K'yon Oblodra rising star in Sshamath's game for power (LBE)

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K'yon Oblodra
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K'yon Oblodra rising star in Sshamath's game for power (LBE)

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First Name: K'yon
Last Name: Oblodra (Dobluth'oblodra)

Appearance: Tall sized drow male with exquisite facial features
Race: Drow
Age: 122
Height above average
Weight: slightly above average due to his increased bodysize and quite muscular build
Eyes: Shining Red
Hair: purely white and currently short
Facial Hair Style: well duh

Personality Profile: typical drow features driven by the lust for power, the fear of failure and the anger about the lack of power he just does not deserve
General Health: very healthy
Deity: Lipservice to Loth
Initial Alignment: Neutral Evil
Profession: Artist
Base Class & Proposed Development: Wizard/Arcane Scholar/Archmage
Habits/Hobbies: Drawing and creating sculputres but also more practical items
Languages: Undercommon, Common and many more
Weapon of Choice: He tends to wear a Staff, wading into combat swinging it like a peasant would his scythe is however below him

Background:

Image
[The Sigil of House Oblodra]

K'yon grew up as the son of K'yorl Odran and Tsabanor Oblodra the Matron Mother and Patriarch of the most powerful house of Menzoberranzan or at least it was what he was taught from the very beginning.
The families’ compound clung to a cliff face between two fingers of the Clawrift, in which the houses’ kobold slaves lived in their pens and tunnels.
House Oblodra was supposed to have over 600 kobold slaves within the rift but K'yon never tried to count them nor did he care much for the lives of these lesser creatures. His house was known for psyionic powers, there were stories about Oblodran females training and even mating with Illithids although he never had to witness any such thing.
He knew that his mother regularly hunted these beasts and suspected her to nurture her powers on them somehow but was never sure how exactly that might work.
He had his very spacious quarters but rarely did he use them as he was busy as most young drow.
Despised by his mother, constantly abused by his brother Drizfryn and avoided by his mute father, more than usual even for drow standards, he lived his young life in the families’ compound in Duthcloim.

Image
[The great City of Menzoberranzan]

His existence mainly pain, only his sister Quavylene was bringing light to his otherwise dark life. She would not be nice to him but she would not shun him which already left a great feel within K'yon.
She acknowledged what he did and was, often admiring the drawings and sculptures he'd create from creatures he would hunt down in the wilds around Menzoberranzan.
Using the blood of the different beasts to draw, some would offer great colors otherwise hard or impossible to attain. Bones and other hard components like shells, he would use to craft sculptures or chairs and similar items.
His art caught the whole beauty of death and was unique in that way.
One day, having gifted a chair made of the bones of a human slave to Quavlene, he was called to her chambers by one of the kobold slaves. He walked fidgety from one side of the compound to the opposite not knowing what might await him. Upon entering her chambers he would gaze at her amazed. She was floating above the floor, not high, but she was clearly not meeting the floor with her feet. Seeing her younger brother's face she fell into a laughter maintaining her current stance. He was still young only a couple decades old, little did he know about his psychic potential.
This was the first day she would show him how to tap into his psionic potential to levitate.
He learned this intricate technique quite fast and was soon able to maintain levitation for exceptionally long durations.
This training was done behind the barred doors of his sister's chambers and only in short sessions, noone was to know of their little secret so he practiced longer performances in his own chambers only.

Only a few spans later K'yon was forced to partake in his first Khaless.

In the game, Khaless, two drow would cast “darkness” and “silence” over the Clawrift. The challengers would start levitating and enter the globes. The drow who exited first would be the loser and in many cases both drow would fall to their deaths when unable to maintain their levitation.

Having practiced many nights, sometimes even levitating while asleep he was able to surpass his opponent by far, to the surprise of his Matron Mother.
Later he was constantly forced to play the game keeping an unbeaten record, sometimes staying days in the dark.
Soon he was acknowledged by the Matron as a useful tool to rid herself of rivals during the long lasting games of Khaless.

This acknowledging brought him a token of gratitude from K'yorl. He was to master the arts of psionic powers but after proving little talent for anything else besides the levitation he had so eagerly taken on, he was soon expelled from these teachings and tasked to achieve greatness in melee combat.

