Eowiewiel - the new birth.

[Rainbow Prism]

Eowiewiel E'lenor (Eo for friends)

Race: drow (prefers to be called Illythiiri)
Gender: female
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Age: 61
Height: On one head higher than average drow.
Weight (currently): still forbidden argument.
Occupation (currently): Bored enthusiastic scavenger.
Dream (currently): Dunno. Ask her.

Once a trainee priestess of Lolth in the Temple of Ched Nasad, now a rebel with wild manners and chaotic nature. Failed the last test of priesthood, resulting in her murdering the escort raiding drow party. For some time she lived on the surface, abandoning the House name, faith and her powers over peaceful life in the wilderness of the forests.

The meeting with a surface elf maid Istarel E'lenor, who happened to find the lone drow hideout in the forest provoked the deathmatch catfight, which ended abruptly with friendship and kinship. The previously nameless drow as the badge of acceptance from her new surface sister was called by her current name.

The meeting gave the Eowiewiel knowledge she was not given - the true tale of the Crowns War that were echoing for the centuries on Faerun and the nature of the Descent of drow. Sudden interest in the circle of the Seldarine was answered later by the gentle call on the moonlit by Selune night. In the dimness of the dusk light, the visage of the nude elven figure appeared before the astonished drow, the obsidian black skin of the vision contrasting with the long hair of silver, shimmering in resonance to the moonlight, giving off a warm white light. The meeting with the avatar was hazy in the head of the girl in the morning, like a dream that never happened. But there on the stones of the grove where Eo slept was lying the silver addorned chainmail armor and the heave broad bastard sword. Touching them made her recall the most important words that made her task : go back to the darkness to bring to the light your forgotten misled brothers and sisters, tormented by the fallen queen Araushnee, claiming herself as Lolth.

So she descended the pit of natural Abyss with her gear ready and lips whispering the gospel to the Dark Maiden Eilistraee.


\\Updated a little.

[Rainbow Prism]

The bottle was nearly touching the ground in the limp female hand, only to rise some times to gradually become empty and to be thrown away on the ground in the end and be switched by the other. This was not the best day, possibly one of the worst in her life.

In the drunk haze she was almost forgetting the day she felt powerless. Almost. The blood flowing on the ground as the river. The cries and moans of dying orcs, goblins, gnomes and drow alike. All crying, with the wish to survive, to not go in the oblivion that awaits them. And she could do nothing, lying near them, her body bleeding, powerless and too exerted to channel even slightest spark to heal at least the scratch.

The minotaur bouncer that was sitting near was frowning, but saying nothing on drunk remarks of the drow and attemts to tell her life story. She was gracious he was listening. But still, alcohol, even after drinking six full bottles of the berduskan wine, was not helping as much as she wanted. Grumbling thanks to her silent listener, she wobbled out of the tavern, then out of the town, ignoring the vile grins of the guards. She touched the small scar on her eyebrow she left after healing herself and recovering. She won't forget. She cannot forget it. The shame of being powerless. Only thing she could do was cast away the sweet poison with the spell and go on the long stroll in the battle with despair.

[Rainbow Prism]

Another vicious slash. Another falling corpse. Another howl of victory.

Eowiewiel was as spirited as ever, and not with the help of the bottles of mead. New hope burned in her heart as she ravaged through the ranks of retreating goblins, kicking one of them in the back with the last taunt, letting them run away. It was almost tenday, but she felt as if she met the spark in the dimness of the caverns only recently. There was at least one soul who prayed and pleaded to the Eilistraee for the release from her bonds. The kindred spirit will be granted her wish of freedom from the slavery. Eo will struggle till the end, pursuing her first goal to grow stronger with determination.

Still, the shade of the uneasiness fell down on her as she noticed the little shadow behind her. The female turned around to nearly swat the little bat, which to her surprise yelled sentient words, scared of the blade whistling near. A little conversation revealed the creature as the familiar. After saying their farewell, she went on on the rampaging the evil little fiendish goblins.

