Years ago a crafty demon name Malegro made it past the wardstones of the Worldwound. He used his demonic powers to shift across the world until he finally decided to settle in Minkai.
Decades flew by and, disguised as a human, Malegro slowly wormed his way into a position of power. Then came the children. The demon was wiley for he was kind and good to his women, especially in public. What was odd is that they all seemed to die in childbirth.
The truth, of course was far more gruesome. Malegro would ritualistically sacrifice his wives in an effort to bring forth a more pure demon child.
The ritual killed all of the children: all but one. This child was somehow less demonic than he should have been; he was a water-blood, or "tiefling" to the mortals of Golarion.
This angered Melagro, but this was the only child to survive. He had to use what he had.
Next for the boy came years of intensive training in the ways of the ninja.
Some years later, Malegro decided to test the child to see what latent powers lay hidden in him. He sent the boy to Mendev: to the very place where he, himself had crawled from the Abyss. Malegro ordered the boy to murder a prominent priest of Sarenrae and make it back alive.
The boy obeyed.
----------
Silent as a thought, the boy crept from his unseen position and laid his blade along the priest's neck.
"Ah, we meet at last." said the priest calmly. "What's it been now, 4 days? That's a long time to hide in someone's cupboard, son."
"Now, clearly, I know what you've come here for, but I'd like to know why. Would you tell me that at least?"
The boy remained silent. Stay focused.
"Are you here to prove yourself? Is this some bizzare test your sires put you up to?"
The boy's hand trembled.
The priest took a deep, empathetic breath. "I see. So killing me gets you a place in their ranks does it? Very well. I know the price you'll pay should you fail. However, allow me to write you a letter of safe passage before I die. I wouldn't want you to have come all this way and fail."
The boy's hand we shaking steadily now: his breath coming in soft, wheezing gasps.
The priest took a good, long time to write the letter. When he finished he turned in his chair, looked the boy in the eyes, and said, "You do not have a name and so you drift on the whims of others. I would name you Raziel for I sense a great mystery about you. There is power in you that know nothing of, and it will be used for good for your soul is pure and uncorrupted by the blood of your fathers. I hope this keeps you safe and brings you comfort as it did for me when I first came here."
The priest of Sarenrae pressed a small cross of the kind the crusaders carried into the boy's hand. Scoured into the side was an inscription that read: Raziel, Angel of Mysteries.
The boy's breathing was ragged now and his hands shook so violently that his sword clattered to the ground at his feet.
The priest smiled, tucked the letter of safe passage in the young man's belt, then hugged him like a father hugs a son. "You will get passed this and you will do great things. Now, finish what you came here to do."
The priest pressed the weapon back into the boy's hands, then threw himself upon the point.
The boy wailed.
----------
The boy woke bound and naked on a wooden chair in a stone room. Across from him crouched a man with large bronze pauldrons: for some reason the boy could only remember the pauldrons.
"This says the priest made you kill him. That you didn't want to do it. Is that true?" The man shakes a piece of paper at him: the letter.
The boy burst out in tears, shaking his head. No, I didn't want to. He thought.
"He says he saved your soul. He says you are filled with the fire of goodness. That true boy?"
The crying stopped. Suddenly the boy felt peace for the first time in his life. He nodded.
"The priest, what was his name?"
"Shafilka of Qadira. What is your name?"
"Raziel, and I would pledge my soul to the Mendevian Crusade."
The man in the bronze pauldrons smiled. "He said you'd say that."
