The Order of Chaos

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, not even the names of any of my characters; they're all based on my closest friends.

I feel I must also make it clear that I did not steal the name of Abdel, it came up on a random name generator when I first played and then it stuck, some luck huh?

First off I should tell you that my name is Abdel, no association to the great Abdel Adrian. My companions and I form an adventuring troupe based in Western Faerun known as the order of Chaos- and I'll tell you how we came up with that name later in my tale. I'm going to start by telling you the story of how we all got together, and I'll try to keep things as simple as possible.

Since this all started with me, it's only appropriate that I start with my story. I'll skim over the boring details of my life and tell you as much of the interesting stuff as possible.

Abdel's Story

First thing to know is I'm a tiefling, but I'm lucky in that it doesn't show very much. I have bright violet eyes, and really hard skin, so that brings its own advantages. I was born in Beregost, but it's hardly fair to say I was raised there. When I hit puberty and the signs of my heritage began to show, my birth father disowned me, and even before that the other children were unnerved by my unnatural abilities. I went south, to Nashkel, but this was before the Iron Crisis hit, and it really was a prosperous little town back then, with its own highly trained militia. Needless to say, unlike my 'father', the good people of Nashkel had no moral qualms about siccing the guards on me, so I fled, down the Sword Coast.

I lived like this for a few years, but as I was only a child, the people initially only wanted me out of their towns. That all changed once I reached adulthood. I lived in the general vicinity of the Gate in my youth, going as far north as Ulgoth's Beard, but never daring to enter the big city itself. I was able to settle in Gullykin for a year when I was fifteen- the halflings there, no strangers to persecution themselves, allowed me to stay a while on the grounds that I make myself useful. Thus I joined their (limited) militia. I daresay it was a boon for them to have a full-sized humanoid in their ranks, and I quickly rose through the ranks. Eventually I was training the rest of them, and I became a damned good swordsman- add that to the fact that my hard skin is virtually impenetrable to mundane weapons, and I became champion of the fighting circles there, earning respect and a good deal of gold. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I belonged somewhere.

Of course, all good things come to an end, and I was displaced once more by the Iron Crisis (Abdel Adrian still owes me one for that, along with my part in Bodhi's downfall and the fact that we share a birth name). When mercenaries came to Gullykin, I was attacked because they thought I was the Bhaalspawn Abdel. Mistaken identity really does suck. That was the day I killed my first man, and noticed to an extent the dormant chaotic powers in my blood. The first assailant cornered me behind a warehouse and cut my left arm open before I could react, but then in his hurry to finish me he thrust himself upon my blade. The shocking thing was that the blood flowed from his open wound into mine, sealing the injury. I was disgusted with myself for my newfound power- it seemed grossly unnatural- evil, even. I found that the rest of the militia had killed or driven off the other assassins, but the Halflings forced me out again, assuming that with me gone, there would be no more attacks (and now also under the impression that I was Bhaalspawn).

Of course, the rest of that story is history- the attacks continued, and I'll bet they were sorry I was gone after that. After that I left Baldur's gate behind, travelling south through Amn, skirting around the major settlements like Athkatla and Trademeet. I would stop for the night in small villages, sneaking in when the townsfolk were asleep. Often I met with a fairly rude awakening, and since I was now an adult, the ravenous mobs were no longer content with letting me escape unharmed- once again I was on the run with nobody to turn to. I was hoping to make it as far as Calimshan, and then book passage to the jungles of Chult, where I could live out my days in peace- but such fantasies are merely dreams and illusions.

When I reached the Tethyr Road, everything changed- I was cornered by hundreds of well-trained soldiers, but instead of killing me, they took me to their leader. Turns out I'd run into a detachment of the Flaming Fist company- a renegade detachment. These pleasant fellows were carving out a name for themselves along the southern border of Amn, controlling trade and recruiting (often forcefully) anybody who looked like they might be handy with a blade.

I was immediately taken before Garilios Dosan, their leader, and tested. As I proved to be a formidable fighter, bested in the circles only by Garilios himself, I was inducted. Now, while others might have resented this, I was glad of the opportunity to be raised properly, in a community. The other men were boisterous and loud, but affable enough, and Garilios was like a father to me- taking me under his wing and training me to perfect my fighting style. Nobody asked any questions about my heritage, caring only about my skill as a warrior and my personality.

Once again I had a life of security and familiarity, yet once again I was unsettled and my life ruined. After three years of working with the Renegade Fists, my family was torn apart. I had only recently turned twenty, (at this point the 'camp' more closely resembled a village) and I was meditating in my quarters when I heard a shout from within, and many more from outside. I opened up my window to see what was happening and was greeted with the harsh smells of smoke and death. The sounds of battle echoed in the distance. Shortly before I withdrew my head from the open window, an arrow struck my cheek and shattered harmlessly against my steely skin.

