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Old 12-12-2018, 09:04 AM
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Superstrength79 Superstrength79 is online now
I'm Super! thx for asking
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Lolth's Children

Please post your character here. You can use the secret tool for parts of your background that you may not want other players to start off knowing.

List of current characters:
Character Name Class (Path) Player Name
Selanet Yauthlo Wizard (Arcane Tradition: Divination) DemonSlayer
Rael Sunwalker Rogue (Inquisitive) ZazoAndrov
Abeldr'yx Melath Paladin (Oath of Conquest) Stonk
Dro Kilth Paladin (Oath of Conquest) Torack
Taibhse Rogue (Thief) /Ranger Miscai

Current XP Totals:

Total / Next level

Stonk 9375/14000

ZazoAndrov 4025/6500

Demonslayer 3275/6500

Torack 2400/2700

Miscai +500

MIA playersBallingray 1150/2700
Watcher 1450/2700

Last edited by Superstrength79; 04-15-2019 at 11:38 AM.
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Old 12-12-2018, 11:04 AM
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Watcher Watcher is offline
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Name: Jaknafein Gender: Male
Age: 41
Class: Bard [Lore]
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Deity: Lolth

Appearance: Jaknafein is a young but typical specimen of his race. He is short, around five feet three inches, compact with lean muscle, and has a lithe physicality. Jaknafein has angular features, pointed ears with various earrings, narrow red eyes, several scars across his face and head, and a mouth easy with a smirk. His hair is white, with the top pulled back into a long ponytail, and the sides of his head shaved. His skin is a dark gray, which is smooth due to his youth, but still has small scars here and there.

On Jaknafein's compact form are a combination of leather armor and simple clothes, dark and of good make, with embroidered patterns in places. A sleeveless leather vest, a pair of pants, wrapped forearm guards, and layered leather gloves. Around his waist, Jaknafein has a simple belt that has several weapon sheaths and pouches. On his legs Jaknafein has soft-soled leather shoes that help to dampen his footsteps. On top of it all, the Drow has a hooded cloak that is as equally dark but well-made as the rest of his clothing.

Finally, on one hip, Jaknafein has several skulls on thread; they include a human, halfling and raven.

Personality: Jaknafein is pragmatic and opportunistic. Not unlike many other Drow, he is willing to work with others for a common goal, so long as it aligns with his own pursuits. That said, over the years as an exile, Jaknafein has learned that favors are also powerful currency, so isn't beyond helping another for a debt to be repaid later. Rather quickly, mainly out of a need for self-preservation, he has learned that the best way for a male to survive the matriarchal drow society is to be of value to the right people.

Contrary to most Drow, Jaknafein is often quick with a smile and quip. His personality is far more expressive and extroverted, despite the fact he keeps most of his past and secrets to himself. From many years of dealing and sales, Jaknafein has developed a keen capacity for talking his way around others, whether for their benefit or not.

Trust and loyalty are near non-existent to Jaknafein, reserved for only the most trusted of companions. For the most part, his only dedication is to gold, but he does have a moral stance about finishing any deal, regardless of counter-offers. After all, a deal is a deal, and it would be poor business to cut out on current clients in favor of backstabbing or betraying their original agreement. That isn't to say Jaknafein wouldn't, if given the right incentive, but so far he hasn't been offered it.

Background: OutlanderExile (Feature: Wanderer)
History: Jaknafein is a 'aka blackmailer, burglar, enforcer, fence, hired killer, slave trader and smugglermerchant', who has a small reputation in Cloibbra for providing numerous services and goods, said to have been a slave exiled from another city in the Underdark. Not prone to talking about his past, Jaknafein remains something of a mystery, however through years of dealing with Drow of various castes and houses, has earned his place as a for a Drowtrustworthy salesman.

While not much is known about his past, Jaknafein's business sense and ability to barter are shared within certain circles. Rumor says he is able to provide considerable discounts on goods attained from the surface, especially living goods, and is available for morally ambiguous tasks for those who want to keep their hands clean.

Jaknafein is willing to take on any job, so long as the gold is available to pay for it.

Contrary to popular opinion, the plural of anecdote is not facts.

