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Rollinrice 10-25-05, 12:09 AM

I fiddled with my character's background and came up with an updated one. I also tried to write it in a different style. The link to my old character background can be found here: http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?t=510359 This is just a rough draft. As wrote by Token Ebonhand on the eve of his trial I was born in Thay, my mother was an apprentice to the Red Wizard Malkius and my father was Orin De'shar, renegade drow warrior of an unknown city. I was born an experiment of procreation. Malkius and my sire, wondered if the abilities of a drow could be passed on to their non-drow offspring. My mother was among many that 'volunteered' to take part. Unknown to Malkius, my sire had also made this offer to one of his rivals. After my birth, mother was allowed to keep me for a time, I believe a year or three. When i was taken away, the mage began his twisted experiments upon me and my siblings. The other mothers either vanished or went insane mysteriously, mine was spared those fates because she was the favored of Malkius apprentices. When i joined my siblings in the wizard's underground tower, we were tested for magical ability. If any of us showed any talent, they were culled from the rest and given to the wizard. Those who wasn't chosen were made slaves to our father. The first year we quickly learned how to be quiet and make no noises, even while being whipped or beaten. Once the weakest was removed the real horror began. For the next few years, we were trained in the arts of stealth, weaponry and various other skills that we needed to survive that hellish existance. Many of us developed magical qualities later on, these were trained in the arcane arts as well. I never showed any magical aptitude, until later that is. There was times we were taken out unto the streets to get some reallife experience. Against the beggars and the poor of the slums we became terrors of the night. I hated those times the most, the screams and cries of the innocent and helpless still plague me in my dreams. I killed my first man at the age of fourteen, the memory haunts me still. Our graduation came many years later, when our father and his cohort decided to remove our master and take the best of both 'guilds'. In our own dwelling did our eneimies come at us. Many of my squadmates died that night. In the resulting battle both wizards were betrayed and killed by our father. Taking everything of value and several of the survivors with him, he fled. A few others, and myself, decided to salvage what we could and left with our freedom. During our search we found our former master's journal. Inside we discovered the names and where-abouts of each of our mothers. It was then that I first learned my mother's name, Rayne Ebonhand, and by last accounting was in Shadowdale. Mixed in a pile of books was her journal. This, my gear and some coins i took with me on my journey. Leaving behind all the years of pain and despair, I began my new life in search of her. Sometimes fate can be kind in the guise of cruelty. During my travels, I was attacked by a group of orcs. Sorely pressed and wounded, I began to think my quest would be unfulfilled. That is until a druid of the forest came to my aid. With his magic and animal companions, he chased the roving band away. Being an oddity can sometimes be a good thing. Never meeting a person off my heritage before, he stayed his hand. Taking me back to his log cabin, he healed my wounds as i laid unconcious. Searching my possesions he found my mother's journel and read the contents throughout the night. When morning came, I awoke to see him standing over me holding her book. Looking into my eyes and reading my soul, he said that he would assist me in my search. He took care of me until I was rested. For the next month he taught me how to survive in the wilderness and to tell directions when lost. He gave me a map of the regoin and showed the quickest and easiest route to Shadowdale. Most of all he gave me friendship, when I was in dire need. I can nor will I ever be able to pay him back for these gifts. I will long remember the name of Merrywinter Twinoaks. I resumed my search with a sad heart and glad spirit. When i finally found her home, I was nervous and many thoughts raced through my mind. My fear overcame my resolve amd I turned away. Before I could leave, a man came to the door and called out. At first there was shock in his eyes, but slowly ever so slowly a recognition and great saddness came unto him. I asked for my mother knowing how riddiculous that claim sounded. He was my mother's husband, he said after asking my name. Stating that her son had a mark upon him placed there by her. Showing the brand, that I had from birth, on my arm. He asked me to follow him. Walking arround the house, he led me to a grave beneath an old oak. There laid my mother's