Almost no memories of his previous life remain intact, certainly nothing concrete. Vague vignettes, ephemeral dreams, sudden flashbacks. A birthmark that sometimes looks like a livid rash, sometimes a sneering, pentagram tattoo, appears on his flesh from time to time -- one afternoon discoloring one of his wrists, another morning perhaps on the back of his shoulder. It makes him most uncomfortable when it's on his breast, or the softness of his interior forearm. But it's when he can't see it, even just on his thigh, when he worries: What if it's on his face, this evening?
In his previous life, he knows he was some kind of Wizard, some kind of ruthless archmage intent on inflicting the most pain and evil he could while pursuing his vile ambition. Yet no specific details enlighten him, merely generic confabulation: A pureblood Suel of The Scarlet Brotherhood? A sorcerous warlord intent on some kind of genocide-like pogrom for the Suel? Something like that. Yet even more disturbing. Something ineffable.
He also doesn't remember his repentance. No memory of his conscience finally awakening, nor his first feelings of moral conviction. But the memory of terror and helplessness -- upon seeing his Soul from an out-of-body consciousness -- Fall to Hell! That is strong. Overwhelming.
He awakened. A new body. Reincarnated. Adult. Naked and disoriented and truly afraid for his Soul. His fading thought: not Lathander, nor Sarenrae, neither Iomedae nor Mayaheine, not Lirr, Lydia, nor Mishakal -- None would allow his Ascension.
Here in this new life he would have to prove his worth. And far more. Only a truly epic effort for Righteousness can *perhaps* save his Soul. Only an against-all-odds victory over a great Evil can protect him from returning to Hell. Maybe.
So at least he has a chance.
