Sigil: City of Doors

BaName: Izra Antonella 
Aliases: Known Previously as Carla Treynn
 Age: 19 years
 Profession: Researcher and solicitor of the Guvnors.  A10 rank.
 Languages: Baatoran, Celestial, Abyssal, others? 
Accent: None at all really. 
Height: 167 cm 
Weight: 55 kilos
 Body build: Hourglass
Hair: Layered feathery strawberry blonde hair.
Scars: None
 Tattoos: None  
Mental Information Alignment: Lawful Neutral
  Beliefs:.  Law is preferable to chaos.    Freedom is preferable to slavery though the subject of freedom and philosophy thereof is left to much debate.

Personality:  
Jewelry: Generally modest but depends upon her outfits which change daily
Habbits/hobbies: Deliberate in her actions, enjoys a a wide variety of new experiences
General Health:  Fair to Good.
 Favorite Drink: hard apple cider is among them 
Weaknesses:  Hinweed vice.  Passive at times to a fault while she struggles with her independence.  Difficulty relating to and general ignorance of primers though she generally fakes it well enough.   *others*


Not entirely unbeknownst to her prideful mistress, Carly had been trading favors and gaining information about her family history over the years.  When Carly believed her mistresses attention was elsewhere, and very likely was all along.  The useful slave and assumed eventual petitioner was on loan to the Ministry of Mortal Affairs, Carly enacted her plan.  The collar was loosed and in short order the lineage pact was completed.  Her ancestor Jendara, some near 20 generations before, made a pact with a devil of another circle.  Time of the essense to save her beloved, she signed a pact not exactly to her liking though Jendara was no fool.  She planned to forgo children, going as far to make herself infertile thus ending the pact at the end of her life.  Though she should have known not to deal with a devil.  Jendara, much to her surprise, became pregnant.  A voice from the darkness began to taunt Jendara and soon her village was raided, abducted, and enslaved in the 6th circle of Malbolge where she bore a child and was never heard from again.  Thus followed a similar fate to all the first born living descendants.

Much is left to be known.  Izra does not know if her mistress will try to reclaim and break her or possibly simply kill Izra for her audacity.   Perhaps her mistress believes Izra's fate is inevitable as her accendents, whom which were corrupted by ever present soul piercing hatred of the plane and the 'gift' of hellfire .  Nor does Izra know how the powerful devil in Malbolge might respond.  Of which she has no knowledge of.  Rumored to be a powerful servant of Glasya or perhaps even Glasya herself.  While Izra's life is now rightfully her own, it does not feel that way.  Her past weighs heavily upon her in the dead of the night often wondering what freedom really means and if she truely is or is she still an unknowing pawn of a different color serving perhaps 2 mistresses.

*updated some info above*

As Izra has settled into Sigil she has slowly gained footing and made a life for herself though the road to self discovery is ever ending.  Izra still has difficulty with her emotions.  While she nearly always has a slight smile upon her lips and is friendly tone she often feels empty and subdued.   The pervasive anger she'd felt in Baator as a warlock wielding hellfire  which was the driving force and coping mechanism to survive the many horrors she endured in Malbolge has been greatly subdued.  Izra has difficulty feeling the emotion at all only on occasion does it bubble weakly to the surface.  The horrors of Malbolge still haunt her and occasionally grip her consciousness while she fears losing control or simply breaking down.  In moments of moderate stress she tends to rely on her favorite vice, hinweed and it's derivatives.  Still Izra is free and is the 'happiest' she's been in her life. 

In quiet moments there is someone calling to her.  Feeding her self doubt.  Reminding her that she'll share the fate of her mother, and her mothers mother, and mothers, mothers, mother and so on.  The whispers tell her that she'll end up where she belongs.  Not among the humans or mortals as she'll never truly be one of them.  She was born and belongs in Baator and the sooner she realizes that the easier it will be upon her.

Coming of age:

"Come Carleaha I have a gift for you",  Joizanela whispers with a twisted glee.  "Don't be bashful now, you know how I very much  disapprove of it." , The former solar politely scolds with expectations.   Carleaha gulps and reaches up to take the unnaturally beautiful fallen solar's hand.  "You know I love and it pains me ever so much that he betrayed our trust and hurt you so."  Joizanela's words reverberate with an unnerving sincerity.  "I'm so excited you'll just love it!"   As they enter a chamber there are cries out for mercy in the cages below which is little more then background noise and easily ignored.    "I know you feel hideous amongst my other servants, but fear not, you have a certain quality that appeals to mortals.  They keep asking for you by name"  The twisted fallen solar comments with pride.   At the center of the room a large overweight bearded man is chained to the floor, his knees bleeding from the sharp edges of the grate he's kneeling on.  He cries out, "Please no more, I beg".  "Hush", the annoyed Solar hisses confounding and placating the mans mind.  "Carleaha, oh this is so very exciting isn't it!"   Carleaha shrinks from the man at first, terrified, but the underlying tone of the plane reverberates stoking the embers of untapped anger in the teenage girls consciousness.  "He broke the rules Carly and needs to be punished and more importantly he hurt my beloved adopted daughter and that is my gift to you"  Carleaha's anger had already reached a boiling point and the glow of hellfire radiates from her palms.  She raises her hands and sends a stream of hellfire infused eldritch magics at lying man's groin area.  The man screams in horror in pain that reverberates throughout the chamber, Carleaha moves forward standing over the 'pathetic' creature while her mistress is giddy with glee.  Carleaha studes the man for some time and after his screaming subsides into a sobbing moans she takes aim at his neck subconsciously and the screaming subsides.  Carleaha's legs wobble to collapse though her 'loving' mistress is there to catch her.  The fallen solar wraps her wings around the girl to soothe while stroking Carleaha's hair.  "I'm so very proud of you."   Carleaha now realizing the full extent of her actions begins to tremble.  "Shh, this will all soon pass.  You'll feel better tomorrow I promise, I'm so very proud of you".

A peek into the beginnings of Carleah's background to where she might be today.   Where the roots of her post traumatic stress disorder and dissociative tendencies were planted and grew over time, her brain adapting and building coping mechanisms within.  Now that her well managed intense hatred  ((meaning that she only occasionally lost control and killed her twisted and vile mortal 'clients' during their sessions.  Much to the amusement of Joizanela)), is gone she was left with is a semi-pleasant subdued aura.