Waerloga the Blood Witch (with Template)

[tooley1chris]

First Name: Waerloga
Last Name: fahliell
Appearance: Commonly dressed in black leathers with a dark cloak. Waerloga is quite plain for an elf. Neither attractive or ugly. She has pale grey skin and many peircings in lips, nose, and ears. Most times she will have dried blood pasted to her forehead, cheeks, and other exposed skin.
Race: Half Drow
Age:20
Height: 5' 3" Weight: 100 lb. Eyes: violet Hair: dark hair with streaks of white.

Personality Profile: Waerloga was raised among the lost Drow tribe of Kanahraun and has their same barbaric philosophies such as women Drow are to be respected and the weak are only sustanance for the strong. She was however little more than a slave among them and has a deep sense of respect toward all full blooded Drow out of fear.
General Health: Being a half blood, she's a bit more muscular than most Drow but not not too noticeably so. Deity:
Initial Alignment: evil
Profession: Treasure hunting seems to bring Waerloga the most coin but is not against taking odd jobs for pay.
Base Class & Proposed Development: warlock
Habits/Hobbies: She can sometimes be seen cutting meat from her humanoid prey. She will claim that these are trophies.
Languages: Drow, Common, Orcses, Elf
Weapon of Choice: she carries a long thin knife but never uses it in combat.
Aspirations:Waerloga has inherited her pact, with the infernal, from her mother, and while she is no pure spirit she longs to escape this demons hold on her. She has heard stories of how when the Drow fled the surface originally their gods failed to hear their prayers and they had to rely on the new gods of the deep places. Now her intention is to get to the surface in hopes that the spawn that holds her in contract will not reach her under the sun when she escapes away from the dark holes she'd called home. Of course she has embraced her new abilities and hopes that they will not fade once in the light of day. Her life of slavery is over. She would rule when she comes into her own, or grind those who oppose her into the dust.
Plot Hook Possibilities: She is bound to the demon god Azzanoth under contract so any number of duties could be pushed upon her from his demonic minions. Jobs that the infernal don't wish to be directly involved with. Any information on what she can expect to see on the surface is also of value to her so lore quests could work. She was raised to hate surface elves because of The Great Betrayal and would seek to do them harm if she had the chance so hunting scout parties from the surface would work. She is gathering scrolls to further her own lore on magic as such power seems to elevate people among the Drow. Waerloga is in awe of a druid she encountered in the dark and wants to learn to alter her shape, or polymorph as well but is unwilling to bind herself to any other being or god to gain that power so lore on warlocks Devil form or Hell Hound form are of interest as well.
Background:

Vlos Wyr
Chapter One Royal House Devoren

G'eldriia A'Daragon was only a minor priestess in learning to the Dark Mother, wife to a Water Faern of the Noble house Devoren. Her entire life was on the move. The nomadic house traveled the underdeep tradeways from settlement to city to metropolis trading goods with Drow, Grey Dwarves, Gnomes, and whom ever had goods for sale or barter. Slaves were a part of their merchandise. From the filthy goblinoids to the more popular halfblood Drow, labor was in demand.
G'eldriia had been, as of yet, unable to conceive the much sought after child her husband desired. Even given a Drow jalils limited times of fertility her husbands attempts were
Numerous and vigorous enough to have been fruitful many times over.
A fact that her jealous sister seemed all too ready to remind her every day.
G'eldriias house nor her husbands standing therein were elevated, yet her sister was without a spouse and had eyes for him none the less.
So it was great surprise when she approached G'eldriia with news that her husband had been having intercourse with other members of the house, and some quite regularly. But none had become with child either. She told G'eldriia that if she was to bare him children perhaps she would look to another jaluk as well. This seemed good to G'eldriia and her sister set a meeting with a warrior in the city of Sheoloth on their next cycle through that area of the underdeep.
G'eldriia procured elixers from priestesses of the temple in that city that would aid in conception and went to her secret rendevous with her sister and champion. He was a lean, muscular Drow. Very chiseled and handsome. Her sister had chosen well.
G'eldriia made ready and almost forgot the potion she had brought, in her eagerness to mate with this jaluk, but her sister was quick to retrieve the small bottle for her and made sure she finish it all.
He mounted her hard and feverishly and she responded in kind.
Then her body numbed and her vision became cloudy before she knew no more.
When she awoke the warrior had gone and her sister was wiping her forehead with a damp silk cloth.