Last edited by Watcher; 12-19-2018 at 07:13 AM.
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Old 12-13-2018, 06:01 PM
ColorsOfTheHeart ColorsOfTheHeart is offline
Very Old Dragon
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Name: Chashin Vrenna
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Character Level: 3
Class/Path: Monk (Way of the Shadow)
Background: Haunted One
Ideal: I like to know my enemy’s capabilities and weaknesses before rushing into battle.
Bond: I keep my thoughts and discoveries in a journal. My journal is my legacy.
Flaw: I assume the worst in people.

Personality: Paranoia and mistrust are Chashin's best friends and have allowed him to survive as long as he has in the position he's in. He's natually curious and likes to learn all that he can about how everything works, making him good at finding weakness in both things and people. Due to his upbringing, Chashin dislikes and has a harder time trusting women. He also finds himself sexually attracted to other men for the same reasons. He's a little shy and a bit awkward when it comes to talking to people, especially guys that he finds attractive. People tend to write him off as submissive and not a threat, but he has a strong will to live and a lack of remorse. He would poison your grandmother if she was a threat to him.

Chashin secretly hates Lolth and is against her worship. He hates how her priestesses can get away with anything just because of their position. He wants to serve justice to those who think they are above it and create a more equal world to live in, where children don't have to poison their parents to get further in life, and where people don't have to look over their shoulder constantly.

History: Chashin is the youngest of two children. His older sister was chosen at an early age to become a priestess of Lolth and since then has been all but forgotten by his family. It was his sister, Kiaka who raised him for the most part. After their parents were tragically and mysteriously poisoned at dinner one night. Though he can't prove it, Chashin knows it was Kiaka who killed them. Kiaka has used and abused Chashin for many rituals to Lolth, the most common being needing his blood. His body is covered in scars from these events. The worst of them was when he was only eight. She needed his right eye for a ritual, so she took it from him, tearing it from the socket with her bare hands. Ever since then, Chashin has been plagued with random, disturbing, visions of what he can only assume is what his right eye is seeing. One he saw the face of who he swears must have been Lolth herself. Chashin thought that his entire life would be his sister using him for rituals, until she needed him dead. But something changed his life for the better.

One day Chashin was taking a shortcut home when he saw something he shouldn't have. Most would call it wrong place, wrong time, but for him everything was right. He accidentally saw a monk slaughtering a high ranking Drow. Not wanting to leave any witnesses, the monk attacked him too, but was apparently impressed by the way that Chashin fought back. Instead was rendered unconscious and brought to the monastery. There he was told about what they did and what they stood for and given a choice. Either he could join them, or die. For him, there was only one choice. Not only because he wanted to live, but also because he believed in their cause.

At first, his sister was angry that he was leaving to enter into some sort of training, but after convincing her that he would be more useful this way, she allowed it. Chashin packed a bag, and began a new chapter of his life, away from the constant torture. In the monks, Chashin found hope, a chance at a different life, and the skills to make his wildest dreams a reality. If only he lives long enough to see them through.

Last edited by ColorsOfTheHeart; 12-19-2018 at 04:19 PM.
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Old 12-14-2018, 12:15 PM
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DemonSlayer DemonSlayer is offline
Great Wyrm
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Selanet Yauthlo
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Name: Selanet Yauthlo
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Character Level: 3
Class/Path: Wizard (School of Divination)
Background: Courtier
- Personality trait: I'm a snob who looks down on people who can't appreciate fine art.
- Ideal: Greed. I'm only in it for the money.
- Bond: Matron. The existing order provides stability and protection for me; I must uphold it.
- Flaw: I'm never satisfied with what I have- I always want more.

Personality: Coming from a common background, Selanet is no stranger to poverty. His service to one of Cloibbra's house mages allowed him to escape that poverty, and he is above all determined to maintain his improved standard of living. Indeed, to the city he holds up the mask of one more concerned with wealth than status. A mask which, in truth, is only partially a lie. He appreciates art, expensive wine and fine clothes, and looks down upon those of lesser station while supplicating himself before his betters. He greatly fears the day that his betters will take notice of him, realizing that they will either have him eliminated for some perceived slight, or sacrificed as a pawn in some grand game.

In truth, Selanet has a deep appreciation for the status quo, realizing that if the House he served would ever fall, he would have little to protect himself in the ensuing chaos. Stability keeps him safe, and so he works to serve whoever has the city's best interests at heart. He is not interested in rising to a higher station- that would both draw attention to him and upset the balance of things, after all. On the other hand, he is fiercely protective of the status he currently enjoys, and uses his position of house mage to procure whatever luxury claims his fancy.