Drizfryn would teach him lessons in combat if only to show him what a weak little Kobold he was and to gain a sadistic pleasure from beating him into a bloody pulp over and over again. On a good day he would show him a new technique to torment kin, including K'yon. The bad days usually ended with him awakening in the chambers of his sister, who would have tended to his wounds, sometimes perhaps deadly ones if not for her. These moments always left him in a happy state, if only for a short while, because he would never be allowed to stay for long, often barely able to walk, when forced out of the chambers by his Matron Mother.
Sometimes when he was barely able to stand with his next "training" with Drizfryn nearing, his brother Hazaufein would drag him into the library and hide him there for a few spans. He would explain all things magic to K'yon, however while having a knack for the formulas, gestures and magic in general, he just really despised these hours of tutelage, abstract and far from life as they always felt. Hazaufein was the houses mage which basically meant noone treated him with much respect, least of all Drizfryn which was probably why he was hiding K'yon.
Never did it feel like there was much sympathy between Hazaufein and his younger brother, it was more likely that the aid he was lending, was merely a way to deny his rival the deep pleasures of torturing another.
In a way K'yon was still thankful for it, he just never felt much for Hazaufein anyways.
Drizfryn always thanked K'yon for not showing up to the training by mocking him for hiding in the Kobold pens, asking him if he'd created an offspring with them that was equally ugly and fearful as him and later of course the usual physical punishment K'yon was getting more and more used to.

Image
[From left to right: Hazaufein, Quavylene, K’yorl, K’yorl’s first advisor, Drizfryn (K’yon and his father not being on this picture showing the little significance they had within the family)]

Despite all the agony he would have to endure the training was not the worst of all things. Much more gruesome were the hours in which the Matron Mother would psionically torment Quavylene. The psionic abilities that ran in his family bloodline were weak within him, which was one of the reasons he was shunned by K'yorl. However a link had established between him and his sister enabling them to share great pains to easier surpass the most extreme hardships. The Mother's psionic torture of her daughter were sadistic enough to be much harsher than anything ever passed on to him by Drizfryn, even though he was only feeling parts of the pain Quavylene must have had to endure.
Over the years not only the bond between the two siblings was further forged into a thick strong cord also their shared hate for the Matron Mother. The pain the two secretly shared grew and grew as if K'yorl was trying to break the spirit of her daughter, not understanding how she could have possibly endured the already partaken.
Fearing for their sanity Quavylene forged a plan to rid them of the sadistic house spirit. Step one of the plan was to harden her psionic defenses against the intrusion into the deepest depths of her psyche where she would need to hide her schemes otherwise her mother would not be deceived.
While more years passed K'yon was not resting while his sister prepared for this ultimate quarrel. He took on from the lessons of Drizfryn whatever he could, slowly but steadily becoming a suitable fighter and even picking up a few tricks from Hazaufein, although still having immense troubles to interest himself for the obscure art magic can be. The days where he would end up bleeding and bruised became rare, at times he would need to let Drizfryn hit him as if still toppled, to have an opportunity to meet Quavylene. While their bond was strong it did not allow them to communicate beyond simple emotions and only extreme ones at that.
When finally the day had come it was K'yon who accompanied his mother into the wilds around Menzoberranzan. Quavylene would meet them with a large group of mercenaries to execute their dreadful tormentor.
K'yon had lured his Mother out of Menzoberranzan by nurturing her hopes of finding an especially potent Illithid which would be of use to further enrich the family with psionic potential.
Arriving in a chasm the Illithid had after a relatively short hunt fled to, they entered and had soon cornered the beast. K'yon dismembered it swiftly leaving it with no way to crawl or fight back against the procedure the Head of the House of Oblodra was beginning on the helpless Mindflayer.

Image
[Scene of the Struggle between Ilharess K'yorl and the Illithid]

This was when Quavylene arrived with the group of mercenaries to end it, they were sure K'yorl would be so entangled in the mind of the flayer it would keep her from detecting her pending doom. However when they moved to strike her down the group of mercenaries was suddenly not of any help, they had brought them as a security measure should their mother be able to fight back despite being occupied with her prey. Now they were standing between them and their ultimate goal. The two siblings fought well but the superior numbers of the sellswords was just not to be overcome quickly and after a few seemingly endless minutes the Matron Mother had finished her “extraction” and calmly turned to the fight that had taken the lives of nearly a dozen of mercenaries.
K'yon quickly realized their fight was lost when becoming unable to move due to the psychic suppression his mother had laid onto him. Quavylene who had much more psionic talent and prowess in defending against such attacks was still struggling with the Matron's will when the mercenaries were able to restrain her in a much more physical way.
K'yorl expressed her pleasure of seeing the ability of her oldest daughter to scheme in such a delicate way with the following monologue:

"I daresay I am impressed not only were you able to hide your intentions from me despite all the psychic probing.... I mean I knew your abilities were extraordinary all along but you also were going to use this specific moment of distraction to slay me. The biggest achievement but also your undoing is perhaps your way of charming this poor little dog *she spat in K'yons' direction* to help you in your doing. He is almost devote to you but his psionic inability is your downfall. While your mind was shielded, he was an open book to me giving me all the information needed... Unwillingly of course but nonetheless quiet freely.” Her voice grew cold “I also know how you were able to endure my "treatment" without further repercussions now....No more!"

After this K'yon was to be put down like the dog he was but his sisters’ threat of killing herself coupled with the inability of the Matron to keep her from doing so psionically lead to the survival of him.