final resting place. As the tears poured from my eyes, he told me of how she died. A great sickness had spread throughout the land earlier in the year. She worked long and hard with the sick and the priests of the nearby town to find a cure. The cure was found at last but not before the plague had taken its last victum, my mother. I admit that my knees had grown weak during the tale and I found myself sitting beside her grave. For hours i cried and as the grief flowed out of me, I came to realize that I was alone. Staggering to my feet I made my way to the house. He met me and invited me in. Inside the well furnished home, I was shocked to find that she had left me a letter and a book. He said that she asked him to give them to me if I ever came looking for her. The letter contained an apology for letting me go and an askance for forgiveness. The book was another matter, it fairly hummed in my hands and I knew it was magical. Giving me a private moment, he left me alone in the den. Opening that book was the hardest thing I have ever done. Inside I found it to be a never ending journal book, with two commands written on the first page. Speaking these words produced a burst of magic before my eyes. Slowly an illusionary figure took shape. It was my mother! Her voice sounded so sweet as it read out every entry that was in the book. For hours on end, i listened to her voice as her illusion spoke of things from the day after I was taken away until a few days before her death. The morning found me still listening, as her husband and my step-father told me that I could stay as long as I needed to. That evening he introduced me to the rest of the family. Fearing their reaction, i tried to politely refuse. But it was to no avail. Mustering my courage I went outside to meet them. The eldest was a boy by the name of Ernst. The younger two were girls by the names of Glora and Shadel. Ernst was cautious at first, but the girl broke the silence with tears of joy and rushed to embrace their lost brother. It was awkward at first, but a part of me came to feel welcomed. I believe my mother's spirit found a measure of peace that day. I stayed with them for a time. Sharing their joys and heartaches. I bleed with Ernst, when the Zhents attacked the Dales the next spring. When we wasn't working the farmlands or hunting in the woods, we would listen to mothers' journal book. After a while, I began to find my own bit of peace with my life. Yet fate has a way of changing things. My sire, during this time, had been hunting down his 'children' and either converting them to his cause or killing them. Eventually he found me. I refused his offer and he drew his sword. He nearly killed me, but when he saw the rest of my family a wicked grin spread its evil across his face. Wounded and weak, I was bound by my former fellow students. They and my sire bound my hands and feet, and those of my family. With a maniacal laugh, he smashed the lantern, burning on the table, onto the floor. The house was soon blazing and they left. My step-father somehow had gotten his hands free and dragged me to safety. As he re-entered the building it collapsed in. With his last bit of strength, he flung Shadel out of a window. Before he could save any of the others a beam fell in and pinned him to the floor. I passed of shortly after. Thankfully, Shadel and I was spared the screams of our burning family. I awoke several days later in the care of Shadel and a neighbor. She told me in a sorrow filled voice of how the neighboring farmers had seen the blaze and came to our aid. By the time they arrive there was nothing they could do, but take us somewhere to heal our injuries. When I was able, we returned to the homesite. Three fresh graves greeted us at first sight. We held each other as the tears washed away our pain. After paying my respects, i began searching the ashes. I found my weapons and other gear, and to my suprise I found the journal book. Covered in soot and my face streaked with tears, I swore vengence on my sire. After building a new home with the money we had saved, during the building of the home my sister and the local preist had become close friends. Saying my goodbyes to both of them, I left in search of my muderous sire. Calling out blessings and the promises of when I return we could be a family again, they watched me as I left. I didn't look back ,for if I did, they would see the tears in my eyes. That was a year ago and since then I have searched constantly. All I have found has been rumors and false trails. In my travels I have seen the hatred that burns in the eyes of strangers as they look upon me. I know that they see only the Drow in me, and for this I can forgive them. Merrywinter once told me,"Peace is a state of being." Maybe one day I will be at peace again, but for now 'father' let the hunt begin. I hope you enjoyed reading this. Please any comments or improvement would be appreciated. Thanks.