While Selanet is as cold and uncaring as any Drow, he understands that cruelty for cruelty's sake is less than productive. Indeed, he is willing to forge lasting bonds with whoever proves useful to him, and he will go to great lengths to protect that bond...

History: Selanet grew up at the court of House Ilalaeir, a minor noble House of Cloibbra. As a male of common blood, he would have gone unnoticed, yet fortune found him in the right place at the right time. A house mage, Miratar Deviir, was in need of an assistant after the previous one had failed to survive his latest experiment, and Selanet was the first candidate he stumbled upon. While thankful for the position, Selanet realized that if his service to the mage was allowed to continue long enough, he would end up like his predecessor. The young Drow resolved not to let it come to that.

Instead, he learned everything he could from his new master's experiments, proving an eager student. His enthusiasm and ability to learn surprised Miratar, and for a while the mage remained sufficiently amused by his new pet. That amusement eventually faded, only to be replaced with boredom. The mage tired of his apprentice, and resolved to end Selanet's life as part of a particularly gruesome experiment. Selanet, however, beat the mage to the punch. As Miratar studied from his tomes in preparation of the experiment, he suddenly grew weak, then fell to the ground, his heart pounding rapidly before stopping altogether. In his eagerness to complete the ritual, he had been careless with his books, allowing his apprentice to fetch and handle the volumes. And Selanet had been waiting for just such an occasion to coat the pages with a contact poison- a venom which entered Miratar's bloodstream as his fingertips turned each poisonous page.

Freed of his master, Selanet withdrew into the slain mage's abode, expanding his skills through study based on what he had learned from observing Miratar. By the time the reclusive Miratar's death was noticed among his peers, Selanet had gained sufficient knowledge and skill to replace his former master. While never gaining the respect his noble blooded master enjoyed, Selanet was nonetheless able to perform his duties, and his loyalty to the matron eventually allowed him to move in the circles of the lowest nobility.

But Selanet was careful. He knew not to overplay his hand- he was of common blood, and a male no less. He knew the slightest mistake could spell his doom, and so he played the part of one happy with his station. Where other Drow worked against each other, Selanet cultivated the image of a decadent mage, content with enjoying the perks of his station rather than attempting to move up. Because of this, his betters and rivals hardly considered him a threat- or at least, less of one than those who openly worked against them.

Underneath his mask of careless debauchery, however, Selanet became adept at manipulating his rivals to fight one other, without ever implicating himself. His talent in understanding magical divinations certainly helped him in this regard, foreseeing his opponent's schemes and uncovering his rivals' weakness before they could move against him. These tactics have helped him survive the perils of Cloibbra's courts, cementing him as a loyal if unambitious servant to the city.

RP Example: Selanet kept his face even, trying his best not to draw attention to himself. His patrol leader, Ulitree Quavaeir, was in an especially nervous mood- unsurprising, considering the ambition of her hidden agenda. To the matron and officers of House Ilalaeir, the purpose of their group was to perform a routine patrol outside the walls of Cloibbra. To Ulitree, however, it was a chance to grow in power- no, to topple the matron and claim the House's throne. She had arranged to meet with a group of Duergar here, a precarious, hard-won relationship built up over the course of three years, which she intended to reap the benefits from tonight. She had selected Selanet as one of seven Drow to accompany her, despite his loyalty to House Ilalaeir- most likely to implicate him should things go sour. The other six, warriors all, were ready to fight and die at her command.

'Drow,' Selanet heard a grim voice ahead, although he knew he was not the one being addressed. Groth Blackhammer, Duergar commander, had been waiting for them at the agreed upon rendez-vous.

For years now, the city of Cloibbra had been at war with Rivergard, a surface city of humans and dwarves. Despite her best efforts, matron Ilalaeir had not been able to eradicate the pests, struggling to keep them at bay. Her armory consisted largely of drow-crafted arms and armor- which crumbled when touched by the sun's hateful rays. The stalemate had been a point of contention among the nobles for some time, and the continued existence of Rivergard was considered a symptom of the matron's weakness. Ulitree planned to take advantage of that weakness.

Selanet looked on as Ulitree approach the Duergar, and noticed she didn't even spare him a nod. 'Groth. I take it you have what I need?' The Duergar guffawed, looking over his shoulder at the three carts guarded by a dozen heavily armed soldiers. 'Straight to the point. I like that,' he spat. 'Means we can be done with our business quicker.' He straightened himself, holding out a hand. 'Our payment?'