His punishment and probably moreso Quavylene's was the removal of a small part of his brain that carried his anyhow minimal psionic powers. Stripped of their bond Quavylene would not be able to withstand the torture of her mother for long.
After that surprisingly painless procedure of pulling brains through his nose which left it bleeding and him feeling in an disconcertingly way empty.

From very early on in his life he had had something, he was never able to put in words, now that it was missing it was clear as glass infront of him. Quavylene, he had never been truly alone once their bond had been forged and now, now a part of him had just vanished.

Emptiness...there was nothing more than emptiness for a long while. He watched how everything that had belonged to him was dragged from his chambers to the yard of the complex. Everyone was watching as they burned paintings of vast beauty, sculputres made of bones, pincers, teeth and the various body parts monsters could consist of, his furniture he had made of rare woods, if not of bones of his enemies, they even burned something as trivial as his bed sheets.
While they were watching he was seeing but did not reckognize any of his former belongings, the only thing he felt was what he did no longer feel and would never feel again.
The bond to the one person who had been with him all his life, shared his sucess, when he would finish one his paintings in their grim glory praising death and his defeats, when he'd wake up beaten and bruised to the bone by Drizfryn.
Now he was yearning to feel the pain she had secretly shared with him during the countless hours of torment, but there was none.

Hours later the blood from his nose had left a streak of dried brown blood on his obsidian features. He felt a pricking in his back, he turned absentmindedly to see what was happening, when he saw the spears forcing him to leave his former home. He did not resist, even the appearance of Quavylene and her desperate cries could not shake off this dizzyness that had taken possession of him. He saw her, he knew her and yet she was not the same, she was like the painting of a person that you knew and loved, it was similar yet an entirely different thing, not real.

While walking out of the premises of the House Oblodra he heard his mothers' voice:

... for this treason he shall be stripped of all his belongings and be forever exiled! He however shall not live freely but is to join one of the schools of magic and devote his life to MAGIC!

K'yorl had almost spit this last word. She did not want K'yon to live a life in freedom, he should have to endure the rest of his years embracing something he so passionately despised. Oh she knew, she knew how much he had hated the hours of lecture Hazaufein had so zealously given.

The words ended and a storm of flying stones began. The first hitting his left shoulder blade awakened him with a stinging pain, for the first time since the lobotomy he had felt something even if only the very animalistic drive to survive.

So he ran, he ran until his lungs burned, his legs stumbled and he fell into the dust. Awaking only much later when an enourmous thirst forced him to cough up the dust he had rested his head on. He went to find some water and then followed the dangerous trail to his destiny which would either be his death on the way to the great city of Sshamath or in one of their schools of magic were he would awfully fail.



Goals:

- Joining the schools of necromancy in Sshamath as it fits his art being centered around death ACHIEVED

- gaining influence and power within Sshamath

- Surface conquest

- becoming a great historical figure for all Illythiiri

- creating a "perfect undead"

Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:

- his father lost his tongue round about when K'yon was born; K'yon might not be his mothers son

- K'yon might use his influence gained in Sshamath to help his Sister in Menzoberranzan

- upon hearing of K'yon's possible future success in the school of necromancy K'yorl might send some assassin to kill K'yon preventing any kind of happiness to find it's way into K'yon's life

- House Oblodra is destroyed in 1358 DR K'yon could feel this psionically maybe even his sisters death or her surviving somehow

- K'yorl his Illharess is held hostage by the demon Errtu after house oblodras destruction, she could try to contact K'yon psionically

- finding ways to combine necromancy and his art to further improve it (creating colours from undead creatures; sculptures from killed foes or similarly twisted things)

- utilizing the recently obtained Illithid brains to restore his psychic link to his sister (doomed to fail I know ;))

- finding a use for the Illithid brains in creating his perfect Undead

- taming a nightmare is one of his more childish desires

- he has been using a mixture of Illithid brains, Xeyn Zau'afin's blood and other components to great success in healing severe damages to general health as well as the brains of a drow that will stay unnamed

- utilising Displacer Beast hides and a secretion from one of their glands, he was able to create skin covering patches that would be able to hide scars or any kind of unpleasantries concerning skin

Notable items:

Envy Edge : K'yon's family sword was recently further enchanted by a Charnag Maelthra Enchanter as reward for clearing a temple of the cult of tiamat in service to Sshamath's Council


(I tried not to use drow terms as I found that to be just disturbing when trying to read others stories)

PS any help to improve this is very much welcome
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Fri Feb 07, 2020 5:20 am, edited 15 times in total.
K'yon Oblodra
Necromancer of the school of Necromancy
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

After surviving the trip from Menzoberranzan to Sshamath. Mastering a few rather harsh encounters without taking any scars. His attire had suffered direly.

With the little gold he had left he bought some chainmail of honestly rather poor quality and simple equipment for his hunts.

He needed to reestablish his tinctures and colors he had to leave behind in his chambers. The only bit he had left had been used for signing his letter to the School of Necromancy as he had planned it all along.

