Alignment: Neutral Evil
Class: Spellsword
Race: Drow
Gender: Male
Venerated Deities: None
You are a product of your environment. While this is true of all the races of Faerun, it can be no truer than it is for the drow of the Underdark. Born to that treacherous web of tunnels, the drow must become vile creatures themselves, lest they be caught in the web and devoured.
Ryltar Rik’dorl was born to this world, in the city of Maerimydra. The result of a union between a jaluk and jalil merely seeking a momentary and pleasurable escape from their dark lives, Ryltar’s beginning was typical for one of common blood. Ryltar knew no love from his procreators. Indeed, Ryltar barely knew his parents at all. Like other jaluken with no discernable talent, Ryltar was enrolled in Maerimydra’s military when he was still a boy. Though he was treated as little more than a rothe here, it beat the alternative—fending for himself, alone, on Maerimydra’s cruel streets.
The next decades of Ryltar’s life were no less typical. As he slowly aged into an adult, he gained some measure of proficiency with the blade. Of course, in Lolth possessed Maerimydra, no amount of skill would heighten his station to that of the jalilen priestesses. This fact embittered Ryltar, and no doubt many other jaluken. However, prostrating before the altars of both Lolth and Selvetarm taught him an invaluable skill—how to smile in the face of a foe.
Despite the typicality of his first century of life, the scheming so enjoyed and promoted by Lolth would ironically allow Ryltar to eventually free himself from her web. All it took was a blade through the back of one of his military fellows to earn passage on a merchant caravan making for Sshamath. Though Ryltar knew little of the murdered jaluk or his relations, he feared no repercussion as he fled to the City of Dark Weavings. There, he heard, Lolth’s spindly appendages did not reach.
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Ryltar thoroughly enjoyed his newfound freedom in the city of Sshamath. Though houses devoted to Lolth, much like the annoyingly itchy bumps left after a spider bite, could still be found in the city, their influence paled in comparison to the jaluken controlled Conclave and its Schools of magic.
Ryltar hungered for the power the Schools represented, he craved it more than anything else, and the thought of being in a position denied to him for decades possessed him. Whether it was sheer force of will, some secret of his blood long forgotten, or mere coincidence, Ryltar soon discovered that he possessed the means to spontaneously cast magic. The irony of such a fortuitous occurrence was not lost on the jaluk and once he came to enjoy some measure of control for his new-found ability, Ryltar enrolled and was admitted to the generalist School of Mages. There, he hones the Art and applies the lessons learned to the blade. It is his hope that opportunities to raise his station will continue to present themselves as he betters himself. Though should fortune not find him again, Ryltar toils every cycle to be able to seize the power he seeks.