The problem was, while the Duergar possessed steel weapons, they also hated matron Ilalaeir. Ulitree planned to buy the weapons off the Duergar, paying in information- information about the weaknesses of her matron's defenses. And while the Duergar attacked the matron, Ulitree would use their steel weapons to eradicate Rivergard. No doubt the matron would be weakened by the assault, and Ulitree would be hailed as a hero for finally eliminating the surface dwellers. The matron's position would become untenable, and Ulitree would use her rising popularity to take her place. It was a good plan, Selanet considered, and he feared the thought of it succeeding.

Ulitree nodded, and her lieutenant, Kiathrae Aleani, stepped forward, holding up a satchel. Selanet felt his stomach turn at the sight- unlike Ulitree and her followers, he did not want House Ilalaeir to fall. But as a male, there was little he could do- even at this meeting, he could do nothing. Ulitree would have his tongue before letting him speak a single word.

'Documents,' Kiathree explained. 'In it, you will find everything you need to plan an effective assault on the Ilalaeir spire.' She smiled thinly. 'And in return, the weapons,' she said, gesturing at the carts behind the Duergar commander. Then she seemed to falter for a moment. 'With them,' she spoke, louder and more deliberately now, 'we will eradicate Rivergard.'

Selanet could not help but smile at the shocked silence which followed Kiathrae's confession. Everyone knew the Duergar and Rivergard enjoyed an alliance- one upon which the Duergar depended for survival. Indeed, the main reason the Duergar hated House Ilalaeir was that its matron had declared her intentions of wiping out the human settlement. Of course, Ulitree had failed to mention she intended to do exactly the same- and the Duergar, in their desperation for allies against House Ilalaeir, didn't ask questions. Of all the Drow and Duergar, Kiathree looked most shocked of all- she could not believe those words had spilled from her mouth. Wide-eyed, she looked at the Duergar, then at Ulitree...

... who proceeded to slash a long, sharp dagger across her lieutenant's throat. Seconds of agonized thrashing later, her lifeless body slumped to the ground. Ulitree and Groth looked at each other with hate in their eyes, and without a single command being spoken, the Drow and Duergar attacked each other. Selanet, however, made a point of moving away from the conflict- his scheme had paid off, and now his only priority was getting out alive. He was almost giddy at the thought of Ulitree's confusion. He imagined her wondering why her trusted lieutenant had revealed their plans, right as they were about to close the deal. Of course, the would-be usurper might have been less confused, had she noticed Kiathrae had taken Selanet as consort. She would have been even less surprised if she'd known how drowsy her lieutenant could get after sating her lusts. Drowsy enough, say, for her not to notice Selanet placing her under the influence of his spell, which suggested she boast to the Duergar about their intent.

His scheme now complete, all it took was a simple firebolt amidst the chaos, to make sure the satchel containing the Duergar's payment would turn to ash. Matron Ilalaeir would hear about Ulitree's betrayal and remove her. She would discover the steel weapons the Duergar had brought with them- with the help of Selanet's directions, of course. And then she would slay every human and dwarf in Rivergard with those weapons, cementing her position. And the Duergar would be forced into submission by the loss of their only ally.

What Ulitree had wanted was chaos- and Selanet knew someone in his position wouldn't survive long without the structure provided by House Ilalaeir. He was a known loyalist, and he was not so important that Ulitree would risk letting him live. He felt a pang of regret looking at Kiathrae's corpse- sacrificing his position as a consort was certainly a setback. But it had been necessary, and if there was one thing the Underdark would never be in short supply of, it was people foolishly believing they could use Selanet as their pawn...

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Last edited by Superstrength79; 02-01-2019 at 01:15 AM. Reason: Added familiar pic
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Old 12-17-2018, 09:03 AM
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ZazoAndrov ZazoAndrov is offline
Ancient Dragon
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Character Sheet: Rael Sunwalker

Last edited by ZazoAndrov; 12-18-2018 at 08:20 AM.
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Old 12-19-2018, 02:11 AM
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Ballingray Ballingray is offline
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Basic InfoName: Rizzal Ny’Qoran.
Alignment: Lawful Evil.
Character Level: 3.
Class/Path: Fighter / Eldritch Knight.
Background: Outlander
Ideal: I will do whatever it takes, no matter the cost, to survive.
Bond: The Melviir’s are my bond. One way or the other, my fate is entwined with theirs.
Flaw: My obsession with Nhilafae consumes me. It will likely lead to my destruction.