He was worried his request to get the faern to come to him might not have been respectful enough. However if he was lucky the smell of death and the intricate color he had chosen to sign would awaken their curiosity.
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Sat Mar 18, 2017 8:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

*K'yon smiled selfconfidently*

It had worked the School of Necromancy had come to Gloura's to pick him up. Not just some recruiter but high necromancer Beldroin.

She had asked a few questions and seemed to have been a bit disappointed about his rather limited magical abilities but he had been registered to the school and even gotten a private tour by the high necromancer herself.

She had warned him of the dangers of Necromancy but he was sure he would prove his skill over the years to come.
He would prepare every practice, every spell, every ingredient like he did with his drawings... Everything needed to be perfect!
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Sat Sep 07, 2019 2:48 am, edited 2 times in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

- Revised the ending of the background story

- adjusted some plot-hooks

- minor tweaks related to the change of the story
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:51 am, edited 2 times in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

Pale Grey
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Spending time in the practice rooms of the school was torture. Not only did he need to wrap his head around dusty books and from age browned scrolls with obscure signs and for his liking way to abstract descriptions how gestures needed to be performed, incantations needed to be pronounced and finally combined to which feeling they were supposed to lead before resulting in a successfully cast spell.

He would stand in between other drow, way further advanced in the matter then he was, following the afore read instructions, holding the oddest components and focuses required for the various spells he had chosen to be his first. All that between other drow and whatever filth of the other races was around to display their newly taken on feats of their magical prowess.

At first he was trying his patience with the spell other initiates had recommended as beginner spell. Rainbow Spray, one that had incredibly random effects accompanied by a pretty impressive if silly looking visuals representing what the spell was named after... a rainbow. The casting required a material component, three to be precise, red, blue and yellow colored sand. At first he had troubles keeping the three different colors apart but after severel tries he had lost enough sand to make it a lot easier spraying away sand while performing the required gestures. Nothing magical happened however, sure he was brilliantly entertaining his "fellow" students. He was beginning to think they had just wanted him to look silly, almost like a fairy in the tales the stuck up high elves might tell their kids. After countless tries and a lot of laughter of the surrounding students he resigned trying on this spell. It was obviously too advanced for his still unpracticed mind and hands.

So he went on to his potentially easier exercise a seemingly useless spell that would warn him of possible trespassers coming into a before marked area. For him it would be a small cantrip that would keep him save in his hours of concentrated drawing or whenever he would prepare ingredients for colors, components for spells.

It would be of use.

That of course required him to be able to perform the spell first and foremost.
Once again he was standing there gesturing, this time with a bell as focus in his shaking hands.
Imagine the shame, every single time he would try the bell would ring. The fragile sound screaming out the failure of his humble efforts. After at least three dozens he'd give up. His concentration was shaken, not by the continous ridicule he fell victim to, but by a hushed conversation that had hit his ears like a shock.

"The sewers are dangerous.... not only bats and gray oozes... more dangerous creatues"

Image
[A vivid picture pushed away any and all thoughts he'd had]


Gray oozes was all he really heard and the fact that he would be able to find them in the sewers. He'd need to go there, stay there for quiet some time and collect the gelatinuous beasts' essence!

The grey he would distill with their unwilling help, would enable him to get a decent primer for his next masterpiece. It alone was not enough to create such magnificence but set a marvelous base he just had to possess.

The smell would be worse than the time he had aided the guards of Sshamath to kill a bunch of escaped slaves. In a moment of fury he had cut a bugbear in half from tip to toe and besmirched his entire face, chainmail and even his trousers with the spilled guts and brains or whatever it was this filth consisted of. It had taken weeks to rid him of the smell. The sewers would not treat him better.

"Maybe I should fail on a cleaning spell next!" he thought to himself leaving the practice hall behind him not caring about the bewildered looks he reaped for his sudden departure.
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:52 am, edited 4 times in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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Flasmix
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by Flasmix »

Bio approved. Name has to be changed to K'yon Dobluth'Oblodra as per DM Dialectic.

Please hit up a DM for your xp and name change.
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Pugratix to a snarky militia man: "Mmmm. Not yet. I will live for hundreds of years and be heralded as one of the greatest forces of destruction on the face of the world. The only thing you can destroy is the outhouse."
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by DM Lobo »

//exp awarded, and names seems in order.
...Black wolf of the night

All text in Blue is My personal opinion and NOT related to the DM team
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

Essences
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Everything was prepared, he had worked on minor chores for the school. From cleaning the practice rooms, the class rooms and the library to transporting corpses. These lower kind of works were of course below him and worst of all brought him derision and mocking of his fellow students.

Nonetheless things were turning for the better, not only was he able to afford an although used still quiet impressive distillery, made of very resilient quartz glass. A large apparatus that would serve him well for his studies of alchemy as well as his artistic ambitions.