By this point adrenaline was surging through my body; I fumbled to unlatch my door and rush down into the main hall of my home, and was astounded to see my adoptive 'true' father in battle. He was truly astonishing. Wielding his enchanted 'Fireblade', he cut down his foes in all directions, sweeping out their legs and purging them of their lives with the magical fire. I recognised them as mercenaries from the Black Talons- unscrupulous bastards, all of them. Still, they posed little threat to my father, the flames blinding them and the heat draining them of all resistance. His magical blade would subsequently shear through their armour as though it were paper. After a few minutes, when all lay dead, the stench of evaporating blood filling the air, my father turned to me, the flames on his blade dying as he spoke.

"Abdel, things are escalating out of control here. The Tenhammer has come for us. He is strong, possibly too strong for either of us to defeat… there is a good chance that I may be killed-"

"Father, don't even consider saying that, you will grind this man into the dirt!"

"No, I fear that you are wrong. He is a foe beyond my ken, and he has many powerful associates. I pray you; do not make an enemy of him. Listen to me. If the unthinkable should happen… If I should be slain, you must take my blade and flee to the forest of Tethyr. You will be safe there, a community of elves will take you in- their chieftain is a close friend of mine"

As I considered his words, I looked into my father's face for what would be the last time, he was a handsome man, his bronze skin and chiselled features betraying nothing of the raucous life of debauchery he led with his men. His eyes were of liquid amber, and through them I grasped the desperation of the situation. He was afraid. I had never seen him so moved to fear.

"Very well father, I-

Before I could even acquiesce to his request, the doors, hastily barricaded with chairs, tables and the corpses of the dead, splintered. My father straightened, prepared to meet his end at the hands of who- or what- ever was breaking in. Again the doors crashed, a chink of light spilled in from outside, I could see an eye, bloodshot with the fervor of battle. As I backed away, there was a final crash, and a head burst through the oak doors. I recognised him as Harben, a good man, part of my company. Blood was congealing all over the right side of his face. He was very, very dead. The attempts to breach the door picked up now, with multiple impacts against the doors. Then, suddenly, they stopped.

A gruff voice cut in, "you pathetic fools, move out of the way, Tenhammer will show you how this is done."

There was a chilling scream, then, a great siege hammer crashed through the doors. Again and again, the hammerhead smashed through, until finally the bolts snapped and the doors swung open. Harben's corpse slid down to the floor, to be trampled by the louts who had stolen his life.

Then I beheld Taurgosz 'Tenhammer' Khosann for the first time. He was a mammoth brute of a man, half-orcish judging by his contorted facial appearance. His eyes burned with hatred for all who stood to oppose him, his demeanour was that of a thug, and even his armour was crude and hastily made from interlocking plates. As his men stood aside, he brought his hammer down repeatedly on the barricade materials, shattering them. Then he dropped his massive weapon and drew a viciously recurved, serrated scimitar.

Pushing his way through the wreckage, he shouted a challenge to my father… who was only too eager to accept. As they clashed blades, about five of Taurgosz's men stormed in, clambering over what remained of the doors. They were pursued by a handful of surviving Renegades. Taurgosz casually turned from my father and cut out the throats of two men behind him, then spun to face my father, parrying a sweeping attack aimed to cut out his legs from beneath him. My father, however, was no fool either, and so he spun away, just avoiding being caught between Taurgosz and one of his men. He then continued his attack, spinning once more to place himself behind the black talon merc and sending his blade cleanly through the man's midriff. Taurgosz responded to this by decapitating his former employee, barely missing my father's head as well.

I was also targeted, three of the mercenaries rushing me, while another stayed back and used his bow. I was unafraid of their mundane weaponry; it would have taken the strength of an orc to break my skin. As if to prove my point, an arrow whistled through the air, snapping in two as it struck my bare arm. However, I was unarmed and unarmoured, and was sure that with a concerted effort the three men arrayed against me could pin me down and hack at me until I died.

In a blind rush, I grappled one of the mercenaries, drawing a dagger from his girdle as he tried in vain to fend me off with feeble swiped of his blade. I then headlocked him, dragging him away from the others and driving the small blade into his temple. When he slumped, I took up his sword. It was of poor craftsmanship, but it was still a sword- now these guys were screwed.

I ducked under an axe blow from one mercenary, carrying on and slashing at the stomach of his companion. My blade struck true, and his entrails spilled out onto the floor, shortly followed by his writhing corpse as he struggled to pull his intestines back into his body. Then I turned to face the axeman. He had tried to hit me a little too hard, and his axe was embedded a good few inches into the wall behind me. I smiled briefly before I cut off his hand as he tried to free his weapon, then I took his other hand. I gave him the pleasure of a quick death, though, splitting his skull like a melon and leaving the crude weapon there.

My triumph was short-lived however, as a piercing pain struck my back, followed by numbing cold spreading through my muscles, stiffening them. I turned rapidly to find the source of my pain, only to see the archer I had previously discounted ready another arrow of frost.

"Oh shi-"

The bowstring twanged, releasing the blue arrow. I was lucky enough to avoid this one, and it thudded into the woodwork behind me. I became casually aware of the pain in my back lessening, only to realise that once more blood from the floor was trickling up my back, closing my wound. I grinned- I had forgotten about that little trick. The cold in my back was still present, but the pain from my wound was gone. Invigorated, I rushed towards the bowman, grabbing his shortbow and hurling him behind me. His foot snagged in the entrails of the man I had dropped earlier, eliciting mixed grunts of surprise and pain from both of them. While the dying man screamed with renewed agony, the archer fell and struck his head hard on the blood-slicked floor, losing consciousness.

