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« am: 14.11.2003, 01:44:46 »
Drow Campaign
Zanan's Drow Kampagne
Zanan
Website
eMail 21:50 Apr.14 - Ust unboi'en wund l'olath
Ust unboi'en wund l'olath - First steps into the dark
Vendui jal!
This is going to be our home for some month to come. We have all in all eight characters plus my DMC and they go by the names ...
Character & Player
Dx'zau'vrinn - Dxzauvrinn
Zhadristan Myxim - Coldwyn -> Phaerven
Nar'zen Sin'th - Foxfire
Zai'Dizzen - Zai'Dizzen -> DM (Zanan)
(Elaisian Varliuth - Selvarin -> retired)
Vezellek - Oyn
(Nathrae - Sephirian -> retired)
("The Nameless" - Demenon -> retired)
Sheiriya - Sheiriya
Nata'al - Zanan
NB: You do not need another nick on these boards, yet, if you don't use another nick, write your character's name at the top of each entry to minimise confusion.
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FIRST STEPS - SKULLPORT
Skullport, or the Port of Shadow to the learned and informed, is a dismal and dangerous domain populated by the most vile beings the Underdark has to offer. Mercenaries gather to sell their swords and lives to the highest bidder; drow move about shading their sensitive eyes from glowing fungus, driftglobes, and braziers of glowworms; and slaves go up on the blocks to feed the Calishite and mind flayer demand for labor. In this underworld city beneath Mount Waterdeep, anything and everything can be bought, sold, or traded for a price. Slavers, smugglers, mercenaries, and black-market merchants operate openly in Skullport. In fact, the economy of the Port of Shadow is dependent upon the despicable practice of buying and selling sentient beings. The enigmatic Skulls rule and maintain order in the city. These floating disembodied skulls wander about Skullport, which takes its name from their presence, tending to aims only they can fathom and enforcing their sometimes whimsical and often harsh will through the use of cryptic magical abilities. But so long as the actions of a being do not inhibit trade, cause mass destruction, or attempt to wrest control of the Port from the Skulls, his or her actions are ignored by the Skulls and overlooked by the populace of the city.
Skullport is a haven for underworld and illicit activities, especially dangerous ones: Smuggling and smugglers, piracy and pirates, slavery and slavers, drug-running and those who concoct drugs and poison all thrive and dwell cheek by jowl in the Port of Shadow. Most folk in Skullport are hiding from or trying to avoid the forces of the law of the surface world or are poor folk trapped in this city of darkness because of personal misfortune sometimes just the misfortune of being born here.
Skullport is relatively easy to penetrate, assuming one knows how to get there or knows someone who does, but this comes with no guarantee of safe passage. Visitors can use the South Seacaves of Mount Waterdeep, walk into town from elsewhere in the Underhalls or the Underdark, or float in on the River Sargauth from elsewhere in Undermountain or through a gate. If one is enslaved or steps through a gate accidentally (or the wrong gate on purpose), it is even quite easy to arrive in Skullport when one does not want to be in the Port of Shadow at all.
(Skullport, p. 4 &
More to follow soon.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...
Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think, then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.
Zanan
Website
eMail 10:38 Apr.17 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
A house in Lower Skullport
Right to the West of Amet'ned-thoth's house stands a small, two story building. It's outer walls are almost black, the windows small eyes of darkness. Only one of the rooms in the top floor seems to harbour any life, as flickering light can be seen shining through its window. It is this house that you were told to visit at a certain hour of today. Anyone invited will find the heavy wooden door unlocked and an aerial servant waiting right behind it. After a formal greeting, it will show you the way to the upper floor, to a room way off the one who is bathed in candle light.
Darkfire burns in a two braziers, a sweet scent of typical Drow herbs fills the air. Three Drow occupy the room, two leaning against the wall opposite to the entrance. A most stunningly beautiful Drow lady stands right in the middle of the room and bows her head once you enter. She introduces herself as Naedrylaen and bides you to take a seat. Once all guests are here, she promises, the reason why you were asked to come here will be revealed.
Ust, usstan elgg dos ...
Cease this tirade, take a breath, and think, then you will realize, enemy of the Dark Elves, that my concern for your well being has always been, at best, limited.
Dxzauvrinn
Email
02:04 Apr.18 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
Dx'zau'vrinn - The slender dark figure arose from the black shrine. His time for praying this night was at its end. Delicate fingers gloved in tight fitting black leather brushed a strand of pearl-white hair from his face and pulled the cowl of his finely-woven jet black piwafwi over his head. It was time to depart to his favorite tavern and partake of some, no doubt cheap mushroom wine. The lithe movements of the dark figure went almost unnoticed by the townhouse guards who were posted outside the entrance of the shrine. Malakuth's houseguard's shifted their death spears to a defensible position unsure of the wraith-like being's identity. A wry smile graced the drow elf's handsome but haunting features. The drow then unveiled his face revealing his sharp facial features and cold lifeless pale blue eyes. He then produced his black half-mask and dagger shaped house insignia and brought it before the drow guards eyes. They breathed a sigh of relief and nodded their heads indicating that the drow could continue on along his course. "Dx'zau'vrinn, Malakuth has informed us that your services are no longer needed for the remainder of these 10 days," said one of the house guard's. Dx'zau'vrinn simply nodded and dissapated into the dark recesses of the townhouse's upper level.