Another fortunate turn of fate was that while transporting corpses for the sake of the school he had met two acolytes. While the initiates were doing all they could to turn his life into misery, the acolytes seemed to be above the squabbles of the scum.
Phaere was a female of over average beauty or so he suspected, she was covering herself face and body for the most part. However he was able to guess a well shaped body underneath it all and the way she moved and sent out words to the her surrounding males implied that she was feeding of a rather large self-esteem.
The other at least as noteworthy acolyte was going by the name Nyloth Tanor'Thal, he was quiet versed in magic. Having seen K'yon's inability to cast and not shunning or belittling him. A very unusual behavior which nurtured hopes of possibly finding someone who might tutor him.
Having allies amongst the acolytes had already lead to a few of the other initiates being slightly more respectful not participating in the sadistic mockery of the others.

Now however he had something else in mind, the sewers were awaiting him. He had carried the parts of his distillery all over town to the other entrance of the sewers. One was right in front of the School, using it would have been too dangerous though. Everyone would have seen him, leaving his distillery prone to thievery or just plain destruction through his rivals. So he had no other chance but to carry the apparatus part for heavy part kilometres through Sshamath. This way it was first and foremost possible to transport the burden at all and secondly unseen.

Down in the warm and moist atmosphere of the sewers not mentioning the nauseating smell he went hunting. The gray oozes had what he was longing for, when killed, if one wanted to call their existence life, they left a trace of grey slime. One had to be fast to recover it or else it would dispers between ones hands. He had prepared vials to catch their essence, he was sure their sole purpose was to deliver their rich grey color. While thinking it he already realized he hated that word, it was out of place... Color. The grey he'd obtain from these otherwise useless beasts was not a mere color, there was life within even in death they were emanating a fascinating glow.
These colors were not colors, no certainly not. From now on he would call them essences.

The slimy breed proved to be no challenge for his mighty club swinging. Casting spells still proved an unsurmountainable challenge for him so he had to resort to plain and simple violence. In a way this inability upset him, the brute beating of the oozes and the feeling of superiority he'd not felt for a long time however had some very distinct appeal.

So he was bashing oozes, at times he'd round them up, sometimes half a dozen at once. At one point, he was swinging his club at one of the oozes, caught surprised.
His swing suddenly pending, he could not move. Why could he not move? He was just standing there watching the oozes he'd lured to their death slowly encroaching on him. A fear grew in him, a glimpse of a feeling at first. Hearing the slimy body of an ooze grasping his left and another his right boot with slurping noises, a sizzling hinting at the corrosive effect they had on the fine leather. Unable to move he could not see making the horror only worse. Two more oozes were constricting their wobbly masses. They were readying to jump! In an act of sheer willpower he broke free of the paralyzing hold, rolled over and landed on his feet, the oozes missing his face and chest in the process. A shiver ran down his spine, the thought of his face meeting the same fate as his boots was sure unpleasant. The fine leather was in ruin only the inside lining was left where the oozes had been "caressing" the last remains of his formerly rich wardrobe.
A petty these boots had carried his family's insignia the last true proof of his heritage.
Pushing these thoughts aside, eyeing the opponents that had so suddenly become a threat to him, he felt a prickling sensation on his neck. There clearly was blood on it, slowly pouring out of two teeny holes. His eyes became small slits, some kind of bat was wavering over the oozes with the flapping movement of its hairy wings.
What a disgusting place he had come to. Art took great sacrifices he said to himself, while killing the bat like creature in a swift strike of his two-hander, withdrawing from the battle with a nimble backward roll over his left shoulder. The rest was easy, he exchanged the two-hander with the simple club. The oozes were impervious to a slashing kind of weapon like his sword but with a weapon as blunt and simple as a club he battered one of the oozes after another, all the while catching their essence in the aforementioned vials.

After that last encounter he'd had enough, not only of the oozing mass but also of the fighting, so he returned to his improvised camp swiftly at first. After several minutes however he began to slow down, he was not feeling quiet well. Walking had not always been such a strain had it? Upon arrival at his camp side he barely managed to aim for his sleeping bag, fell more than he layed down and faded into an uneasy sleep.

At first there was only darkness, then there was a name... One that felt awfully familiar... K'yon... it was but a whisper to begin the voice belonged to Quavylene that he was sure of. Only moments later what had begun as a timid question turned into a cacophony he could barely withstand.
He rose from his dream sweating the cold sweat of the diseased, only a dream, and fell back into a deep slumber.

A nibbling on his right foot wakened him, a rat. With a couple of weak attempts he was able to shake her off his maltreated boots. He felt weak, hungry, thirsty beyond measure, he must have slept for cycles, how many he didn't know. Sure was only that he needed to see a priest, take a long bath and new clothes, clean clothes and a pair of new boots.