Chapter Two
G'eldriia quickly found herself with child though she barely remembered the intercourse and had worried if it had even happened despite her sisters assurance that the warrior swore he had come to completion, and was more than a bit put off that she would fall asleep in the process. The tonic given by the temple must have had a strange side effect. But in the following months she was round with child and her husband poured his love on her as when they were newly paired. All was bliss. They travelled town to town still and he lavished G'eldriia with gifts and affection.
The day of joy had arrived and many gathered to witness the event. A new Drow being born was a momentous and important occasion. Children were necessary to not only continue the family line but to repopulate the race and grow its strength.
The labor was easy as it is for most Drow. The smiling faces around her bed as she held her husbands hand seemed to light the dark room. A priestess knelt by her feet as the babe finally came forth. A collective gasp went through those gathered. The priestess held the bloody babe, but hers was a look of horror. She did not wrap the babe in the fine silk that was ready nor give a blessing but rather harshly thrust the babe into G'eldriias arms and stormed out of the room. G'eldriia was enraged but quickly drew the baby up to her and into better light. It's light ashen skin and dark hair quickly resolved her questions about the altered mood of the room. The new baby girl in her arms was only half Drow.

Chapter 3 Banished

It had been a week since G'eldriia was banished from the nomadic house Deveron. The same argument kept circling in her mind. She admitted to her husband of being with another Drow, but that he was a prime Drow specimen, no half breed. That she only did it to bare him a child, to make him happy. Her sister even backed up the story crying how unfair such a thing could happen. But he was devistated. Though he kept a cool face and demeanor she could see it in his eyes. A noble woman giving birth to a half blood was intolerable in Drow society and he was especially prejudiced against it as he traded in stock that his only daughter now belonged to. G'eldriia feared for her life in those first days. He was justified in her murder and none would question it. Indeed most might encourage such action. But he loved her still and instead stripped her of all title, name, holdings, and his house. She was bereft. Set upon the trade ways with only rags, a long dagger, and a small bag of food for her and the new baby. Miserable she clashed against this judgement to no avail. She loved her husband but he would not hear her.

Chapter 4 Betrayal
Eventually G'eldriia made her way back to Sheoloth city. She would find her Drow champion and have questions answered. She would then slit his throat or die in the attempt.
Sheoloth was a large city with thousands of Drow and hundreds of other races. Her first stop was the temple of the Dark Queen, but they would not see her. Seems her nurse maid priestess had sent word that G'eldriia was to be excommunicated. It took weeks of scrounging for food for her and her baby before she finally found her Drow lover. He was returning from a patrol and slipped into a wine house. She followed. She watched from the dark corner as he paid for a room with a bath and some wench to wash away his labors.
G'eldriia waited a few moments after he went into the room and listened by the door. Finally she heard the water ripple as he entered the tub. She grabbed a hand full of silk towels and entered the room. He made light conversation as she pretended to place the towels on the shelf behind him and she slid her dagger under his chin. He was questioned and he had answers. A story of how G'eldriias sister had hired him to fake conception. To merely await the poison she had slipped into G'eldriias fertility tonic to put her in slumber. How then several half blood slaves had ravaged her body while she slept, again and again. How she was lucky it wasn't the goblinoid slaves as her sister had made jest of allowing. And also how the bathing Drow would never see G'eldriia again because surely her husband would end her life after such a foul betrayal.
Then the baby strapped to her back woke and cried out and the (germbag) who was supposed to be bathing the dark warrior entered the room and screamed. G'eldriia accidentally dropped the knife in the tub and pushed her against the wall as she fled from the room, into the hall and out the door into the bazaar where several priestessess were semi circled around the entrance. G'eldriia was all at once silenced, deafened, and paralysed by their divine magics in ambush. It was all she could do to land on her chest protecting her daughter strapped to her back from the fall.

