ishmael became a man, he was given a cut from any caravan spoils to do with as he pleased. What he chose to do was unorthodox by their tribe's standards. Instead of visiting the city and indulging in creature comforts...he'd head to the markets where shipments from Cerak At'Thul were inbound. There, he'd seek out the brands which matched the one upon his shoulder: the sigil of Al-Mardas. Once found, he would offer the strong he could afford a chance, not at freedom, but at vengeance. Those he "purchased" were returned to the tribe and joined him in disrupting caravans.
In time, Ishmael had freed enough strong souls that he was confident in confronting his sire. Pooling their spoils, they purchased the services of a vessel headed to Cerak At'Thul. Ishmael played the part of slaver and his comrades the parts of merchandise. Once across the sea, Ishmael paid handsomely for a private audience with the madman himself. He presented his "slaves", appealed to his desire for suitable test subjects...and revealed himself. The resulting ambush of several freed slaves and his warrior son proved too much for Zahhak to handle. He was ran through by their knives and Ishmael had the pleasure of watching the life drain from his eyes.
But this did next to nothing to sate the young man's anger. He still felt fury at the madman for his upbringing. Fury at Cerak At'Thul for simply existing. Yet there was nothing more he could do. Attempting to liberate the fortress' other victims would only see them killed in the process. Thus, Ishmael settled for pilfering every tome and trinket that his father gathered and returning to his tribe's camp. He tarried there until the Elder decided it was time for them all to move yet again. Such was their way. He could have accompanied them like before. He could have continued to have his freed fighters earn their keep like before. But Ishmael...he didn't know what he wanted, but that was no longer it. Without Zahhak's demise as direction, he felt lost. So he determined to find his own way.
This marked the last time that he saw his mother and extended kin.
A'rika the Assassin
After parting ways with his mother's tribe, Ishmael and his band expanded their operation. Having now separated from the support of experienced Sand Elves, their midst transitioned from traditional banditry to mercenary work. The shift was relatively simple - for they simply turned their typical prey into clients. Escort missions through the desert were the most common jobs, but they were also contracted to assist in the region's occasional skirmishes. Along the way, they also continued to purchase slaves bound for Cerak At'Thul. Primarily this was done due to a collective distaste for the fortress, but also had the secondary effect of bolstering their numbers. It also served as a valuble engine, for slaves soon began to whisper about the "freeman mercenaries." For a while, Ishmael dove into the mercenary trade to distract himself from the fury he felt following Zahhak's demise. Yet, this diversion would only prove temporary.
For he would still feel the anger when he closed his eyes. And when he dreamed, he would remember the black fortress. In time, a new goal danced before his mind's eye: the destruction of Cerak At'Thul. But his band, however growing it was, could not hold a candle to the fortification. There were far too many slavers - and far too many who relied upon its slaves - for them to even dream of an assault. Thus, he opened the trunk which stored his sire's machinations and began to learn magic all the more. Ishmael hoped that by building upon the education provided by his mother's people, he might stand a better chance of burning the fortress down someday. Soon, magic and coin became his obsessions. Though he was not a cruel man like Zahhak, he certainly inherited the man's tunnel vision.
It took a very special liberation for him to live again.
During a visit to the ports of Annuakat, Ishmael found ferocity in the eyes of a slave. It was the same type of ferocity which drove a man to invade a fortress for patricide. On that day, a former assassin named A'rika was given her freedom. In gratitude, she assured Ishmael that she would keep his neck free from the blades of assailants. As the newest addition to his merry band, A'rika quickly proved invaluable. She was adept in getting in and out of locales without detection. She was proficient in using magic. She was ferocious with the sword. Which begged the question: how did such a warrior get placed in chains? Her story was one of misplaced trust. A supposed ally had sold her out during an assassination attempt. Rather than summary execution, she was thrown in chains and shipped to Annuakat to await a life of slavery.
As such, gaining her trust was a monumental hurdle. Ishmael surmounted it in record time. Through having one another's backs and wanting nothing in return, the two came to rely on the other during their missions. And, during the peace between jobs, they spoke ceaselessly. They even...laughed. In time, Ishmael's dreams no longer featured the Fortress so heavily. But rather, they featured A'rika's face and painted whimsical pictures of a life together. Of building their own tribe with many children and enjoying the life of his mother's people. A'rika had similar dreams and soon the two were attached at the hip. Their romance brightened the days and nights of their band, especially when news of Ishmael's firstborn reached his ears.
The idea of being a father both delighted and terrified him. But at the very least, it was not difficult to be different from his own sire.
For he would still feel the anger when he closed his eyes. And when he dreamed, he would remember the black fortress. In time, a new goal danced before his mind's eye: the destruction of Cerak At'Thul. But his band, however growing it was, could not hold a candle to the fortification. There were far too many slavers - and far too many who relied upon its slaves - for them to even dream of an assault. Thus, he opened the trunk which stored his sire's machinations and began to learn magic all the more. Ishmael hoped that by building upon the education provided by his mother's people, he might stand a better chance of burning the fortress down someday. Soon, magic and coin became his obsessions. Though he was not a cruel man like Zahhak, he certainly inherited the man's tunnel vision.
It took a very special liberation for him to live again.