That however needed to wait he had come down here for a reason and it was surely not to retreat in shame. So he began lighting a fire, one that was larger than needed but the additional warmth would help his aching body. The flask he needed to hang a little higher now so the liquid would not take up too much heat. He poured the twenty-four vials into quartz vessel, watching the mass sizzle at the first drops when the ooze would hit the already hot glass. Had he not been freezing so pitifully he had filled the flask at first, in his condition however he had needed the warming embrace of the lid camp fire desperately. The small amount of burned mass did not matter it would stick to the glass until properly cleaned, not endangering his precious grey primer that was already slowly dripping into the flask for the distillate.
Once completely done he'd go to his chambers in the school, change clothes and take a bath to later be clean, when talking to the local cleric paying to have his ailments removed. "Damn bat!" He thought, that would cost him a fortune.
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

Unread post by K'yon Oblodra »

Surprises

Days had passed since the "incident" at the school. He no longer had to report in regularly and decided to use that to aquire some more materials for his next painting.

Wandering through the streets of Sshamath he spotted an Orc, well probably a half-orc, talking down to what must have clearly been his master, a blue dragon. Not a very large one at that but surely the more intelligent of the two.
So he intervened and called the Orc to order. The orc was clearly an ugly specimen of an ugly species. Half-Orcs however are known to be formidable fighters and one following a dragon made the duo spark his interest.

He wanted to hunt a certain kind of beetle, the kind that can cut a tree in half with its mandibles, not knowing in how large groups they tended to wander the Underdark he deemed the two a welcome company.

He asked them if they would accompany him and was ready to offer them a decent amount of gold but was surprised as they just came along saving him much needed gold in the process.
They ventured on and after remarking the terrible accent of the Orc, very much to his surprise the Brute switched to speaking draconic. Having grown up with mainly kobold slaves he knew this language quiet well and liked it, it had a very harmonic ring to it.
The next thing that hit K'yon by surprise was when the orc told the dragon to wait and the dragon complied like a mere pet.

What happened next was beyond explanation K'yon watched probably the most wondrous thing he had ever witnessed. Before his eyes the skin of the orc was ripping apart, slow at first, something shimmering was breaking free from underneath. The transformation probably did not take more then mere seconds, the shimmering things were scales and after what looked like a very painful act of growing teeth and horns of of his head the orc had ascended into the graceful shape of a dragon.

Image

K'yon's jaw dropped, how could a simple-minded beast turn into one of the most gracious and intelligent creatures that ever walked the face of faerun.
He decided to treat this exceptional and wondrous creature with more respect.

As you can imagine killing a couple of beetles was not overly difficult with such a force at his side, he rather had to ask, very politely one might add, that the mighty beast not completely annihilate even the remains with its icy breath.

After a short while they had decimated what felt like half of the Underdark's stag beetle population. K'yon had a hard time carrying all the pincers, containing the precious essence he needed for his next marvelous masterpiece.

Thanking the "exception" for his invaluable assistance he got lectured about the importance of its more humble form. He had not understood why the beast would not just stay his so proud and pretty form as dragon.

Following that conversation he made his way "home", realizing the place K'yorl had sent him to to endure death, shame and psychological pain. Had become a rather pleasant Sanctuary.
Ridding himself of the initiates' leader had put an abrupt end to any and all harassment, leaving the school a quiet place with many a things to learn. The bonds forged with his new found allies within made it all the more enjoyable.
K'yon Oblodra
Necromancer of the school of Necromancy
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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It had been days, long days. K'yon had been reading in books and scrolls about spells of the first and second circle and occasionally about more private matters, like how to gain liquid substances from tissue more efficiently.

Then he'd go and practice whatever spells he had wrapped his head around. He was pleased, first circle spells no longer made his head hurt no matter how many times he cast them or how many different he memorized, about to break into the second circle, he could feel it.

Yet he was not satisfied, he'd become much better at showing interest in magic or bad become fun to an extend. Remembering the Times Hazaufein had tried to teach him it was nearly astonishing with which eagerness he had been moving straight through the realm of the arcane arts.

Art of course, that was what he was missing, he'd been so focused, it hadn't appealed to him but he was missing his art. It was then, he decided to leave the town with his easel and the colors he'd been able to distill, grind or mix in complex alchemical exercises.

Fighting the escaped slaves brought a long yearned pleasure to him, in an area most of Sshamath's inhabitants would have much rather avoided, he thrived.
Striking fear into the ilbith's (specimen of lesser races) hearts combining his combat skills with the arcane ones' in most sadistic ways.

He'd weaken bugbears slicing them with his sword bringing them to "run" for their lives. They wouldn't get far weakened by the negative energy rays they'd end up crawling their legs giving in to their very own weight. K'yon would walk next to his crawling pray and deliver small cuts to their entire body leaving them to bleed out ever so slowly. Others he'd just slowly kill and freeze the impression of their death in their faces with frost enducing spells. Finally a sense of satisfaction spread through him, he felt more alive than in his sheer endless practice session.