Chapter 5 Mushrooms and Meat.
G'eldriia deafness wore off soon enough to hear the preistesses, her sisters in a past life, talking amongst themselves as her warrior lover claimed she had tried to murder him and demand his justice against her. It seemed they were reluctant to kill a former priestess and her child outright. Much debating left them agreed that the fungus pit would be their prison and if the deep gods would claim G'eldriia then they were welcome. Many drow cities had such pits or fields. A place to throw the dead who were without title, position, or name. Food for the mushrooms was her fate, rewards a dead slave might recieve. Still magically paralysed, she could do nothing as she and her daughter were placed in the basket and lowered into the dark cavern below. If nothing else lived there to cause harm then they would dehidrate and become nutrients for the fungus that helped feed the city.
The babe cried and she slowly regained use of her body. She prayed to the Dark Queen and then to the other underdeep gods for release, but all was silent. Her soul despaired. The fungus here was far too small to eat and only acted as roots to the larger mushrooms above well out of reach. Refuse and the dead fed these roots.
All Drow are cast from their mothers boosom in early years to fend for themselves. This makes for stronger Drow and teaches them to survive in harsh conditions. But with a hungry baby attempting to suckle empty breast, they would both starve. Then she noticed an elderly Drow who was earlier discarded into the pit. She removed his silk robe and wrapped the babe in it. Around the dead woman's thigh was a silver belt with a small knife in a leather sheath. More of a child's toy than a weapon but it would do the job she had resigned herself to. First she would slit the babes wrist then her own. Death was inevitable and she would have it on her terms, not by starvation. She held the babe then looked again to the grey dead body of the old woman. She cried. She could not kill her daughter nor could she end her own life and leave the babe to die crying in this filth. She looked again to the old woman and sitting her babe down she rolled the corpse over and sliced a chunk of meat from the fleshy, black buttocks and ate it. She gagged on every mouthful but continued to consume the fatty tissue.
She must have swooned from exhaustion but when she woke the babe was suckling her now ripe and full breast. They could eat, they could survive in this waste, but what life would this be? The dark cavern stretched far and wide but no exit could be seen amongst its fuzzy walls. Despair gripped her again and she cried out to every god who's name she had ever heard.
It was in that hour that a demon answered.
It was a boney, horned spawn in female form. She was beautiful and horrible to behold with ivory skin and many protrusions sticking from her like thorns. Her dark feathered wings tucked behind and what used to be a tail was there also. She said she was an emmisary to Azzanoth. A name G'eldriia did not know. But this demon claimed that its master once saved a whole tribe of lost Drow from oblivion who fed on the flesh of others, and that he would do the same for her and her babe. For a price.