PersonalityRizzal is many things to many people. His is the face that needs to fit where it needs to fit most. He is perfectly adept at passing himself off as whatever he needs to be to not just survive another day, but to thrive within the murderous and backstabbing confines of the drow society. Rizzal understands what survival means and how to achieve it within the confines of where he is and there is little he won’t do to do this.

Although Rizzal’s personality and tendencies drift towards the “evil” scale of the alignment axis, in truth this evil is borne from his own self-serving tendencies and machinations. Basically, he is of paramount importance and although he makes bonds and friendships, if those personal bonds interfere with his own advancement and existence, then he will do what is necessary to advance himself. There are none who are beyond this — although on the whole he will only backstab someone if placed in a position where it is his survival or theirs.

Perhaps atypical of a common warrior, Rizzal has within him a cold and calculating intelligence. Although fearsome indeed with the blade, it is his intellect and analytical mind that holds him apart from the typical sellsword mercenary. Rizzal is capable of dissecting a situation and assessing the most profitable and productive course of action.....for himself and those he holds dear of course. It is what, ultimately, brought him to the attention of Nhilafae Melviir.

Nhilafae Melviir.

To her Rizzal owes his allegiance, and his continued survival is tied directly in to the drow matron’s. She is his sponsor and offers him the hand of her protection in return for his services. Yet Rizzal holds within him an irrational hatred of the matron, and this is something that he cannot quite understand the origins of, save that it does exist.

It was something that Nhilafaes daughter, Aunryna, also recognised......

However, despite this irrational hatred of the Matron Mother, Rizzal, despite having more than one opportunity to do so, hasn’t yet brought himself to kill her. His hesitation at killing her, the source of his obsession, is something that he struggles to understand as much as he struggles to understand his hatred of her to begin with.

HistoryRizzal does not remember a life before his involvement with the Melviir house. His fate has always been tied in with that family. If there was a time before, he does not remember it. His earliest memory was of waking with the Drow Matron Nhilafae standing over him.

You would be dead without my magic and the benevolence of Lolth. You will serve me as my enforcer, my ears and my eyes within the city. You will be an extension of my will. Your continued existence is because of me, and you will repay that back through indenture. Do not think of betrayal Rizzal Ny’Qoran. Your survival is bound in to mine. Without my sponsorship, you would be dead.

Rizzal had nothing. Of his life before there was no memory. In this, he knew the truth of the matron’s words, a houseless drow was as good as dead. And so he gave her his word that he would serve her faithfully, and all the while inside him there was the smallest kernel of hatred towards his benefactor, one that grew over time until it became a dangerous obsession. Why this was, Rizzal could not answer, save that the hatred was there, and it could not be denied. Nor could he explain why Nhilafae was interested in his services when she surely had an entire house at her disposal.

The truth of it was that Nhilafae saw something in the young warrior that her other soldiers did not have. An intellect as sharp as any blade, she knew he would serve her, and serve her better than the others. And of course, she knew of his obsession and his desire to see her dead, and even this she manipulated to her own ends.

For his part, Rizzal has more than lived up to Nhilafae’s expectations. Within the city, he has used his abilities to unerringly root out those who would harm the Melviir’s, much to Nhilafae’s continued approval.

Last edited by Superstrength79; 01-17-2019 at 12:50 PM.
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Old 12-20-2018, 11:30 AM
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Stonk Stonk is offline
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Name: Abeldr'yx Melath
Gender: Male
Age: 135
Class: Paladin: Oath of Conquest
Alignment: Lawful Evil
personality Trait:No one could doubt by looking at my regal bearing that I am a cut above the unwashed masses.
My favor, once lost, is lost forever.
Ideal: Power. If I can attain more power, no one will tell me what to do. (Evil)
Bond: My loyalty to my sovereign is unwavering.
Flaws: In fact, the world does revolve around me.

Appearance: Abeldr'yx is extremely handsome, and his grooming is impeccable, he always looks his best, and has a team of slaves that make sure his appearance fits his position. As handsome as he is, he is equally terrifying, standing nearly six feet tall, he towers over most Drow. While most drow are lithe, svelt and swift, Adeldr'yx is muscular, strong and aggressive. He is surrounded by an aura of fear, his appearance is truly frightening.