His masterpiece however he kept for the slave leader, a rather tall, for a goblin anyhow, goblin with what seemed to be more intelligence than the rest of the ilbith's he'd surround himself with.
The pittyful creature was tied to two posts that had been part of a sloppily constructed tent. A round hole with the size of a human's head had been cut into its stomach. The wound wasn't bleeding as the weapon that had caused this mayhem was hot enough to cauterize the opened up arteries and veins.
K'yon had his easel set up already several hours ago, busying himself drawing the surrounding of his main act, then his limbs. The painting was basically finished only the facial expression and the wound were missing when K'yon stepped back from the easel looking at the prepared setting with a mildly aroused.
Turning to his victim smiling wide, spreading his legs to gain a firm stance, words formed by his mouth and a tiny ball of ice slowly growing within his hands. As he forced the orb out of the caress of his hands it had grown as to perfectly fit into the so carefully prepared entry. The ball slowly moved through the air emitting a crackling as the water in the surrounding began to freeze and fall to the ground.

Image

Painfully slow the ball made its way to its recipient who in horror tried to free himself fighting with the little life that was left in him to break the chains that held him. An earspltting scream echoed through the caverns as the icy orb touched the edges of the grim wound, the creature felt himself freezing solid from within and the expression displayed on its face was pure terror.

K'yon stood there soaking in every nuances of this filthy creatures demise, he'd blessed it, in its death it became so much more than it could have achieved in life, serving as inspiration for truly majestic and everlasting art.
It's death would later be captured on canvas a tribute to death itself, in all its beauty and all its glory.
K'yon Oblodra
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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K'yon had been happy with how these last cycles had gone he'd made allies outside the school and ventured deeper into the Underdark then he had ever before, after his journey from Menzoberranzan anyhow.

He had met the most fascinating female he had ever met. She was awestrikingly beautiful, clever and seemingly interested in him despite his fatal error of getting knocked out twice during their ventures.
She seemed interested in fighting styles of others often remarking about their strong points while hinting at weaknesses as well.

Unfortunately he had to focus on his arcane progress otherwise he might have been able to impress her in some more martial ways. However his artistic traits seemed to intrigue her or so he at least hoped.

Fittingly enough they hunted basiliscs, just enough for him to retrieve their spleens for its obsidian essence he could perfectly utilize to paint his new found interest's skin.

"Laele" , he thought, "what a pleasant ring that had to it!"
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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Cycle after cycle had passed. K'yon had been very involved in school internal obligations, focused on improving on his position within. However he needed to increase his arcane prowess to gain more influence and that was proving to be a hard nut to crack.

What had begun almost confusingly efficient considering his inability to find interest in the arcane for years, had once more turned into a tortuous crawl. He had spend countless hours trying to wrap his head around the fourth circle spells but as in his beginnings all his endeavors had only lead to fizzling sounds and many a headache.

He had often tried to meet with his allies made in the previous months. With little success to his displeasure.
Now he'd been out to once more to complete some of his many tiring chores and his heart made a jump. "Laele!" The sight of her was the most pleasant experience he had had in what felt like aeons and immediately a warm feeling rose from his guts.

She was talking to a masked figure, her employer as he learned quiet quickly and a rather powerful mage as he'd learn only a little later. The two parted and only moments later they were alone. Him and this exceptional female, that was so different from the many arrogant and "superior" females he had met in Menzoberranzan. Basically any and all besides his beloved Quavylene.

He had dreamed of both of them, strange dreams in which both seemed intertwined almost as if they were one entity, always the dream ended in their death and him waking soaked in sweat screaming. He didn't know what these dreams meant but he was surely relieved to see at least her alive.

The two went through the Underdark indulging their shared passion, killing the beasts of the Underdark meanwhile accessing a few of the needed items for his chores. At some point they met up with Quavy... Laele's employer who warded them, seemingly Laele was fulfilling chores for him as K'yon was doing his for the various people who's support he was hoping to gain.

After several hours of joyous slaughter the two had begun killing basiliscs and he'd collect more of their obsidian essence which would so perfectly blend into Laele's skin color for his painting.

It was then, when they met with a group of his aforementioned allies A'statyaneel and Galawain. They were drawn into an unpleasant conversation and even more unpleasantly, A'statyaneel revealed that the wizard that had warded them had followed them, possibly all along. Anger rose in him at the thought of having been followed and observed for all this time... Did she know... the thought of it enfuriated him and it was hard to hide his anger from her so he decided to part from Laele under a pretense of having to get back to the school.