Chapter 6 Vlas C'nros
Waerloga was raised among the lost tribe of Kanahraun. A Drow people who had fled the surface after the great betrayal of the surface elves had locked them in the deep places of the darkness below. They had little contact with others and those who knew of the Kanahraun were soon regretting they had. Their god was a creature called Azzanoth and worship was exclusive. Her mother, G'eldriia, was titled Vlas C'nros by the tribe and was joined with the only man Waerloga could call father, Chaszmyr Dhalmass. He was a warrior of their tribe and son to a tribal elder. Waerloga however had no claim to the rich life they lived in the black stoned city. She was a half-blood and even in this forgotten tribe of Drow, this meant outcast. She was little better than a slave and in this new setting even her mothers love faded over the years.
Vlas C'nros was the blood witch of
Azzanoth, delivered to the Kanahraun peoples by his avatar and she was revered among them. Waerloga barely saw her mother but to wash her silks or clean some mess. But more than not, it was to be berated, punished, or beaten for something another did and blamed her for. Before she was thirteen she was set free by her parents and expected to live by her own means. The rough life of a slave taught not to rely on others and she fared well enough as a servant girl to her families mercenaries. These rough barbarians were the hunters of the tribe. They patrolled the tunnels of the deeps looking for sentient beings fool enough to be taken prisoner. These would be made slaves, while they were useful. And when that usefulness ended they were invited to a feast. The Kanahraun were cannibles and while they would dine on any humanoid, elf was best on the plate and tongue. It was the price that Azzonoth put on these Drow in exchange for their lives many years ago. To find sustanance in their own kind. They had lived like this for thousands of years now and it was less an abomination to them as a way of life. Thankfully Waerloga was either found useful enough or forbidden to eat herself. Perhaps a small token of love from her mother though she doubted it and hated her none the less. It was the same resentment all Drow childen felt for their parents in the teen years when they were cast aside to survive or die by their own hands. But these children who did survive would be a welcome part of their families still. Waerloga was shunned. Where the love she remembered getting from her mother used to reside, was now a fierce anger.
Time went on and she lived in the cruelty of her people, learning all she could of respect out of fear of the lash. She would march behind the warriors on patrol to carry supplies and water on longer journies into the underdeep.
One such journy found her mother leading the band, and though she was surprised the Blood Witch would lead, she doubted G'eldriia even knew her daughter was among them. The journey took the group of twenty four days of travel through the tunnels and caverns before G'eldriia let Waerloga know she was aware of her. On this night she chose to tell her of her history, all that had transpired from Waerlogas conception to now. And now G'eldriias former husband was enroute to another city with a precious artifact for a great transaction. One where he will pay a price he is yet unaware of. Waerloga now saw that but for dumb fortune and the intervention of a hell spawn she and her mother were both outcasts and not wanted. Her mother found salvation through a contract with the abyss and she left Waerloga to rot in her own misrable loneliness while G'eldriia found greatness. She hated her all the more but showed great respect through clenched teeth.

Chapter Seven Damnation and Revenge
Another few hours found the Kanahraun war party and their leader Vlos C'nos, Waerlogas mother, setting another camp. Just a short march away was where the ambush would take place. G'eldriia held aloft a bejeweld sceptre that she evidently thought held great power and rallied the Drow with inspiring words of victory. Ordered to stay behind with two other slaves, Waerloga soon found herself too curious to wait and found herself sneaking down the tunnels after them. A great light filled the tunnel ahead as if some fool summoned a fireball in the tight space. A rush of hot air blew her hair back as she crept forward. Sceams echoed off the walls. The sound of metal clanging metal rung like chimes. The tunnel opened into a much larger cavern and there was G'eldriia amidst the fray wreathed in unholy fire that would cook any who dared touch her. The smell of brimstone and sweat hung heavy in the air as her mother unleashed a ray of fire that seemed to envelope any in its path. Drow struck Drow and the barbarians of her own tribe seemed outmatched by the armor wearing Drow warriors of their enemy. Then another bout of flame would roast that steel plate and arc in a chain to burn two or three others. If not for this flame that G'eldriia possessed the fight may have been over already with heavy losses. Then a black spherical void swept through the pushing barbaric shield of the Kanahraun tribe and several seemed to dissappear into its nothingess as if swallowed by a great invisible mouth. Slowly this orb moved through the ranks toward G'eldriia eating all in its path, house Deveron warrior and barbarian alike. G'eldriia seemed ready for this and even smiled as she drew forth the sceptre. Pointing it at the orb she seemed to take control of its movements. The ball of disintigration changed course and rolled over the Deveron knights leaving nothing but choked off screams and frantic Drow tumbling over each other in a vain attempt to escape. On and on it rolled. Every second seemed to mean the end of yet another Deveron fighter. The blood witch cackled with glee but then faultered as several glowing missles unerringly flew across the cavern striking her in the chest. She stumbled with the impact throwing her prized sceptre high into the air and across the room to clatter only a few feet from where Waerloga hid. The black sphere of annilation turned off of one murderous path onto another and more Kanahraun barbarians were lost to its inky blackness on its new route towards G'eldriia. Waerloga stepped from the shadows and snatched up the control rod. G'eldriia saw this and laughed aloud shooting her hellfires again at the remaining Deveron soldiers. She screamed for Waerloga to throw her the sceptre and the half Drow very nearly did out of obedience but, after a short pause, instead turned her aim toward the sphere and threw. G'eldriia screamed as did another male from high above. Undoubtfully the one now controlling the orbs movements. The sphere absorbed the sceptre and started shaking violently. Small arcs of power streaming over its surface. G'eldriia called aloud for
Azzanoth to aid her and in a blast of brimstone a horned devil answered her call in time for the sphere to explode in a massive shockwave that sent Waerloga tumbling back down the tunnel she was hiding in prior.