Later she saw the drow figure ahead, reveling in the battle. Young drow crept out to see the masculine drow, clad in spiked armor and helmet, plowing swiftly on the unfortunate humanods. Few swings and the creatures lay dead, fear in their frozen eyes. When the male turned to regard the spectator, shudder went through her spine on meeting his eyes piercing her from the shade of the lid. The female could feel the foul stench of decay filling her nostrils when he moved closer to inspect her closer. Fortunately, his interest was only slight, asking about her destination and goal in this cave. Trying to end the conversation before the necromancer - in which she was sure he was one when he transformed one of the fallen creatures in the ghoul - changed his mind, whatever was swirling in it and moved on. As she fought on, the maid could feel the hard stare in her back as he watched her beating the goblinoids. The cold questions that tried to get more information started to unnerve the girl, as she tried to run from his sight. Panting and making sure she lost the sight of the male, Eowiewiel stepped forward only to be ambushed by the goblins who crept in her wake while the female was too busy to detect them. Desperately deflecting the blows, she felt the spear tip breaching her defense, stabbing her in the side. Only growl escaped the black lips when bastard sword moved down on the head of the attacker, cutting the skull with fountain. But that moment was too expencive for her at the time, costing her with another blows, blood gashing from the wounds.

"This is the end? Like this? No. Nau! Nau...." the last thought flashed in her blurry mind when she used her last strength to make a wide horizontal chop, striking the last attackers. The vision of the gaze was darkening to be left with complete darkness. Mind descended into the loop of oblivion.

[Rainbow Prism]

There was a weak light beaming in her eyes. She opened them, surprised to see the dark weakly lit walls of obsidian and feel the cold stone under her body. 'This was no Abyss' she thought to herself. Hearing two voices, one screechy and other calm, almost gravely. She turned her head to see her adversaries she had seen before...

One was like a miniature gorgoile, bat sitting on the perch of the statue and concern showing in its beastly eyes. The other was not unforgettable. Just the stench was enough to make her remember the necromancer she met in the tunnels, this time his helmet was removed and Eo could see his face of adonic beauty, cold and incompassionate, eyes watching at her with some ... what? The female drow could not see.

Aching body told her clouded mind that it was only raised and injuries were still here on her chest. Weakly moving her hands and chanting, she discharged the healing surge enough to be sitting, as she was moments later. The male was surprised when he saw Eowiewiel heal herself. Instantly, the smile of white flashed on his face. Somehow, it felt like whatever the cause of it, this will not be very pleasant.

Later, marching in the same cave behind the ironclad warrior Ist, as he called himself, Eowiewiel was relieved that it was not as bad as she thought to herself. It seemed like a meeting with his familiar bat, Daos, saved her life from oblivion of death. The girl did not believe she was handful to her new Goddess to be taken to her plane, wherever it is. The debt of life binded the priestess to help the blackguard to collect the bodies of dead. The deal was morbid, but still, Eo felt gratitude to the Ist. And the meeting also gave more than she could think of.

[Rainbow Prism]

For a time free of patrols with Ist'aonar, Eowiewiel was sipping the mead, considering her options. Every daring plan to free the slave she met earlier was ending in not pretty picture in the end. Still, it was better than nothing for now.

All the plans were crushing against the main problem: no real knowledge about the slave collar. It was enchanted and could bring harm if was not dismantled or dismantled inproperly. That white spot was burrowing in her skull until she asked about it from the blackguard, who happened to be versed in arcane knowledge. The priestess was prepared for everything to know the facts: offer gold, allegiance, body, even turning away from the Goddess. The mind went blank when he offered one free tip and said it. A clue to unlocking the collar is finding two masters of Arcane: diviner and transmuter. A reasonable advice...But why for free? Answer was the interest of his patron Shar. He looked pretty faithful to the drowess, so she dismissed any notion of compassion. The first mark was given. All her motivation will be concentrated on it for now... Perhaps someone will be interested for a price.

[Rainbow Prism]

[OOC: Decided it will be better if now it will have a form of journal that will tell everything in details, a little of now, a little of past, all from the beginning.]

"Another day, another night... A ridiculous saying here in the Underdark.