During a visit to the ports of Annuakat, Ishmael found ferocity in the eyes of a slave. It was the same type of ferocity which drove a man to invade a fortress for patricide. On that day, a former assassin named A'rika was given her freedom. In gratitude, she assured Ishmael that she would keep his neck free from the blades of assailants. As the newest addition to his merry band, A'rika quickly proved invaluable. She was adept in getting in and out of locales without detection. She was proficient in using magic. She was ferocious with the sword. Which begged the question: how did such a warrior get placed in chains? Her story was one of misplaced trust. A supposed ally had sold her out during an assassination attempt. Rather than summary execution, she was thrown in chains and shipped to Annuakat to await a life of slavery.
As such, gaining her trust was a monumental hurdle. Ishmael surmounted it in record time. Through having one another's backs and wanting nothing in return, the two came to rely on the other during their missions. And, during the peace between jobs, they spoke ceaselessly. They even...laughed. In time, Ishmael's dreams no longer featured the Fortress so heavily. But rather, they featured A'rika's face and painted whimsical pictures of a life together. Of building their own tribe with many children and enjoying the life of his mother's people. A'rika had similar dreams and soon the two were attached at the hip. Their romance brightened the days and nights of their band, especially when news of Ishmael's firstborn reached his ears.
The idea of being a father both delighted and terrified him. But at the very least, it was not difficult to be different from his own sire.
Leaving Hadashah
On a windy morning, Ishmael paced outside of A'rika's tent. He wanted to be beside his beloved, but the midwives he had brought to camp dismissed him out of the blue. After what seemed like an eternity, Ishmael heard the first cries of a new life. Direction be damned, he rushed inside the tent, only to find that A'rika was not...moving. The midwives were scurrying about her, doing all they could to prevent her demise. But they failed. Ishmael did not even have the chance to hear her final words. Yet, according to one of the midwives, her last was simply a name: Hadashah.
Ishmael would honor A'rika's dying wish. So it was that Hadashah Al-Ishmael was born. Yet with his partner's death, the joy of fatherhood was hollow. His grief was torrential and that old anger that he had forgotten returned with a vengeance. He did his absolute best to be a present a decent father to his child. Her immediate needs were met, yes. She wanted and hungered for nothing, yes. But Hadashah would find little affection in the arms of her father. In time, his dreams would return to that black fortress across the sea.
And his efforts to master the arcane resumed.
For years, Hadashah received nothing short of neglect from her father. It was only when one of his comrades confronted him about this that he did something. Ishmael did not dramatically change his ways. But rather, he sought out the tribe he had departed so long ago. His mother was so very old now...but with her alive, his extended kin would welcome Hadashah. She would know love within their midst and have a chance at a true childhood. And though it pained Ishmael to hear his daughter's cries as he walked away, he firmly believed this was the best course of action. Little did he know that the turmoil that would culminate in the Empire's rise would consume his mother's tribe.
With his daughter's wellbeing accounted for, Ishmael continued down the path that he had for so long. Months turned into years. Years turned into decades. And as the Empire dominated the sands of his mother's people, Ishmael continued to sell his blade and his magic to the highest bidder. He and his band continue to their usual operations, all in the hopes of burning Cerak At'Thul to the ground someday.
Ishmael would honor A'rika's dying wish. So it was that Hadashah Al-Ishmael was born. Yet with his partner's death, the joy of fatherhood was hollow. His grief was torrential and that old anger that he had forgotten returned with a vengeance. He did his absolute best to be a present a decent father to his child. Her immediate needs were met, yes. She wanted and hungered for nothing, yes. But Hadashah would find little affection in the arms of her father. In time, his dreams would return to that black fortress across the sea.
And his efforts to master the arcane resumed.
For years, Hadashah received nothing short of neglect from her father. It was only when one of his comrades confronted him about this that he did something. Ishmael did not dramatically change his ways. But rather, he sought out the tribe he had departed so long ago. His mother was so very old now...but with her alive, his extended kin would welcome Hadashah. She would know love within their midst and have a chance at a true childhood. And though it pained Ishmael to hear his daughter's cries as he walked away, he firmly believed this was the best course of action. Little did he know that the turmoil that would culminate in the Empire's rise would consume his mother's tribe.
With his daughter's wellbeing accounted for, Ishmael continued down the path that he had for so long. Months turned into years. Years turned into decades. And as the Empire dominated the sands of his mother's people, Ishmael continued to sell his blade and his magic to the highest bidder. He and his band continue to their usual operations, all in the hopes of burning Cerak At'Thul to the ground someday.
Appearance
When compared to the average Human male, Ishmael is of above-average height. As a reflection of his mercenary lifestyle, his body is athletic and characterized by numerous scars. His hair is a testament of his mother's tribe and consists of neat dreadlocks adorned with gold bands. Easily his most striking features were both inherited by his sire. His eyes are a bright amber and tend to glow when he is utilizing magic. Likewise, his face features a messy arc of scars which also illuminate when invoking his abilities. Additionally, though his mother was of elven origins, his ears are round like a Human's.
Skills and Abilities
Ishmael is a Spellsword who has cultivated his craft over two decades. He is proficient in a number of offensive magics, especially those employed by Sand Elves when ambushing caravans. Additionally, he is an excellent swordsman. Outside of combat, he is an expert in surviving in the wilderness - specifically in desert biomes.
Notable Chronicles
Pending