He was no longer a threat to me, but there was to be no mercy for him today. I stooped casually, drawing an arrow from his quiver and embedding it in his throat, watching his skin pale and his sweat crystallize. See how he liked arrows of frost after that.

Now I could fully turn my attention to the big fight, between Taurgosz and my father. They seemed evenly matched, but anyone who knew combat could see that my father was exerting all his energy to stay in the game. His beetle-black brow gleamed in the sunlight, his breaths were long and deep. It was entrancing to watch their blades spinning and slicing, hacking and cutting, both of them such accomplished fighters that neither had sustained a wound. Their blades locked, then they disengaged, each taking a step back to assess their opponent. Taurgosz's stamina was proving decisive here, and Garilios Dosan knew that he had to invoke the power of his magical blade once more if he were to stay in the fight.

"Tenhammer, you know not what you face. This blade has slain countless foes in my lifetime, I will not be overcome by one such as you."

He gripped his blade tighter, and a surge of energy penetrated the room, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. Then the Fireblade burst into orange flames; it was a truly beautiful sight.

Despite this, Taurgosz Khosann began to laugh; a deep, throaty chuckle

"Fool" he said, his voice gruff and deep, "despite all of your bravado, Dosan, you are still a fool, just like your brother is"

Upon hearing this, I took a double take- my father had never mentioned a brother. I caught his eye and observed a flash of guilt as my mind screamed against the possibility of my father having a double life.

"The words of a man with no other response to his impending defeat. Actions will speak louder than words today, and I shall be the first to act!"

My father rushed forwards, cutting an arc through the air as he charged his opponent, his blade leaving behind a trail of burnt ozone. Taurgosz parried once, twice, then pushed my father away, his blade somehow withstanding the magical fire.

"Like I said, you are a fool, for you assumed you were the only one here with a magical weapon"

As he said this, his blade began to glow icy blue, and as his swung it in circles it left a haze of shimmering air.

"Now, die!"

Their blades met one more time, but then the Fireblade was suddenly extinguished, its flame sucked away, leaving it dull and lifeless. The fabled weapon appeared to grow heavy in my fathers hands, as if some grievous wound had been dealt to his very soul. With a casual flick of his wrist, Taurgosz disarmed my father, sending the blade spinning away to embed itself into the staircase from which I had come down, not ten minutes before. Ten minutes- all it took for my life to unravel before my eyes for the third time.

Taurgosz planted a giant-sized boot on my fathers chest and sent him to the ground. I could no longer force myself to watch.

"Abdel, take the blade and-"

The sound of a blade cutting into flesh split the atmosphere and silenced his screams. As my father, drew his last breath, I did the only thing I could do- I ran.

I took up the blade from the staircase, feeling its power in my hands for the first time. Without warning, a jet of flame issued forth, setting the stairs aflame and blocking my pursuer for the time being.

With this time, I took my shield and chainmail from my room, opened up a balcony window, and fled across the rooftops. I was panicking at this point, and so my armour was not fastened properly, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I obey my father's dying request, despite any doubts I now held about his past- I owed him that much at least.

The streets below me were filled with carnage, looters, corpses from both sides of the battle, and fires. It was my hope to use the fire to my advantage- to help me to escape. The streets below were filled with Taurgosz's men, but most of them paid me no heed- they had, after all, no idea who I was. A few fired up at me, but their mundane arrows had no effect, and they soon gave up the pursuit.

Eventually, I ran out of rooftop, and so I dropped into an alleyway and took time to secure my equipment. I had nothing, and I knew it- no gold, and naught but my clothes, armour and signet ring- that and the Fireblade, my father's sword. With the chaos and looting surrounding me, It was a simple matter to escape into the trees, into the forest of Tethyr- but I swore to Bane, god of hatred, that I would return, and have my vengeance.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I took a little creative license with the tiefling characteristics, I hope nobody takes offence to that, I just though it would add an interesting twist (as a note within notes, Abdel's vampiric style regeneration is going to become less and less useful as the story progresses)

Yes, there are going to be adventures featuring the characters we all know and love from the video games, but I'm planning on saving them for other stories, this is just an introduction to all of my characters (there will be 11 of them, so we're in for a long journey, with some omissions of important adventures to be detailed in later fictions)

Yes, Garilios and Angelo are brothers (I can feel the plot moistening already…)

Yes, this story will coincide with the protagonist stories from BG1 and 2

Oh, and Abdel isn't a Bane worshipper, or even religious for that matter. He simply respects the power of the gods and sends his respective pleas and vows to a suitable god, so as to enforce his own will upon himself

Also, for those wondering, here is Abdel's profile

Abdel 'Fireblade'

Tiefling fighter

CN

Str: 17

Dex: 16

Con: 16

Int: 14

Wis: 12

Cha: 13

Also, Immunity to non-magical weapons wielded by characters of Str: 18

Tiefling powers will emerge as we go on.

I'll detail the profiles of other characters as they are introduced