I, Eowiewiel E'lenor, decided to keep some notes of the adventures and happenings in this @#$%^&*() hellhole, be cursed this darkness! This journal will be hidden in a safe place and warded so that no usual drow will find it or will be able to read. I will let only the independent and free male or female, drow or elf, human, gnome... Whatever, anyone who has the spark of light in his heart, if he has one.

[OOC:I dunno if I should make the journal open for people with right alignment and high spot and spellcraft skills.]

I am grateful that Sshamath is lit brightly and the shadow of Lolth is dim and wavering. Still, these priestesses of Spider Bitch are pretty annoying. Spoiled wenches, who are used to live on suffering of the other, be it free individual or slave. I despise them and their way. And myself for going on that road once.

Hehe...I think I am going pretty crazy from loneliness. Imagine, talking to the piece of paper like some mind addled idiot as if it is my only friend here. Only a good drink can give me some rest. Or a good reverie about the place above. I hope the Goddess will give me some kind of sign that my way is not one of emptiness. All I met are just crazy bitches or selfish jerks. I will keep watching the people. Perhaps, I will meet a sirrah I can trust or....... AAArgh, better get some booze, I am definitely going crazy."

[Rainbow Prism]

"Yeah, nothing better than a good drink. Still...the elven mead is the best...Though even the last bottle I had tasted not as good lately. I wonder why?...

I think I am getting it. Perhaps it was because I was drinking with 'sister'. Even though our first meeting was not really successful...No, it was horrible... She nearly killed me, defenseless and unarmed. But it went out surprisingly well. A good accident... Good thing I got my hands tied before and not behind my back. Otherwise, bandaging could be pretty neat trick. Then it all reasoned out. Her smile, laugh, conversations and songs with kegs of the mead (I wonder how she got so much of them with her?).

Yeah, that must be it! It seems loneliness gets to me. And its very boring down here. Not that kind of boring where there is nothing to do, but the one where there is nothing exciting in a good way. I need to get out of the city and get some big monster to kill. Yeah, that will do."

[Rainbow Prism]

"Another day. Now I can take on these tentacled cats (displacer beasts). Cunning felines. I soooooooooooooooo HATE them! Almost impossible to hit them and the cuts from them are really annoying! I had to retreat 14 times a day(cycle). It really took all my attention.

During one of such revenge raids, I saw them. Wizard and priestess. Yathrin. They all look alike: always arrogant, command men at every turn and whip their weapons at every turn, bursting the curses out of their maws. Nothing irregular about how she got him as her toy. He did not complained. I think he did that to piss her off. There was something strange about how she looked at him...

I came back after another regrouping (yeah, right). Was pretty angry, almost broke my sword against the stalagmite. My head cleared enough to think of getting the throat filled with some booze, when the same male was here with a smile and bottle of firewine. He really got me about that. We got into conversation, which went out by itself. I found out he rejected the offer of companionship from the Viera, as he called her. The name of the wizard was Kilrahel Aleurden, he was young and was averagely handsome. Then it got ugly when the same priestess came back. I was pretty drunk and so I cannot remember where it went. I remember that I was out in the caves with Kil, and suddenly someone appeared behind to slash him and cut off his finger. I could not react. Fortunately he got away. I was alone with the female assassin, the crazy smile appearing on her face...

I awakened at the cold floor of the cave, all body cut and stabbed. Some cats appeared to get the free feast. I gripped the hilt. That they did not get..."

[Rainbow Prism]

"Another turn, another cave. More caves...Hey, what's this? Cave again!

It gets pretty morbid. It seems the caverns are my home no more. I feel yearning back to the moonlight, to the lush green of the trees. I almost want to cry out because of my madness. Nope, I did once, in the caverns. It was pretty relieving. Got few cats on my back. Cutting off their tentacles and gutting them really took me back in shape.

Still that was nothing compared to meeting some strangers on the territory of local goblins. No more strangers now. Genasi with flaming hair and half-drow. There was also someone (cannot remember rightly). The genasi was a priest - oh, goddess, how it was good to meet someone else aside from Lolthites, no matter who he follows - and the half-drow had sneaky appearance. Both looked at me without any trust. Figures, considering I was wearing armor with spiders to look like local priestess.