A short time later, Dx'zau'vrinn set comfortably at his usual table at 'The Hell Hound's Muzzle', his favorite tavern, taking in glass of mushroom wine. He was suppose to meet one of his contacts here in this pit of cuthroats and black-hearted killers. He was late. He would have to charge the annoying little boggle a 30% increase for wasting his time.
Just then a lean athletic framed humanoid burst through doors of the tavern and ran directly to the drow's table. Dx'zau'vrinn remained calm, resting a gloved hand on the magnificently crafted basket-hilt of his fine steel rapier. At first he pegged the humanoid for a rather ragged looking half-drow, instantly noticing his pointed ears and high cheekbones, but then he noticed the gray cast to the man's skin and the fusion of the first and second fingers on his hands. Dx'zau'vrinn scoffed, his lip curling up in disgust. "A tiefling." The humanoid looked confused by the drow's words, but bowed low. "I'm Spider, and I've a message for you good sir courtesy of Spider's Fleet o' Feets," the gray skinned humanoid said. He then produced a letter from a pouch on his belt and placed it on Dx'zau'vrinn's table. He then bowed low yet again and sprinted from tavern. Dx'zau'vrinn drew a wickedly sharp curved jambiya from a hidden location on his person and cut open the envelope containing the letter. A summons. Perhaps Malakuth wasn't quite through with him for the remainder of these ten days after all. He quickly gathered his belongings and slipped out the tavern cutting the jugular of a drunk orc who happened to bump into him on the way out.
The letter instructed for him to enter a black non-discript two-story building west of Amet'ned-thoth's house. Dx'zau'vrinn first stopped by the Feathered Rat pet shop and retrieved his pet cavvekan who was getting a grooming. He whistled sharply and the bat-faced, black velvety-furred dog ran to his side. He then made his way to the building. Moments later he came across the building that met the description of the one in the letter. He searched the entrance for any traps, seeing none, he entered. The aeriel servant who instantly greeted him upon entering the building escorted him to a candle-bathed room on the upper level. A sweet smell wafted through the air and the upper-level was bathed in assorted hues of darkfire. The aerial servant then brought him to a room occupied by three drow, one a gorgeous female. Dx'zau'vrinn brought his hand to the hilt of his blade. He strongly distrusted female drow, especially ones that possessed such beauty. She smiled brightly as she greeted him and beckoned him in. After thoroughly searching the room for anything peculiar, he walked in along side his cavvekan. She bowed low to him and explained that the reason he was summoned here would be shortly explained. He remained standing and his hand never left the hilt of his rapier concealed beneath the folds of his cloak.
Oyn
Website
eMail 11:55 Apr.20 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
Vezellek
A slight tickling sensation on the back of the neck was felt near the ending of the day’s prayers. Ignoring it, Vezellek continued her prayers. As the end came she gave attention to her visitor.
The words, “migration started”, drifted into her mind. Nodding she mentally asked, “Where?” After a moment came, “black house… Amet'ned- thoth's… near” With a slight nod she stood, dusting off dark wed-embroidered cloak. Gathering up her holy symbols and strapping on her dark armor, Vezellek turned away from the river Sargauth which she was sitting near. Traveling swiftly through the tunnels she went, the spider messenger scurrying alongside her.
Once reaching the main city it was but a few more minutes before reaching Amet’ned-thoth’s house. Pointing to a small two-story building to the west she mentally asked “There” as she turned to face the spider. “Yes” came the reply. With a nod she dismissed the spider. “Best you don’t come with me. Not sure how they would like you my friend. Hunt well. I will call for you when I leave this place.”
Approaching the heavy wooden door Vezellek entered. The aerial servant greeted her and led the way upstairs. Walking past some doors it finally came to one and opened it. Candle light flooded out causing Vezellek to pause a moment in order to visually adjust. Slowly she entered to see four Drow inside. She gave a quick glance to the two leaning against the wall opposite her. A slight curtsy to the female in the middle of the room, just low enough to be respectful of the female before her. Lastly she looked over to the male off to her side. She gave a small smile upon seeing the cavvekan at his side, though the smile was more at it then him.
“My name is Vezellek. Remember it for I don’t feel like repeating it more then needed.” Saying this she strolled over to a chair and placed her small thin frame comfortable into it. With her legs crossed and spidery fingers clasped in her lap she studies the room from her vantage point.
