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What's in a Name

Postby The_Folex » Sun Dec 26, 2010 5:52 am

The fate of Drow belonging to a fallen House is uncertain at best. While some may wish only to cause pain on the House that defeated their own, or even retain their name in a vain attempt to keep their House alive; it is certain these Houseless Drow are treated as exiles and are often run out of their city, if not killed outright. Escaping from the grisly fate that awaits them in their city, it is not uncommon for Drow to turn to the surface.

Such was the path Suliss'urn Oloth undertook. His past name left behind, he took on the title 'Suliss'urn Oloth', which means 'Graceful Darkness' in the Drow tongue, and devoted himself to the service of Vhaeraun. Such a title he chose because of whispers of a Drow by the same title in the service of Vhaeraun in the environs of Natha, a Drow city far beyond Anchorome. These whispers spoke of a renegade Drow who preyed upon outlying patrols, often mutilating their corpses as a warning to those who ventured too far from their precious Matron Mothers.

Such dreadful whispers they were, but whispers nonetheless. While lower ranking 'expendable' Drow may have taken heed to such tales, no House would ever consider such tales true, much less a threat. Even still, among Vhaeraunites in the vicinity of Natha, this name became a symbol and often parties of Drow in the service of Vhaeraun would ambush small patrols and mutilate their corpses to keep the fear alive.

And thus under this guise the lone Drow arrived to Anchorome. Pay no heed to tales of exceptional Drow who have forsaken their roots for the better; where this name goes only evil follows. Freed from the shackles the Priestesses placed on his class and gender, the lone Drow is free to seek his own fate in Anchorome. Wary of the dark should be any who wish to keep him from this fate, whatever it may be. For in the service of Vhaeraun, this lone Drow will not retreat back into The Underdark. Instead, he has set his eyes to the surface, the rightful place of the Drow. Here the atrocities the Drow are so infamous for will follow him as he drifts unseen under starlight.
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Re: What's in a Name

Postby The_Folex » Sun Jan 02, 2011 8:08 pm

"This will do," Suliss'urn Oloth said to the monk clad in red. The lone Drow had been led to a dark cave near the graveyard by a red monk whose name he cared not to remember. To trust is to die an early death -- one of the many credos the lone Drow lives by -- so he checked the cave twice over for traps. The red monk had done exactly what was asked of him, and the lone Drow was satisfied by this. Vermin wandered into the cave frequently, and there was evidence of a much larger creature who nested in the cave, but the lone Drow had certainly endured worse.

The sun had begun to cause his exposed skin to boil and peel. Drow would do well to cover their skin entirely if they traveled under the fiery sky, but the lone Drow took it upon himself to adjust to the fire quickly. In the deepest reaches of the cave, the lone Drow sat. Under the darkness, he could see heat signatures in the rock once more, and it appeared whatever had made its nest here kept the vermin away; nothing had traveled this far into the caves for some time. Taking out a healing ointment, he began to cover his arms in the foul smelling and thick solution. Within minutes the boils had vanished and his skin no longer peeled. His eyes burned still, and nothing could be done about this, so he closed them and entered deep thought. The lone Drow reflected on the red monk's mannerisms and accent, for his survival in the surfacer realm depended entirely on his ability to blend in.

A significant amount of time passed before the lone Drow opened his eyes and ventured outside into the fire. His skin had begun adjusting well, but his eyes still burned and teared up if left open but only a few seconds. He navigated with great difficulty, for he had to rely mostly on hearing, and the acoustics of the surfacer realm differed from the Underdark greatly. The fire had already begun to wane when he ventured out of his cave, so before long he was under the comfort of starlight.

Finding himself now in the farming outskirts of Lapis Port, he began observing the humans from afar. An Elf by the name of Rory had sneaked up on the lone Drow while he was observing the farmers during the night. Fortunately for the lone Drow, this was not the Underdark, for such ignorance of his environment would have gotten him killed. Turning to see the Elf, the lone Drow met his gaze intensely in an attempt to assess the threat. Though they age slowly, there are many indicators that reveal the true age of those of Elven blood, some only other Elves are familiar with. The eyes are such an indicator, and upon meeting Rory's gaze, the lone Drow immediately could see those eyes had seen a great deal; the Elf was at least century or two his senior.