Note to myself: Get myself spare light dress.

Still, I answered on their glares with warm smile. It was difficult with their weapons pointed at me, but loneliness got to me that time. They were a little confused, but put down their weapons. I decided to help them on their endeavor. They were assaulting these goblins, looting their loot from someone else. I thought so because of the nearest rotten bodies littering the interior of the caves. And heads on pikes. There was no mercy when I swung my blade…

Next moment I was at the temple of Lolth. An irony. Every time you have grievous wounds you get to the temple of Lolth, which feels like two step back after one ahead. I would prefer the company of the Vhaerunites in Darkwoods. Getting all we have at the moment, I guess. But I was brought by my new companions. They did not abandon me. And there was another drow.
Yiiiiiiiiii!!! He was soooo dreamy! And so gallant! Just my type! And also…”

Following entries are nothing but babbling which suits more to the teenager in love on first sight. These scripts are also accompanied by some doodles depicting a portrait of rather handsome drow male.

[Rainbow Prism]

“I finally got used to the cycles of the fires. With them I started to orient on the surface time to get the rites of my faith done. One of the hardest things to do in the list was to find a site for the rituals. I practiced them, but it was pretty hard without symbols and only the blade, touched with blessings. After few tries, I finally made my first Sword dance correctly. Maybe it is my imagination, but it got pretty shiny and even some dents disappeared. But in the end I got pretty weak. With all my blood I foolishly spilled during these tries, vision was like in the room in the boulder, which was rolling down the chasm. First thing I did was entering reverie when I got back to my room in the inn.

My new friends, genasi Sparky Torchy Kelis Sigurd, and half-drow warrior Xilo, were pretty reliable. One of the reasons was perhaps that Sparky Kelis was surfacer. I am not sure, but he said he was somehow teleported from his home and he is desperately searching for exit. And he hates local clergy. It took some time to persuade them that I mean no harm, but without blowing my cover. I could not help but be a little paranoid, considering my circumstances. My healing was helping out a little, so I heard no complaints.

Once I met Xilo in the caves wounded seriously. When my healing spells mended his wounds, his eyes widened in shock. I could care less about it that time. All I could think of was that he needed help. When the rush hour went away, he doubted my claims about being Yathrin of Lolth. I wish I could trust him and tell part of the truth like I said to Sparky Kelis. If I took attention to that and did not lie, I think it would go differently.

The other day I was at the fest hall Gloura's Wings. Here was a familiar face. Kilrahel, his hand with cut off finger bandaged. It seemed he was not really discouraged by his loss because of his brilliant idea to use his arcane transformation to regenerate his limb. I could not help but feel guilty about not helping him when he was in danger. If only I could have enough courage...

I met Xilo again in the city of Sshamath in the Gloura’s Wings fest hall on the entrance. This time he was barely standing, blood dripping on the floor. First thing I did was channel positive energy to recover his wounds. In few moments, his life was past danger. After a few breathers and more amazed gazes from him, Xilo asked me to come with me to talk about something. My eyes caught the fact he was very nervous and uptight, but I gave a wrong meaning to that. When we went from the gates at the Varalla’s Passage in the direction of the side caves to the south, I felt something fishy about it. It was too late. In a few moments he took initiative and disarmed me, his hand clutching my throat and nasty looking dagger coming closer. This was no good...”


[OOC: I am sorry, people if I somehow messed up the time of appearance of your PC's...err, toons. If you want to add something from the perspective of your character, then go out with a bang.]

[Rainbow Prism]

"Of course the fact I left that notice in the journal means I survived it. How it happened?

I am pretty embarrassed to write about it. If to forget the knife, intimidation, limb shooting with crossbow and near death, the last part was romantic. When Xilo went to sleep, I was lying near him for a moment, thinking. What do I do?

If I was in some other city, I think I would be in the chains, tortured, enslaved or worse. What do I do? Was there a point in my coming here? Maybe the visage I saw was a trick of Lolth to lead me to demise?

No! No way. I could feel it. That day. I could not remember the vision...Only warmth unlike any I ever felt.

