Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Rumors of a strike force comprised of surfacer scum are swirling around Sshamath after dozens of drow were found slaughtered in Varalla's Passage. Eye witness reports place a group of no less than 6 near the scene of the battle, including a green faced, halfbreed of a rock-man, and a female mage.



Concerned drow fear this was simply a scout team that is testing Sshamath's defenses. Talk of a full scale invasion of rivvil scum fills the inns and great houses.



The most recent atrocities committed by these brazen fools comes on the heels of ever more reports of surfacer activity in the Underdark. A member of a local mercenary guild reports that he was left for dead by a group of surfacers in the Stonespear Caverns, but the beating left his brain scrambled and he could provide no further details.



Speaking out too loudly against the conclave is inadvisable with the Charnag Maelthra prowling the city, but whispers of discontent can be heard. . .if one listens in the right areas of the city. Perhaps relying on the arcane to keep the city safe is a grave mistake? One rememdied, perhaps, by a resurgence of the natural order of things and the return of the Spider Queen to prominence. . .

Sut'rinos Cel'lith Morcane sat in his office of the newly formed Charnag Maelthra, burrowed deep in the bowels of a non-descript stalagtite structure hanging over northern Sshamath. The building had once belonged to a Sshamathian quellar, one that had ceased to exist a few centuries ago when the Conclave had discovered it's patron secretly worshipping Ghaunadaur, now it housed the Charnag Maelthra, the Conclave's political police. Cel'lith's suite of rooms looked out over the great spire that rose from the floor of the main cavern to the only public exit from the city, Varalla's passage. Staring out over the city at the site of the recent attack he massaged his temples, the pressure was getting to him.

Rivvil, they stank, they were unpredictable, they multiplied like rabbits and they were showing up in Sshamath with more and more regularity. Just the other ten-day he had been confronted by an insane darthiir stalking the streets of Sshamath with her summons in tow. He'd rather forget about that particular encounter but his anger would naut let him. He had searched for her himself, venturing up onto the surface more than once in an effort to locate her. He had sent assassin's after her, ones that should be more than capable enough to deal with her. Nothing had resulted, he was beginning to wonder if his minions were purposefully inept.

And now this, an attack on the guards in Varalla's passage by a group of kivvil. He would have to setup a quick reactionary force at the foot of the spire and a regular patrol of scouts further out in the tunnels to provide enough warning to mobilize the reactionary force. The Sshamathian guard were capable enough but they were hardly of the calibre of the Charnag Maelthra. The tunnel scouts would be Charnag operatives.

He looked over to the imp flapping in the corner of the room, staring vacantly at it's reflection in a polished brass mirror. "Zek! Wake up! Fetch Izz'orgoll, you'll likely find him in the detention cells playing with that darthiir he found wandering the darkspires".

A pair of city guards stroll into Gloura's Wings for a nice highmoon dark beer after a long shift, and in the back of the pub is Moujin, with his feet up on the table, cards in hand, watching and listening. They begin to speak of the incident within Varalla's Passage, which the inconspicuos drow in the back was very much interested in, so down his feet went to the floor and he leaned in his seat for a better listen.

"..Blood was all over the passage, damn rivvil, I know a guy that had to clean up that damn mess!" says one guard to the other.

"The surfacers are bold enough to come so close to the city and cause trouble, but do you think they are stupid enough to actually venture into the city?" the other gurd ponders the question and then laughs aloud.

"HA! They won't even survive within the tunnels now! Too many drow worried about their buisness to let any surfacer muck it up!"

The silent drow listening to the two, now relaxed in his chair, ponders their words and nods. He arises from his seat makes for the door, only to return a few hours later with a parchment in hand, which he then promptly pins to the notice board. The notice reads....


Signed, Moujin.

// just lookin for low lvl UD charaters to hang around with, what better excuse! umm lvls could be like 1-10. I am lvl 4 myself.

Bregan D'arthe

We offer our services in patrolling the surrounding areas of Sshamath and defending the city at times of need

Lorath.

Go rothe and deliver this messege to the Conclave and Charnag Maelthra

B’hindar stood silently by the bar, he was now all alone in the world. It had only been a ten-day ago that he his mentor, master and father had began his training into adulthood. He was to become a strong warrior like him, another guard for the ranks. But now…? Now that was gone! His master had fallen in combat in Varalla’s Passage leaving him alone and unguided. B’hindar had always known that this day would come but it was his place to slay his father, not that of a filthy sufacer scum. For how would his father know that he had surpassed him if he did or could not defeat him in battle? It was his destiny to kill his own father, a pride of place, a noble and honourable death. His right of passage!

The glass began to crack in his clenched fist as the hatred swelled deep within him. He vowed that he would avenge his fallen master and take that, which had been taken from him. He slowly released his grip on the glass, now leaking a clear alcoholic fluid, and fished in his sack for his fathers goblet. He had found this on the body of his fathers corpse; now stained in dried blood he poured what contents was left in the glass into the goblet. Raising the goblet in an outstretched arm B’hindar spoke aloud “I will drink the blood of my enemies from this goblet in remembrance to him!” He knocks back the entire content of the goblet and wipe his mouth clean with his sleeve. “And when I drink the blood of those who killed him, THEN and only then I will have my vengeance!”

No surprise now that his name appears on the list

// level 2 and this event now gives my character a background story. Whta a stroke of luck.

With a wide grin, a drow in the back of the pub downs his beer and watches the spurred warrior. He waits silently for the him to leave and checks the name on the list.

"There will berivers of blood flowing through these tunnels, and of course none of it will be mine.." the drow chuckles quietly to himself as he exits the building, slipping to the nearest alleyway and out of sight.