Aware he could not hope to take this Elf known as Rory, the lone Drow took a small amount of solace in seeing Rory made no attempt to reach for his weapon. The lone Drow let his rapier fall a bit as Rory began asking him questions. The lone Drow saw Rory as brash, blunt, and extremely arrogant, for here was a rogue who cared not who knew his reputation. His personality matched that of a Drow closer than any other surfacer he had met. Among those he despised, other Drow now ranked highest since his exile, but he found this 'Rory' a welcome relief from the concealed intents of the other surfacers, wrapped in a false sense of trust and care. Those under the pretense of a noble heart are the deadliest; another credos of the lone Drow. Rory, however, made his intent clear; he wanted to use the lone Drow for his own benefit. Such agreements were not built on trust, but mutual benefit voided when one becomes a parasite to the other. These were the only deals the lone Drow would dare enter himself in.

After Rory inquired further into the abilities of the lone Drow, they made for Lapis Port, veiled from watchful guards by a caravan. Rory led the lone Drow to the brothel he owned; a front concealing intentions far more nefarious than the dealings of pleasure. The brothel was too loud and too bright for the liking of the lone Drow. Annoyed by this, the lone Drow made no effort to engage in the introductions Rory had been giving to him. Finally, on entering a strange room with filthy Gnomish contraptions, Rory began laying out ground rules that meant nothing to the lone Drow; he cared not to become associated with this surfacer organization enough to break any such rules. The lone Drow made his intentions clear to Rory during this meeting, that while he respected the credos of Mask, he would do nothing whatsoever that would go against his deity, Vhaeraun.

After the mutual agreement was discussed, the lone Drow was introduced to Missy. She was the one guild member he cared to remember, for it was obvious her handiwork with the knife and table rivaled that of even Drow interrogators. The lone Drow then followed Rory down to the required gauntlet. Having become familiar with such tests during a century among the Drow Houses, the lone Drow had no objections to such a test. The gauntlet was abound with traps, some of which, to his surprise, thwarted the lone Drow. Also, the lackeys which he required to sneak past had very keen senses, though the lone Drow did not hesitate to fire arrows on any who detected him. Warned that he must complete the test within 15 minutes or die from a magical poison, the lone Drow took little time to use guile among some of the trials, opting instead to use his rapier and bow he had become so familiar with.

Without considerable difficulty, the lone Drow passed the gauntlet and thus finalized the agreement entered on by himself and Rory. Under those of similar attitude and skill as he, the lone Drow became enveloped in the shadow of Lapis Port, his first objective in a greater plan known only to he. Here he will perfect his craft until Rory's surfacer gang outlive their use. Until then, under the alias of Oloth, the lone Drow will roam Lapis Port under the blanket of night, doing what bidding Rory requires of him so that he may become familiar with the underbelly of the city.

As his skill improves and his wealth increases, the lone Drow plots his return to the Underdark. There, his plan will come to fruition as he spreads the terror native to the title 'Suliss'urn Oloth'.
Dor Maeglin
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Re: What's in a Name

Postby The_Folex » Tue Jan 11, 2011 7:20 pm

The Kill

Months had passed since the lone Drow reluctantly joined the Family. Taking part in but a few guard shifts, Oloth made himself a stranger to the Family shortly after he was accepted, preferring to hone his skills of combat in the fiery daylight. Since then, a silhouette he has become in the night of Lapis Port.

Between the time he had been out of contact with the Family, a Drow named Sorn Vrinn approached Oloth. Sorn Vrinn was the Weaponmaster of House Vrinn and hunting down a renegade Drow. Here, right in front of Oloth, was everything the title Suliss'urn Oloth stood against, but not now, it was too early! Too early in his training that Oloth could not dare hope to take this powerful Weaponmaster, much less the footsoldiers he had close by as well. Vile words they exchanged for a short time, but were it not for protection of this noisy surfacer city, Oloth would have lost his tongue and more.

