"Fithelos," Rook prodded the monk with his mace. "Wake up. It's your watch."
The Monk opened his eyes and glared at the heavily armored warrior. "I was meditating, you imbecile."
"I know," the cleric replied, folding his arms against his chest as he leaned back against the cave wall. "But you still hate it, right?"
Fithelos shook his head and closed his eyes again.
"Hey. Hard to keep watch with your eyes closed." Though he tried to sound casual, there was an edge in his voice ever since they entered into the Underdark.
"Why would I need to open my eyes when none of you are asleep?"
Everyone rolled over and sat up then, all of them glaring at the Monk.
The female Tiefling sighed. "He's right. I haven't slept since we fought the Wrackspawn. I don't think I'll be able to sleep again until we're out of here."
A halfling in dark leathers scoffed. "You're the sorcerer, Mitolen. Remind us why you can't teleport us our of here again?"
"I need to be able to rest for more than a few hours, Jhorl. We've been attacked almost every hour since we entered through the Yawning Portal. I've been casting cantrips for the past two days!"
"She's not the only one," Rook said, putting his hands behind his head. "And perhaps you could remind us Jhorl, why you can't lead us back to the Yawning Portal? You're our guide, after all."
Jhorl sneered at the cleric. "Undermountain changes after you enter it. The rock in the very mountain itself shifts!" The rogue turned away, flipping his hood up over his head. "And I'm not your guide. I'm your bloody thief."
Mitolen removed a flask from her belt, unstoppered it and took a long drink. When finished, she offered it to Fithelos.
Without opening his eyes, the Monk said "Oghma forbids it."
"I seriously doubt Tyr gives a rats ass about you down here Fithelos."
Fithelos ignored her.
"Rook," Mitolen said before tossing him the flask. "Why doesn't Helm care if you drink?"
Rook took a drink and shrugged. "I think as long as it doesn't impair my ability to protect you little girls..." he smiled. "Or it could be that Helm is a heavy drinker Himself."
The sound of a small rock clattering against the cave floor echoed in the darkness in front of them.
Mitolen's eyes ignited into dark blue flames as she rose to her feet. Jhorl rolled into the shadows and vanished from sight. Rook had his helmit on and was moving to the front of the group with his shield raised. The tattoos covering the arms, neck and head of the Monk wreathed in white flames.
As silent as death and just as swift, the drow raiding party descended upon them.
Poisoned bolts rained down on the group just before the warriors closed the distance between the adventurers. Fithelos batted aside the missiles aimed at him, but more than one found its mark among them. Mitolen winced when she was hit, but continued casting her spell. The rogue was not so fortunate--and slumped to the ground as the sleeping toxins overtook his system. If any got past Rook's shield or armor, he ignored it.
Four dark elf fighters slashed and cut at the cleric, driving him back. Three more rushed around him and were met with multiple beams of fire that slammed into their chests from the sorcerer's fingertips. Fithelos rushed past the other oncoming fighters and straight toward the wizard and priestess bringing up the rear of the drow attacking them. The monk didn't hesitate for a second, moving with blinding speed up to the arcane caster.
The glowing red eyes of the dark elf wizard widened when the Monk made it past the fighters unscathed. He raised a wand, but the Monk was already on him snapping his arm at the elbow. The spellcaster tried to go for his dagger, but the cursed martial artist hit him several times--causing his other arm to go limp. When he opened his mouth to call out for help, blood erupted from his mouth when his throat exploded.
Fithelos looked back for a second to see three drow laying dead at Rook's feet. He watched the cleric cave in the skull of one drow and smash in the face of another with his shield--before a dagger was driven into his back of his neck. Rook's body went rigid before collapsing to the ground. Further in the distance, two dark elf assassins pulled their swords free of the halfling's body and turned toward the Tiefling who just depleted the last of the charges from the wand she kept stored in her boot.
Searing pain nearly blinded Fithelos as the whip consisting of snakes bit and tore the flesh at in his back. He leaped up and smashed the priestess' jaw with his foot, causing her to stumble to the ground. She smiled at him, spitting out teeth and blood as she quickly regained her feet. Fithelos clenched his fists, encasing them in fire. Darting in, he punched her breastplate in ten rapid strikes, putting deep dents in the armor and setting it on fire. He grabbed the side of the drow cleric's face, causing smoke to rise up off her burning flesh. Opening his free hand and then curling it into a claw, he focused on her heart...
And then Mitolen shrieked. The Monk lost his concentration as he turned to see his last companion have her spine ripped from her back by one warrior and her sternum pulled from her chest by another. Kept alive by magic alone, a third drow walked to her fallen body, picked her head up by her horns and tore her skull in half.