Chapter Eight Inheritance
Waerloga awoke choking on dust, smoke, and sulfer. She did not know how long she was unconscious but she spat chunks of soot from her acheing lungs and gasped for fresher air that was in short supply. She reached for the cave walls to pull herself to her feet and a warm, boney hand grasped hers in aid. Terrified Waerloga stumbled back throwing the helping hand away and choking from taking in sudden dirty air again. A gravely yet female laugh mocked her pain. "A hundred souls, child."
Waerloga steadied herself again.
"This is what your master Azzanoth demands for taking the life of his witch."
"I no longer have a master." Waerloga spat. "I have no family, no people. I have nothing."
"Your mothers promises are now your own child." Laughter again. "Yours and her life were once spared under contract and oath. You will now redeem this debt to its completion. 100 souls for what you have taken and have become."
"I am nothing. Of less worth even now. " Coughing gain. "I have nowhere to go. I'm just as likely to die by the hands of my own kind than any other. Leave me to die or kill me now."
A sharp hiss. "I dare not take what Azzanoth desires for his own. You are Vlos Wyr, waerloga. You are his blood witch and you will spill blood in his name. Even Myrkul and all the hells cannot keep you from this purpose. If you die or take your own life you will feel the pain and lose some of yourself in the effort but you're name will not be found in the great tomes of the dead while your debt remains unsatisfied. 100 souls."
"To the abyss with you." Waerloga whispered even now feeling a power building up inside her that longed to be set free.
"I will come to you when you are ready. When you've the power to call me, as your mother did. When you have the desire to see me, you will call."
"I will not." Waerloga coughed but the devil was gone.

Chapter Nine Sshamath
Waerloga dug through the carnage of the blackened cave taking anything of value she could find. Some coins, gems, jewelry, a broach, earrings. Most everything was claimed by the fires or destroyed utterly by the explosion from the sphere, which was now gone. She cut a great deal of cooked meat from her barbaric people as she felt they should be consumed rather than left to rot. It was their way. The weak feed the strong. She slung several packs of water over her shoulder and climbed from the wreckage. The Devoren caravan had been heading to a city with their great artifact and she would head there now. Two days journey and she found a cave in revealing a great mushroom field. She made her way through this avoiding some large cave beetles, and into a long tunnel lined with phosphorescent fungus. There was a Drow here at a fork in the tunnel who offered to pay her if she went back into the field and killed the beetles, but she refused, for now. He pointed her to the gate to the city and she approached two guards talking about runaway slaves so she avoided talking with them. Down a large spiral walk and she could smell the stagnant air of a city. Magic lights lit tall towers and a bustling metropolis below. She found a buyer for her ill gotten goods in a tavern called The Gloura's Wings. Was a strange place for peoples to sell weapons and such but they didn't ask any questions and though they only paid a mere 800 copper for her treasures it gave her an even thousand. She bought some smaller gems with the coin to lighten her load. A bath, some new clothes were purchased, and a room to sleep the weariness off of her.
"Now time to find some work." She said to herself and headed out.

[Passiflora]

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