The lone Drow had a goal now. There was a House in the vicinity of Lapis Port, and soon he will stalk the filth under the fire, for now he has the advantage having become accustomed to the sun. Yet, in his grand scheme of things, old ties called on him. A filthy beggar approached Oloth with a message from Janice that he is to meet her at dinner.

Through the noisy and painfully bright brothel Oloth made his way. He could hear the moans of the customers as soon as he walked in, and the repetitive responses from the whores, pleasuring their customer's ego as well. Strange though, as no screams could be heard from Misty's room. Oloth saw her and Janice at the table, along with a Gnome he bothered not to remember. As Oloth sat, Janice and Misty made constant eye contact with him. Not long ago, these sharp stares would have caused him to avert his eyes, as if he were once more a lesser being among females. His stomach turned on the thought he was ever subject to this, so he met their stares with twice the intensity.

Unsatisfied, Misty began taunting Oloth, calling him naught but a toy. Such insolence! She looked a fraction of Oloth's age at best! How dare these humans taunt those so old, thinking they could even begin to comprehend the collective knowledge of centuries! Still, such fire Oloth admired in Misty, and a good portion of her taunts went unheard as Oloth fantasized about behind tied down to her table, first struck with a leather whip and then soothed with a scented oil massage. Then, escaping from his bonds and removing her clothing piece by piece, reveling in lust and in her bare red skin. He would then throw her on the table, this time restraining her—Oloth had suddenly been reeled back into reality. Janine snapped him out of his fantasy as she dismissed Misty and the Gnome. Acknowledging Oloth was in fact a confident man -- how dare that creature think otherwise! -- Janine offered up a job for Oloth. A customer was unusually rough with one of the girls, rough enough to warrant his death. Here, finally was a proper job for Oloth; no more patrolling the halls, scolding the girls to remain in their rooms. No, here was a task to stalk and kill a man; here was work for a Drow.

Janine went on to explain how this must seem an accident. Oloth had always been proficient with sending a dreadful message via a mutilated corpse, but Janine made certain this would not be the case. She explained the death must not be traceable back to the Family. Furthermore, this filth was one of Cyric's followers, and his devoted are well known as being powerful. All the more challenge, Oloth thought, as he set off for the snowy barbarian village.

Such brightness, the sun reflected by the snow! Truly now he was in the fire as werewolves attacked him while in the barbarian village. He painfully searched for the temple of Cyric, but instead came across the Malar acolytes. Such power these Werewolves had! Their speed was such that their blades paralyzed him before he could properly get into his combat stance. Stricken and unable to move, death followed shortly after.

Oloth opened his eyes and was immediately taken aback; he was a bear! Stumbling now in an effort to get used to his new form, he overheard the Malar acolytes; they turned him so they may hunt him. Running into the forest, Oloth used his heightened senses to detect the acolytes of Malar. As he began to stalk the first acolyte, Oloth's memory became murky. He could remember only flashes of what happened next; flashes bathed in blood and gore. The hunted became the hunter as Oloth tracked down each of the three acolytes and mauled them. Afterward, his memory faded completely.

Suddenly, pain. Indescribable in even the Drow tongue. His bones began to crack; his organs began to shift; his muscles began to tear, all as he shifted to human form. Standing in front of him were two humans; a couple perhaps. The room was filled with strange odors and devices. No ordinary paupers these two were! But Oloth was not thankful, not in the slightest, for the couple had shifted him into a clumsy and old human. How dare the fools shape me into a lesser being! Brandishing his rapier, Oloth demanded they return him to his true form, despite the man's pleas for gold to cover the expenses of the procedure. The minutes that passed were agony for Oloth, for he felt filth all over his despicable form. So pathetic these humans are in their old age! The couple passed Oloth another drink, which he greedily took from their hands and gulped down. The pain was absent this time and he could feel the gracefulness of his true Drow form. However, suddenly he felt off balance.