[The page was stained with some kind liquid, making ink notices incomprehensible. Few words could be found, saying that it was the most beautiful thing she ever saw.]

After thinking, I left the camp, strapping my gear. As the last thing, I left a kiss on his cheek and a ring with my old House insignia. I wished him well and left with much thoughts in head.

[Rainbow Prism]

“Whatever I have to do here, I give the meaning to my actions and choose the goals to complete. And this time I choose to fight for the safety of my companions. That’s what I decided. I swear to not let down anybody who has hopes on my assistance.

That was what I thinking when Xilo met me again. A few dreamy visions of romantic stroll around the caves, ignited by faerie fire and luminescent mushrooms, waterfall streaming with glistening drops playing in the play of shadows, a lively conversation ending with a deep gentle kiss, and then…

*following scriptures are not recommended for the immature readers. So it will be skipped…*

…These dreams almost made feel like in heaven…Until he got out the knife again. That same blade that nicked me many times on my neck with risk of death. In the darkness of the gloomy cavern, sound of bats and big vermin rattling in the corners, his face watching at me silently, his hands grabbing me for a forced kiss. Complete opposite of my scenario. That was going crazy. Head was pumped up, various feelings craving to crush his skull for breaking my innocent maiden heart. Mostly rage. How dare he, HE, spider bedding dirt crawling paranoid hysteric son of orc banshee! I broke away from the grasp, punching him in the jaw, imagining striking at the laughing bloated spider with female head. Judging by the way he tumbled away in the wall, it really helped. With all the red cloud in my eyes, of which I was sure that my eyes were bloody crimson, it was hard to get my hand away from temptation to stab his smug face. Good thing I did. In reply my ears were ringing from a squall of the accusation of trickery and lies. At that time I could only give him a warning and walk away. I did not consider the thing that he could never know another way. Was wolf at fault for acting naturally? If only I could meet him again and teach him…To show him the right path, away from his life full of gore and misery. I met him only once, when he gave his apologies for the rudeness from his side. How could I not forget that? We smiled to each other. That was our last meeting. Where are you, Xilo? I wish I could mend your heart so that you could forget your hardships and bravely move on forward without heavy memories of the past crushing on his shoulders. Perhaps he could notice the shimmer of the Dancing Goddess, watching at his soul.

So I was running around, deep in thoughts how I could affect the people around me. Do they want to change? Or I am fighting futile war? Oh, Eilistraee, give me your wisdom to comprehend the world around me, my home which is not my home anymore.

The familiar face crackled from eternal fire of his spirit (in both direct and vague sense) grinned at me when Torchy Sparky noticed me. There was some other person, sneaky looking drow male, smirking at me like some kind of freaky pervert. So happened they had a deal ready for me. Or more like enlisting. Some rumors about battle for the fate of Bregan D’aerthe. To be honest, I could spit on the gang of mangy cowardly backstabbing servants of the Arausnee. But this was something different. Lolthites ganging up on the matronless House? Something was fishy about this branch. And I owed Sparky Kelis enough to help him in this. Still, I should have asked earlier if he was one of the guild.

Whatever. No matter how evil these bastards can be, but they are more preferable in comparison. I hope I won’t stain the honor of my benefactor by being dragged in this senseless melee.”

[Rainbow Prism]

*The following scriptures are rather crude, the letters looking like they are drawn by some half-learned orc kin*

“WuzzaH.

Wha thE hEl?! Wha the PoiN in what I m doing! I cHangEd nothIng! Hell riGht… CursE you, self-centRed BeBlit arsekissers…”

*After few pages reeking of alcohol where was written similar blubber, comes clearer writing. Some of the words were smudged by the drops of some liquid without any scent*

“Why such torture was given to me? To see and hear everyt***g without any power to help the dying. Why? Is it my pu**nishment for my past? I made many mistakes in my life as Yathrin. I truly repented for them in the ***ght of the moon. Was that not enough? Why, then? WHY? Answer me! Why you should take **ves to teach me of my powerlessness? Why them? Take my soul, sac***ice me at the altar, drain me from my power… Give it back…Please… I w*** to forget…Dark Maiden…Take your divine powers away **** my body…I…am not worthy…”