Personality:Abeldr'yx has many faces, he is well bred, charming, cruel and is capable of dominating any social circle. He has been taught how special he is, and being a male, who has been granted magic directly from Lloth has only further developed his arrogance and superiority complex. He knows his place in drow society as a male but believes that he is unique and superior to all males and secretly he also thinks he is even favored over some females, but would never say such a thing out loud.

He has been raised at his mother's side, and is deeply loyal to her and his family. He is only lawful in that he will follow the laws of Lloth and his mother. He is constantly on display as his family takes pride in his privileged position with Lloth and he does not experience the same treatment most males have in Cloibbra. He is a weapon, one to be pointed and fired, he leave the scheming and planning to his mother.

History: Abeldr'yx is the son of T'rissvrae Melath, she is the Matron of House Zaphresz and his early life started as any male drow would suspect, under subjugation and torment. His mother had a prolific record of birth, he was her 53rd child and his father was an unknown warrior who was sacrificed during the mating process. As such quickly learned his place in his family, and drow society. Unlike his other siblings he had an order about him, an respectful obedience that his mother picked up on right away. She knew that he could be trusted, much more so than the others with their infighting and scheming. He watched his brothers and sisters fail their Matron and be put to death, in fact he was only one of three surviving children, the best of the best.

Abeldr'yx was focused on becoming a warrior, and his breeding became apparent. His size gave him a strength advantage over most other male drow, and he was the youngest male ever admitted to the school of martial training. He became a master of the flail and shield, his defense was unmatched, as was his desire to put those smaller than him under his boot. After a few years training his destiny was revealed to all. He was sparing with a master, who was from a rival house and wanted to embarrass the young drow. In the sparing match he used an enchanted dagger to gain an advantage and managed to pierce the lungs of the young Zaphresz student. He clutched his side, this was a mortal blow. The master looked at the other and gloated, "I guess he was nothing after all." But as Abdelr'yx fell to his knees he clutched at his rib cage, and something remarkable happened. he heard something in is head, a divine presence helping him to his feet, it was Lloth herself. His hand began to glow a dark black, blood red, and silver, enchanted spiders appeared around his wound and begin to knit him together, saving the young drow's life. He stood on his feet and saw the master still gloating and before the students shocked reaction could alert him to Abdelr'yx's resurrection he swung his flail viciously at the back of the masters head and crushed his skull. He walked over to the master and put one boot on his back and raised his weapon again and brought it down on the master skull again, killing him. Killing a master was strickly forbidden, but this was no ordinary moment. Abeldr'yx was covered in a silvery web like glow, he had the favor of Lloth and many witnessed it.

After than moment his training changed, his mother, never more proud of a child saw to his training at the temple of Lloth personally, it was here that he developed his abilities as a divine warrior of Lloth.

Once he became a true paladin his mother kept him very busy expending the family influence and territory of Cloibbra. He was promoted to house Weapon Master after he bested the incumbent, his brother Hondral'yx, a move that his mother was very proud of. While he is the house weapon master he is more of a house blunt force weapon, his presence inspires fear in his enemies and rallies his troops as they feel they have the blessings of Lloth with them. He also has a privileged position among the drow, though he is not an equal to drow females, most females are afraid to assert their typical attitude towards him as he is also blessed by Lloth, except his mother, who he is subservient too.

He is basically able to do what he wants, when he wants and his mother allows him too, she wants to show him off, she wants him to be around the other houses, he is unique and his charm allows him to do equal damage in courts as he can do on the battlefield and he does so with vigor and enthusiasm.

Last edited by Stonk; 02-11-2019 at 01:22 PM.
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Old 12-21-2018, 02:13 PM
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Torack Torack is offline
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Dro Kilth
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Name: Dro Kilth
Alignment: CE
Class/Path: Paladin (Conquest)
Background: Soldier
Ideal: Only the strong survive, and the weak should be put out of their misery.
Bond: Those who stand with me are those worth dying for.
Flaw: I spend too much of my time thinking of my past and drinking.

Personality: One would never expect the savage warrior that is Dro Kilth to be soft spoken and sometimes even courteous. He is a man that is very well disciplined, speaking only when it's important, and unlike many other drow, he doesn't take to the overt and unnecessary cruelty that is common within the drow society, mostly because he sees it as overcompensating, as if the drow are trying desperately to snuff out every bit of light within them. He sees those type of drow as weak and not true servants of Lloth, and if he had his way he would fill the streets with their blood.