The vermin! Absolute insolent fools! The pain that awaits them now!


As Oloth turned a deeper shade of black in his rage, the couple realized he was left with a tail. The main offered a quick solution; scissors. The sheer audacity of that insect! No words were needed to make it clear to the man he should continue with another potion instead. Quicker than ever the couple worked, as they surely began to fear for their lives given the furious Drow in their house. Finished, they then passed Oloth yet another potion. Flawless! Surprisingly, Oloth felt no anger toward the couple now, and even went on to pay the expenses of the materials used to restore him. He asked the couple for directions to the temple of Cyric and then finally continued on with his task.

Dreadful architecture, this temple of Cyric was. Surely had Oloth not been accustomed to such intimidating craftsmanship, he would have thought twice about crossing those inside. As he approached, he could hear numerous voices inside. Much too many to simply hide from, so he produced a ring from his belt pouch and put it on. He twisted it twice to activate it and stepped inside the temple once someone opened the door. Even invisible, Oloth had to take great care to not make a sound, for the acolytes seemed very perceptive of their environment and likely would not be surprised if someone was lurking around in their temple, rather they'd probably be prepared. Still, this proved little challenge as he spotted the man Janine described to him. He made his way toward the man and leaned against the wall, waiting for his mark to stop socializing and leave.

Finally, the guard did begin to leave. Just in time too, as Oloth looked down to his hands and saw them beginning to take form again. Luckily, he was not spotted walking out of the temple, but he still had the task of following the man close behind without being noticed. Stepping only when the man stepped, he managed to successfully tail him far enough from the temple to put his plan into action and complete his task. Just as he planned, the man had come across the corpses of a few Werecats Oloth had slain. Turning around, the man came face-to-face with Oloth. Interrupting the man as he began to ask who the hell he was, he simply said Janine sends her regards and ran the man through with his rapier. Blood squirted from the wound and would have drenched Oloth had he not been accustomed to stepping aside after such a critical strike. The man tried to yell for help, but it was to no avail as Oloth covered his mouth for the few seconds he still had life in him. Feeling him go limp, Oloth released him and he fell crumpled on the ground. Following Janine's instructions, Oloth dragged the body closer to the Werecats and slashed the body of the guard to make it appear the Werecats had killed him.

Taking care to cover his tracks at the scene, Oloth made his was back to the ship headed for Lapis Port. He stayed below deck the entire voyage back, for while he was much more accustomed to the light now, the white snow, so very bright, had caused his eyes to water again. Arriving at Lapis Port under the cover of night, Oloth made his way back into the Pretty Peacock, informing Janine on how he handled the task, with a few minor details left out. After payment, Janine urged Oloth to become more a part of the Family, and said that there will likely be something else for him in a few weeks.

Only one thing is for certain; Oloth has no desire to become any more involved with the Family as he already is. Much they have taught him as he studied their mannerisms and accents. They were beginning to outlive their use to Oloth; soon he will leave them. Perhaps, though, for the first time in his long life, he will say goodbye. The Family has taught him much, and Oloth would go so far as to say he was becoming attached to some of them, causing conflict with his many credos.

All the better reason for him to leave. Depend on no one but yourself.
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Re: What's in a Name

Postby The_Folex » Mon May 09, 2011 2:21 am

I am darkness in the light, the shadow under the sun. The surface fire still scorches scathingly, but I have adapted accordingly. Arm yourselves, you surfacer Drow who do not follow under His rule. Vhaeraun and his children shall scurry under the moonlight once more. Once more shall his children mingle among the surfacers, and once more shall we rule this realm. No more shall I allow my kin to be confined among the patriarchy of the Drow female under Lolth. Under my rapier shall they perish, and so they already have, for truly I am now Suliss'urn Oloth, a whisper of fear in the Underdark as well as the surface for those who do not follow His divine will. Our time under the moonshadow is at hand, and I am the hand guiding these motion forward now. Now is our time! Now is MY time!
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