Fithelos felt a rush of infernal heat as turned his attention back to the drow burning in his grasp.
She had finished a spell--a summoning spell. She spit blood in his face before driving a dagger into his tricep. He dropped her and she backed away as a portal opened up next to him.
The Monk knew she would control whatever abomination came through the gateway. He had no chance.
Dropping to a knee, he called upon Oghma, pleading for aid, whether it be strength, escape or an ally of any kind.
Behind him, he felt the ground shake as something stepped out from the inter-dimensional door behind him.
Launching himself straight up, Fithelos' leg ignited in blinding white fire as he spun to slam his heel into the demon's skull.
Instead, a flaming blade stopped his attack, the point going straight through his thigh. He screamed as the weapon made of pure fire melted flesh and severed muscle, tendon and bone.
In his head, Fithelos heard the demon. "A worthy attempt, human. But you will burn in the fires of the NIne Hells this day." he paused, studying the doomed Monk. "Unless of course, you do something for me...."
Around him, the drow gathered, ready to kill him if he attempted to run.
FIthelos peered out into the darkness and spotted the drow priestess walking forward. Subtly reaching into his boot, he wrapped his fingers around a kunai, whispered an incantation to activate the weapon's magic and felt the blade warm beneath his touch. Just as she began to draw what looked like a sacrificial knife, Fithelos flicked his wrist, throwing the projectile with what strength he had left. Blood erupted from the priestesses neck and a second later, flames sprung from her eyes, nostrils and mouth. When the cleric died, the demon raised his fiery blade. At the last moment, the infernal beast spun and released a thin, flaming, horizontal arc. Blood spurted from the standing drow, each being severed where the demon's attack hit them.
The massive demon turned back to the Monk. "What are you called, human?"
"Fithelos," he answered between gritted teeth. What wasn't melted together on his leg bled profusely. He could feel himself dying. "And you are?"
The Demon's eyes narrowed. "Fraz-Urb'luu. You are going to die."
Fithelos nodded, to weak and angry to answer.
Fraz-Urb'luu sheathed his sword. "Do you want to live?"
"Oghma will spare me if he wills it."
The Demon smiled. "Your god didn't save you just now mortal, I did," he paused. "Suit yourself. The Wrackspawn will make sure you live a long, unsatisfying life in the deepest depths of the Underdark."
"WAIT." Fithelos said as memories of Torog's disciples flooded into his memories. "Wait. What do you want?"
"Serve me. Serve me and I will spare you. Your leg will be healed so you can flee those who come to enslave you."
It didn't take long for Fithelos to decide. "As you wish."
Fraz-Urb'luu held up a taloned hand, and Fithelos screamed as his leg felt like it was submersed in molten lava. A minute later, the wound was closed--but looked severely deformed. Fithelos tried to stand, but almost blacked out from the pain. "My leg! I can barely stand!"
The demon looked confused as a dark portal opened behind him. "That isn't my problem. You have been gifted my powers, it is up to you how you will use them to survive."
"Wait," Fithelos growled at the demon. "WAIT DAMN YOU! I know not how to use these powers! I feel no different!"
"Again human," the demon stepped through the door and disappeared. His voice whispered in his head. "It is not my concern. If you cannot survive, you are unworthy to serve me."
Fithelos roared in anger. When the echoes of his scream died away, his eyes darted around with fear as he heard the whispers and clinking chains of the Wrackspawn approaching his location.
The Monk clenched his jaw as he rose to his feet, nearly toppling to the ground when putting weight on his bad leg. Clearing his thoughts, he reached inside to ignite the tattoos covering his body--but nothing happened. Instead, he felt nothing. No demonic powers, no comfort from a deity....nothing.
"Damn that demon," he hissed.
And then in his thoughts, And damn the gods.

Fithelos would survive the Wrackspawn, using his pure hatred to kill the four enemies who would try to enslave him. He wondered for several months in the Underdark, keeping to the shadows near the brink of death. A svirfneblin caravan took pity on him and allowed him to ride on their carts back to Blingdenstone. He remained there for almost a year--and eventually learned how to call upon his Warlock powers. His leg was never the same. The deepgnomes came to regard him as a type of 'homeless' man in their city and eventually accepted his presence. He spent most of his time with the librarians and scholars of Blingdenstone, earning his living as a page to the wizards and clerics.
One day, a group of adventurers came to the city after hunting down a drow raiding party that attacked the surface. Fithelos returned to the world above with them and parted ways, as he'd become reclusive and withdrawn after his experiences.

He now lives in Amn, and occasionally hunts down bounties to make ends meet.