Some would say that he is stoic. And they wouldn't be wrong. Much has happened in Dro Kilth's life, many of which affected him in some way or other, and one of those ways is his stoic nature. He sees himself as a silent guardian of Lloth's worship, willing to do anything in her name and in the name and Selvetarm's. But, just as he is stoic, he's also a fierce fighter, giving no mercy to his opponents, be that a duel or a spar. If someone loses to him, they die. A sort of punishment for their weakness, since he believes all drow should be nothing but strong.

Then there is his cruelty. He doesn't believe in overt cruelty, but as a worshipper of Lolth and Selvetarm, and having been raised in drow society, cruelty is as a part of him as his skin. But unlike the other drow that backstab each other and seek to gain power through subterfuge, he will outright kill anyone that slights him in broad daylight so to speak, and because he believes himself the mortal sword of Selvetarm, he believes himself not only justified, but obligated in order to appease Lolth.

And because he serves the Champion of Lolth, he holds the Priestesses in high regard. He will willingly humble himself before them in a show of devotion. He may not agree with them, or may even despise a few of the Priestesses, but he will never seek to disrespect one or tarnish the reputation of a Priestess, even going as far as drawing his sword in their defence.

History: Dro Kilth was born as the second child to a rather destitute drow family. His father was a simple guard to a noble family while his mother was a musician. Their home, a small cramped space was enough for the young Dro, as he was often outside playing with his older brother, bashing sticks with him. Eventually, he grew older and soon joined the raiding parties that pillaged nearby Underdark settlements, revelling in the slaughter of other humanoid creatures, especially the gnomes and the duergar. As time progressed, he went out into more and more raids, eventually joining a raiding party that often ventured to the surface world.

It was there that he cut down his first elf. The feeling was almost bliss, and he grew addicted to it. But above all, it was his fascination with the above world, and how different it was to what he had called home for centuries. He would often join as many raiding parties to the surface as he could, eventually becoming a leading in such ventures. Where once he was taught how to tactically maneuvre in such a strange and alien world, he was teaching younger drow to do the same.

But, his curiosity of the surface world got the better of him. He led his raiding party too far and they were cornered by two squads of mounted knights. He and his team fought for their lives, but he quickly realized they were going to lose if he didn't pull his team back into the Underdark; and as he was making the retreat, several infantry from the flank crashed into them. They were finished, and he knew it. In desperation he called out to Selvetarm, swearing his life to the Champion of Lolth if he delivered them from the slaughter. Selvetarm answered, and the drow were barely able to escape. The humans chased them deep into the Underdark where he had the advantage and managed to slaughter them in Selvetarm's name.

But the god was not yet appeased. He got a dream that in order to repay the aide that was given, he had to slaughter his family in the god's name. Dro was shaken by the thought, to kill his dear brother was something he didn't know he could do, but he knew the consequences that would come if he refused. And so begrudgingly, he walked into his family's home and slaughtered them all, marking their blood onto his face. It was then that he felt the holy power of Selvetarm enter him, and knew that he was the mortal sword of Lolth's Champion.

Last edited by Torack; 04-02-2019 at 07:21 AM.
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Old 02-23-2019, 03:50 PM
Miscai Miscai is offline
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The Slave

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Name: Taibhse (pronounced TIVE-shah or TAYV-shah)
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: Mid 20s
Alignment: CG
Class: Rogue/Ranger
Background: Folk Hero

Personality: Taibhse leans towards the snarky side but is fiercely loyal to those she considers friends. She enjoys trying to get a rise out of friends and inciting arguments with them, often loudly, with subjects ranging from serious to silly. She means it to be teasing, not mean. It is likely, though, that this is sometimes hard to tell. Her instincts push her to defiance which is where some of her argumentative nature comes from. The proud granddaughter of an assassin who fought to free the enslaved, Taibhse strives to live up to her grandmother's legacy. While she has always had an intense dislike for slavers and any who would oppress others, more recent events in her life have given her a better understanding of her grandmother and sharpened her feelings to true hatred.