Narzen
Website
eMail 14:19 Apr.20 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
In one corner of the room, shadows stirred to life around a chair. A man slowly stood up and pulled back the hood of his seemingly torn apart dull gray cloak. He strolled to the other drow, bowing his head slightly to Naedrylaen. The man was of slender build and rather short, but his form-fitting leather outfit gave an idea of well-trained muscles. The man's milky white eyes were cold but constantly alert. If he was carrying any weapons, they were hidden under the ragged cloak.
"I am Narzen Sin'th." he said to the two newcomers in a dry tone and sat down to a chair opposite to Vezellek, giving the woman a brief nod. Narzen then looked at the man with the cavvekan and raised an eyebrow as a sign of expecting the man to finally introduce himself.
Dxzauvrinn
Email
19:20 Apr.21 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
Dx'zau'vrinn-
Reaches a gloved hand down to stroke the head of his cavvekan, silently bidding the dog to sooth it's ire. He too had noticed the man coalescing in the shadows, though more than likely not before his keen nosed pet. He chuckled slightly and cupped his chin in his hand, he had never before seen any of these drow. He found himself quite intrigued. Perhaps an introduction was in proper order.
"I am Dx'zau'vrinn," his melodic voice issuing from underneath the dark recesses of his hood. His introduction made, he brought a hand back down to his black-furred dog bidding it sit to perhaps make their company a bit more easy. He himself decided to remain standing, ever-ready for the unexpected.
Selvarn 21:39 Apr.21 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
One of the other occupants in the room,a drow dressed in red-orange leather but for a dark vest and cloak. "I regret to say that I have other matters to attend to, " the one known as Eleisan said almost apologetically. "It seems my...'family'...has arrived, a few members at least, and I must be on my way to carry out business and ensure a proper...welcome. I wish you well, and no doubt I'll miss whatever gains could be gotten, but this other business of mine is too good to pass up." And with a flourish of his hand, as if in a salute, he was gone.
ZaiDizzen
Website
eMail 09:36 Apr.23 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
The silhouette just stared at the aerial servant for a second before putting on his silken black mask. A silver stitched spider surrounded the right eye with its legs extending to the edge of the mask. His hand slid across his clean shaven head until it reached the only patch of hair at the cap of his skull. He remembered that he had braided the tail a couple of days ago. He straightened his piwafwi, and the pouches beneath, before following the servant.
Zai’Dizzen entered the room taking in the smells, the pleasant and unpleasant. Standing a least a head taller than those present. With a smile in his eye, he bowed extravagantly low to the hostess. He then turned his head to take in the figure in the corner and gave a light nod. Walking over to the table, he pulled out one of the chairs and sat himself down, acknowledging the others at the table. He placed his elbows on the table, and began tapping his rune covered fingers together, giving off a metal against metal sound. The light reflecting off his elegantly carved hands.
After looking around again, he sat back thoughtfully. From behind the mask came a gravelly voice, a voice that sounded as if it once had the melodic tone of the drow. “Oh, I do hope I’m not the last.” he said with sarcastic smile, “being late is one thing, being the last is another.”
Nathrae
Website
eMail 08:20 Apr.24 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
Nathrae views the building silently, starring at the candlelit window– a frown appears on her obsidian face, but passes quickly. She draws the black, skilfully embroidered, flowing cloak closer around her slender shape and pushes the heavy wooden door open with some afford.
Responding to its greetings with a scowl, she follows the aerial servant upstairs, nodding to herself as she realises she’s not brought to the undrowly lit room.
A faint smile appears on her face as she breaths in the familiar scent of fragrant herbs floating in the corridor they are entering, as the aerial stops in front of one of the doors and motions her to enter.
She does so silently and answers Zai’Dizzen’s words she hears on arrival with an amused smile. Then her silvery eyes scan the room measuringly, noticing the summoned crowd with renewed interest.
She steps forward casually and gives the other female guest a nod of acknowledgement and bows very slightly in formal greeting to their host. “Nathrae ‘the late’ to your…” she pauses with an ironic smile on her lips “‘service’”.
[modifiziert]
Zhadristan
Website
eMail 13:27 Apr.24 - Re: Ust unboi\'en wund l\'olath
A slender drow crosses the street to the house his contact described to him. Always watchful, the male moves from shadow to shadow, keeping the surrounding traffic in view.
As the male enters the house, he is greeted by an aerial servant who opens the door for him.
Before he fully enters the room, he brushes the dust from his piwafwi, thereby showing underlying armor, a drowish chain mail.
When the male enters through the door, his full hight can be seen. The male´s height could easily rival one of the rivvins living in the hated upper city, but the male is gaunt, with a slightly sunken face, as through starvation. He keeps his white hair shorn nearly to the skull and his face as well as his lower arms are covered with vicious looking scars.
Oddly, the male´s garb is a mixture of a noblemans wear and the standard issue equipment of a house retainer od slave soldier.
Casting a weary look around the room, eyeing every occupant in view, the male bows to the lady, showing his reverence.
"I´m Zhadristan of house Myxin. As you have requests, here I am".
With this, the drow male searches a confortable chair and waits for the things to come.
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