On his way back his mind was shadowed with hateful emotions but on the bright side of things this hate seemed to fuel his ambitions to learn, to grow in power, to ultimately allow himself to rid him of these unpleasant figures that had ruined this otherwise so brilliant cycle.
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:56 am, edited 1 time in total.
K'yon Oblodra
Necromancer of the school of Necromancy
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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He had signed up and joined the "training" of the Charnag Maelthra.
The first training had been silly a competent Illythiiri and a few others were pitted with a bunch of ilbith and supposed to form a "team".
Duergars and Gnomes alongside with Illythiiri as part of an "elite team" how they called it, fighting together to reach their common goal whatever that might be.
It made him sick to his stomach, in Menzoberranzan something like this would never had happened, what was going on in the heads of these people?
The training consisted of beating an opponent in K'yon's case it had been himself, a mirror image of himself, obviously the image of him was much weaker than himself. He had beat it without breaking to sweat, of course!
The others had done quiet well usually, especially the Duergar called Brokk seemed to have beaten his opponent quiet handily and despite being a bit of a loud mouth K'yon had to acknowledge his fighting prowess as impressive.
Only one of the "elite" had failed his test and had actually been beaten. The incredible Kiplin, incredible in stuttering and driving K'yon to the edge of his self-composure. The stuttering coward cost him every nerve.

The second training had been much more interesting, not only had Conjurer Vesche himself given his appearance and been staring as team leader of one of the two teams that had been formed to interrogate two unequal prisoners.
He, yes he himself had lead the other team and due to his great picking of the team and giving them a clear and easy enough for them to understand path to follow, his team had also beaten the Conjurer's team.

This surely was a clear sign of his superior intellect and ability to lead even under the most harsh conditions. One has to take into account what he had to deal with, his team had consisted of only Illythiiri but one ilbith.
He had made sure that as little as possible of this filth was in his team. One of them he had taken to gain favor with these primitives should the need arise to work with them, if forced by the Charnag for instance.
The other Illythiiri all had their own if limited mind so bringing them all in line was close to a masterpiece.

There would be teamleaders assigned soon and he'd surely be one of them, this he had surely consolidated in these past events. This would be important for the coming up endeavors he knew would be dangerous at large, being a leader would allow him to use his pawns at will, secure his own glory and of course survival while possibly ridding himself of some future rivals and some ilbith.

K'yon smiled at the thought of it.
K'yon Oblodra
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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The next training had concluded. Two new teams had been picked, this time by Ilbith leaders. K'yon had been picked by probably the most useful Ilbith of those in this pathetic group. Brokk the duergar had chosen him to compliment the team with his enormous intelligence and arcane prowess.

Their task had been to capture kobolds that had set up traps. What should have been an easy task turned out to be a major nuisance. Clearly the the Charnag Maelthra had helped these pathetic creatures set up some of these more delicate traps and so the feeble creatures put his team to a test, well the others at least.

Compared to the other team K'yon's, he was clearly their leader, only needed to catch one of the kobolds themselves. The other kobolds were delivered to them by a beholder.

The beast had three, for a lesser intellect surely mind boggling, riddles that posed no challenge for K'yon. He even solved an "especially difficult" riddle just to prove his supremacy even further.
In return the beholder handed the remaining kobolds to them making this whole exercises success eighty percent K'yon's once again proving his supreme ability compared to his "peers".

Another pleasant happening of the evening was the display of servitude of this dog Daugonar, while behaving like the scum that he was, he proved of some use due to understanding his position. He showed obedient to K'yon as his rank as member of one of the schools of magic imposed it onto him. A fact some of the others did not even realize dispite being much lower even compared to this scum of an Illythiiri.

The Bregan would offer him a contract, this might allow him to delve much deeper into the Underdark finding more motives for his paintings and most likely allowing him to hunt more dangerous prey for his paints that still could use some stocking up.

"Excellent" he thought.
Last edited by K'yon Oblodra on Thu May 25, 2017 12:57 am, edited 1 time in total.
K'yon Oblodra
Necromancer of the school of Necromancy
Silent seat for the school of Necromancy
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K'yon Oblodra
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Re: K'yon of the House Oblodra of Menzoberranzan

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Cycles had passed, K'yon had not been chosen as leader of the Team. The Charnag had made the mistake of letting people vote. Of course this was a poor decision popularity factored into this very important decision. The Conjurer had been chosen despite his short comings during the training and even worse as his assistant Seriso would take on the role of his support a non-faern.

This had upset K'yon as of course it would diminish his role in the upcoming struggle and so he had gone on to further his reputation through other means.

The contract with the Bregan had proven quiet useful, he had ventured into territories a faern would have otherwise had troubles moving through.
They had entered the crypt near Sshamath and having pawns fight the undead for him allowed him thorough examinations of their behavior, abilities and physique.

Down deeper in the crypt they had even encountered a rather rare specimen, a bone dragon, though vastly powerful the Bregan mercenaries proved more than able to dispatch it and in attempt to further his research on the crypt K'yon had them transport the strangely glowing pillar within the dragon's lair into the school of necromancy where he was now preparing a thorough examination.
K'yon Oblodra
Necromancer of the school of Necromancy
Silent seat for the school of Necromancy
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