History: Originally sent by her guild to assist a city at war, Taibhse has undertaken a number of endeavors to procur supplies for the city and ensure supply lines remain open. Unfortunately she and her small group have often found themselves swept up in events not related to the war. One of these is the reason she now wears a Thayan slave brand....another is the reason she is in the Underdark.


“Don’t die – I’m not done yelling at you yet...”

A rapier....no, her rapier....being thrust into an Eladrin....no, into Kiran....her rapier going through Kiran....the soft squeak of leather armor being roughly removed....thin, sticky thread wound tightly around her....not thread, web....the feeling of being smothered....CAN’T MOVE....cool air on exposed skin....the rattle of chains....rough, hard stone....cold metal against warm skin....the clink of a lock....no, no, NO....not again....not again....NOT AGAIN....

The human female woke to darkness and pain. The nightmare had not ended with consciousness. Manacles had been locked just above her elbows then pulled behind her and secured to the ceiling, low enough for knees to touch stone but high enough to keep her from sitting. She tried to pull her legs forward so she could get into a more upright position only to find her feet shackled too far behind her to allow it. The result was a slumped forward kneel with just enough weight supported on her knees to feel the dig of stone, leaving the rest to hang painfully from her arms.

As Taibhse’s eyes adjusted, she realized the darkness wasn’t quite as complete as she’d thought. A miniscule amount of light bled in under the door in front of her – just enough to get a sense of the cell she was in and to catch little, random movement in her periphery. It was a small, rounded chamber shaped like an egg standing on end. The space had been carved directly into the stone and left rough-hewn. She knelt on a dais in the center of the cell that was raised perhaps 4 inches off the ground with a base that appeared to curve under the upper edge. The ceiling seemed high enough to be a few inches out of her reach when standing on tip toes. In spite of that, the curve of the walls and jagged cuts in the stone made it feel like the roof was falling in on her. A door with a rounded top that was short enough to force most Drow to duck in order to come through it reinforced that feeling.

For a moment panic took over and she struggled frantically against her bonds. Sharp pain in her elbows, shoulders and knees snapped her out of it. She let her head hang forward, her hair falling around her face as she tried to slow her breathing. It was futile to struggle and Taibhse knew it – she was well and truly caged.

How long had she been in here? Where exactly was here? Her head throbbed; her mind was confused. She mostly remembered sensations as she had drifted in and out of consciousness. Had the Drow dosed her with something? Or perhaps she had taken a blow to the head? She couldn’t remember. Where were the others?

“Don’t die – I’m not done yelling at you yet...” She remembered saying that to Kiran before they climbed the stairs, something she often said to him. Zamanos and the bugbear had gone up the stairs to the right, she and Kiran the ones to the left. They’d expected to meet at the top since the steps appeared to curve together but instead of a landing there was a wall and a hallway, at least on their side. She remembered the start of the fight. She remembered killing Drow....and she remembered seeing the yochlol at the top of the stairs...

A soft click caused her to jerk her head up – that was a mistake. As she lifted her face, light from the open door hit it. It was enough to cause her to flinch, squinting her eyes tightly shut and ducking her head. Before she could recover a hand grabbed the back of her neck, roughly forcing her head down. Another grabbed her left arm above the wrist and twisted it so the inside of her forearm was more visible. She yelped at the sudden increase in pain, her breathing turning quick and ragged. The Drow held her in that position. She caught the movement of a shadow in front of her – someone was studying her from the door.

With her lithe build and a height five feet, Taibhse was petite for a human. Her long hair shimmered a coppery red in the light. A crosshatch of fine lines covered her back in stark contrast to her pale, fair skin. The only clothing she’d been allowed were two pieces of ragged cloth – one tied around her neck and ribs so that it covered her chest but left her back exposed, the other tied around her hips as a loin cloth. On the inside of her left forearm, just below the elbow, was the mark that had caught the attention of the Drow – a Thayan slave brand.

After several long, painful moments the Drow released her. Her relief was short-lived. One deep breath was all she got before her head was yanked back by her hair. She could now see her tormentor was a male. The angle he held her head at increased the pressure on her shoulders to excruciating levels. Agony made her tremble as muscles, tendons and ligaments stretched, beginning to tear. She let out one soft, barely audible whimper as tears began to fill her eyes.

“Who owns you?” the male demanded, speaking in Common. Taibhse clamped her mouth shut and set her jaw. Her green eyes met his reds ones, holding the gaze. Behind the agony the Drow saw defiance and behind that he saw…fear.
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