*there is more written, but the script was smudged by the tears to the point of making it undecipherable*

[Rainbow Prism]

“That is unacceptable. I should stop drinking to try to forget the past. To be honest, it worked only for a day or so, just as Istarel warned me. ‘Wine is not the best sea to sink ghost ship of memories’, she said. ‘It is created for clearing your mind and enjoying every day of your life to the fullest. But otherwise, it can prolong the self torture of guilt.’ Now the wisdom of that seemingly senseless phrase is clear - in light of the fact that it was told after she gulped down whole keg of the mead.
Also I cannot waste my time in self pity over the fight without any chance of victory. It was a complete massacre. The winning of the so called ‘Varalla’s Passage incident’ was impossible. Either way, my participation was not unaffecting. Who knows? Maybe mending few scratches of one warrior saved the lives of dozen comrades he fought with? Or…Anyway, from now on, I will be drunk only when I want it and enjoy it in the circle of friends. Now that it was mentioned, I rarely see one of them these days. Always running around in efforts to restore the lost glory of the Bregan. Or so it was said. Who cares? They are alive, and that is my relieve.
No sign of Xilo.
I grew closer to the young acolyte of the Mage School, Kilrahel Aleurden. He seems honest and he is always open on any subject, not afraid of voicing his opinion on the matter. A rare individual, especially for wizard. We survived together the troubles of the enraged monsters, ambushes of the goblin war parties, revenge of the miconoyds (My nose is still itchy). And I have spark of hope and a beacon of light on my road. Eilistraee, I will not fail you.”

[Rainbow Prism]

“Yikes. Necromancers are creepy. That fella, Ist’aonar, really chills the atmosphere … and pollutes it actively by the foul stench of decay on his robe. And his summoning of the ghasts. That cloud around it is unbearable. And he looks like he enjoys it, inhaling these deadly vapors of rotting. I kinda feel it would be better if I was raised by some other wizard from different school to be in his debt.

Still, I am pretty gracious to him that he decided to raise me instead of selling my body to the School of Necromancy to reach his quota. It seems my luck turned out to be great to meet his bat familiar before dying...Daos, I think was the name? Yes, that’s right, Daos. If my comment about goblins did not sound funny to him...Oh, I praise you for not letting me lose my sharp tongue, Lady of the Dance!

Behind the dark spiked armor of death knight and that ghastly helm was hiding a beautiful face of drow male youth, perhaps we even were of one age. He said he returned me to life because he decided that I will be useful, but his face was surprised to see that I can use clerical spells before that claim. Was that his real goal? Or Daos really annoyed him with his screeching voices of plea? In that I cannot be sure. But he risked his life and position to take me away from the coffins of the tombs. So maybe...

So I was stuck with him to help him on his corpse snatching patrols with healing and blessings. I soooooo hated that bag of bones with that green puffing cloud he creates from the corpses! (Note to self: should give Ist a shampoo and soap as present) It looked pretty scary, and he snarled at me with his ugly sharp toothed maw a few times. I think it could feel the goodly divine aura of the Lady. That was quite good to know she is with me, but in these circumstances all I was thinking about was how to destroy that abomination without offending his current master. Must say he was very strong – not only he was gifted sorcerer, also he easily could cut in pieces the poor goblins which happened to stand in his way. His style was pretty brutal and efficient, his every swing bringing death to the creatures. This was pretty terrifying. I was trying to specialize in swordsmanship, but this was different. Never had I have any intention to fight with such mortal precision, without any feelings and emotions. Like the undead he walks with. And what’s with that attitude? “I did not ask for healing”?! What the in the name of the dancing faeries he took me with him for then?! And his “Shar darkness this, darkness that” had enough beating on my psychics.

And that corpse hunt... I feel so guilty about it. I have no doubts if there was somebody dying, somebody who needed help with healing, Ist’aonar would easily end his life to get his share of dirty lucre from the dead body. Yet...to my relief, there were no such cases. Finally, our grim scavenging patrols have come to the end for this cycle. I saw yet another morbid face of the Sshamath’s reality. I so wish to see the light of the surface...”