- Posts: 16
- Joined: Sat Jul 03, 2010 2:19 pm
Weight: 90 lbs
Distinguishing features: As a natural born drow, lithe yet athletic form. Angular and sharp shaped face. She bears markings of black ink, barely visible to the eye, in shapes and forms of strange and omnious sharp tools, words in drow language.
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Deity: Lloth, the queen of spiders
Born into a nameless family in the drow city of Guallidurth situated underneath the great Calim desert in the Middledark. Early life being un-remarkable, serving under the everwatching attention of the great drow noble houses of the metropolis. The great metropolis consisted of atleast 400 claimed drow houses, many of which conspired and quarreled for superiority by the skin of their teeth for whatever little advantage or position might be procured, an endless war in the shadows. But in true, only twenty or so houses of "true" nobility held any measured power within' the city, rest of the rabble merely fighting for whatever scraps and leftovers dropping from the banquet tables of the true nobles.
Not uncommon, was service under a greater house by the lesser families, either by lip-service or comissioned tasks of varying difficulty. Scapegoating was not an uncommon tactic either, to loose the scent of blood and blame, lesser families could be used as expendable resource to satisfy an error or slight. Such a beginning was the start for Yasdrez'a.
For whatever cause, or reason, did not really matter. Her family was placed blame for an error of a noble's mistake. Trade in life, slaves and tragedy was only a question of gold and influence. The head of her family, mother and elder sisters assassinated in a manner so to make clear of their heinous, even if falsely claimed, errors in slighting whoever the supposed offended were. She was at age of 30 at the time, one of the youngest siblings of the family, her two brothers of similar age deemed unworthy of attention, sold in slavery for whatever grueling tasks and end ahead .. They were never to be seen again, most likely ending up dead for either joy of yet another noble, or simply hazards of slave occupation.
The only surviving daughter of the family, Yasdrez'a, still young enough to be considered malleable and for her fortune, a female, was introduced as a simple house-servant of the now mastering greater house of the city, inheriting the name as a sign of ownership. Simple life of a servant consisting of menial tasks and minimal amounts of sustenance for survival. She learnt to get by with whatever little was provided, during the years of servitude, growing bolder and abusing the fact of her diminished importance. Stealing things here and there, first only additional pieces of food, drinks .. But in later years of service, items of mild value that would exchange for a sum coin or two by shady corners of city-streets.
By her 70's, serving in silence and swift efficiency, another opporturnity was proposed. For whatever purposes, upcoming shadow war, espionage or abundance of favored coin for whatever services provided to yet another greater house of the region, her new family was to begin training new acolytes for the tasks and missions ahead, no doubt half of them expected to meet an unfortunante end. The young drowess was considered gifted, more importantly, loyal and serving for the causes of the house. She was initiated in the house of the shadows, beginning years of training consisting arts of espionage, shadowing and assassinations.
The new chapter in her life took her out from the streets, placing her above them, in the dark alcoves, the shadiest of corners where once was considered a death-trap for any young drowling to enter. Now, this was her turf, little by little, spreading her webs in the dark...
Years passed in the darkness, the shadow-war between a number of houses slowly escalating, through intel and words passed in shadows. The web was beginning to encase the players inside, a lie from truth was difficult to dicern, but there she was, in the middle of the ensuing chaos .. Dancing by the strings of her webs, lightly stepping forth and back ..
The penultimate day came, as all the resources, all the lies and truths were clawed through and a house-wars began. Losses and victories fed and drained on each side, reports from the shadows clarifying .. Confusing .. The situation. A triumph, a moment of victory for the now noble house of Yasdrez'a was at grasp as she and a group of the members of their house of shadows reported a fall of their enemies defenses by the gates, leaving the path for direct assault through the main gates easily achievable. Yasdrez'a offered a token to her matron mother, a tongue, claimed to have procured from the eldest daughter of the opposing noble house, a result of grueling interrogation into the secrets of their house defenses.
The matron mother, gleeful and invigorated by the promise of ending the long, decades passing war finally coming to an end. She gathered her main assault forces, her daughters, those who were not already in the front lines .. A final assault, storming through the unvacant enemy gates and corridoors, bodies littering allover, leaving the entrance open .. Just as the reports told ..
The webs gathering, tightening around her, leaving no escape .. The spider had it's prey right where it wanted ..
The ruse was realized too late by the matron and her present daughters, the reports were simply a string of lies, half-truths, leading to this exact moment in time. Surrounded by the enemy, the matron's advanced assault forces pinned within' the enemy corridoors by all sides, pinned swiftly by arrows and spears. The once thought dead bodies simply lifting from their places and assaulting the invaders. The matron mother, horrified of the realization of her informant's betrayal and blind trust on her, the feeling of a knife being twisted around her chest .. Cursing her name: "Yasdrez'a ... ". Her enemies now in turn, gleeful of the succesful trick of mindgames and shadows for their favour, gloating over the defeated matron mother, displaying a body of one of her daughters. The opposing matron now mocking her opposition "She had a wagging tongue, we had to remove it eventually .. I'm sure you received it already? "..
"Yasdrez'a ... " The defeated matron mother uttered under breath, in fury, in betrayal. The final thoughts before her house's demise, end of her era, her life.
She stood leagues away from the site of her ultimate deed, in the shadows which had given her much leverage during the dark years. By her feets laid a pair of spies from the very same house of shadows she learnt her craft, stabbed through the back in cold blood, never to be expected to be betrayed by one of their sisters.
Yasdrez'a gazed from the deep shadows of the cliff she was stationed, peering over the dark horizon where an assault force of a third house was slowly crawling in view. Second-hand information reaching their ears from the shadows, that two houses vying for supermacy in a single point of contest that cycle, easily choked and sieged if taken advantage of.
The spider had caught all her prey, all in her webs of chaos and lies, only the dead remained as a sign of her vengeance fulfilled.
Soon after the shadow war escalations, the spider left the city .. Somewhere north, away from any who would aknowledge her name.
Style of her life and beginnings force-feeding her psychopathic tendencies, not altogether unknown in the drow society. She was encouraged through long decades of abuse and diminished value on her existence, the more cold and passive, logical route of reasoning serving her purposes and ensuring survival. She did not share the proud and pompous characteristics of many of the nobles born in abundance and position. Everything she had, came through her own deviousness, patience and intelligence to act on at a right moment.
She was cold, although skillfully able to feign emotion and even approachability, something was yet missing; a genuine heartfelt warmth or compassion, it permeated the air in her presence. Like the spider she learnt to become, so too all semblance of humanity in her person was missing.
She was not void of emotion altogether, she knew anger and hatred well, a tool which she hid well lest' be punished by any foolish outbursts. She practised her malevolance silently, like a poison coursing through veins. She was well calculated, snapping out of place was not unheard but great attempts were made to cool her vitriolic outbursts, a sign of weakness and lapse of judgment. But truely, at times, her vicious nature could be noticed seeping through the cracks of gritting teeth, albeit rarely.
She embodied the aspect of the spider the drow worship, the one that waits in shadows, spreading its webs, cautiously scheming. Cold inhumane cravings pushing her life into more suffering and pain, fueling her own supressed hatred and anger, the only things she ever learnt and was taught..
Originally from Guallidurth, a large metropolis of drow might. Whether or not her presence in the shadow-wars of various drow houses was noted, was carefully attempted to be diminished by her own actions. Though lies and betrayals when uncovered, carry a heavy burden, her retreat from the great city to the unknown northern regions being an attempt to loose tracks to her involvements or past life. She keeps a keen eye and ear on her back these days, growing in silent paranoia, as any proper growing drow does.