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Raril Xar'Cha

Picture thanks to Timberwolf
Another pic:

Raril, in different clothes and with his different weapons.

CE Male Drow Bard 20/ Rogue 10/ Assassin 10

Raril is an extremely handsome and charming Drow, with shoulder length white hair and a perpetual grin on his face. he wears a dark blue tinic over black breeches and a pair of well worn, but highly polished black boots. His clock is usually thrown over one shoulder, for greater mobility and because he thinks it looks better that way. Rather than wearing a hood, which would obscure his good looks, Raril has a wide brimed feathered cap to keep the sun out of his sensetive eyes. He also uses the cap to hide a spider shaped brand on the side of his head, he even wears a bandana beneath the cap in case he ever loses it.

Raril will do whatever he has to to get ahead, living by the rules he learned in the underdark 'Trust No One' and 'Don't Get Caught.' He'll lead an honest life if he can, he does have a lovely singing voice, although most of the songs he knows are in Drow. He's quick to take offense and even quicker to take revenge. He has a long memory for any slight against him and he does not forgive easily. He has a fascination for magic, or anything that will bring him power and a more comfortable and secure lifestyle, but is afraid of powerful wizards and sorcerers.

Raril carries a rapier covered in drow knockout poison, a heavy crossbow (+5), a pair of short swords covered in ice (+3 and 1d6 cold damage) and two wicked daggers (+5 3pts vampiric healing). Boots and cloak of Elven kind, along with a Robe of Blending, make him practically unnoticeable to all but the sharpest eyes and ears. He carries a back pack with the rest of his things in it, 2 coils of spidersilk rope (25ft each)

Nemia Fur Coat (grants DR 5/bludgioning and any pircing or slashing damage more than 5 into subdual damage, fire immunity (the coat itself, anyways))

Undead Hating Dagger, allows sneak attack and crits on undead, also Undead Bane. Usually screams alot when there's an evil undead around.

Silver belt- makes any weapon he weilds considered silvered, deals double damage against creatures harmed by silver. Also, any hostile creatures who come near him will be considered in full sunlight. It's a pain for vampires and the like.


Born the second son of the noble House Xar'Cha, Raril was expected to serve his family absolutely for its glory and the glory of the Spider Queen, Lolth. When he came of age, he began training with the House weapon master, with dismal results. He could wield only the lightest of weapons and insisted on useing a shield, despite the weapon master's attempt to teach him the dual wielding style favored by most of his race.

Growing frustrated with turning her son into a warrior, Matron Xar'Cha sent Raril to Sorcere, the magic academy. Although his older brother, Kyo, was already a powerful wizard, their mother thought Raril would fare better with books instead of swords. He enjoyed his first few months at Sorcere, easily picking up a few cantrips. He even managed to learn some healing magic by listening to the chants coming from the nearby Arach-Tirith, the training ground for all of Lolth's priestesses.

Raril soon grew bored with his studies, though, finding arcane tomes boring and tedious. He began daydreaming during lectures and would sneak out of the school to walk the streets of the city, mingling with the commoners. There he learned the secret teachings of Vhaeraun and the truth of the Crown Wars. He skipped classes, instead frequenting the taverns of the city singing blasphemous tunes and learning all he could about the people around him.

When his next exam came, Raril found himself in serious trouble. He arrived late and had completely forgotten his spell components. The Masters asked him to cast a simple cantrip. He cast the spell successfully, but his teachers were not pleased. His motions were strange, more like a dance than arcane gestures, and his chant was different, too melodic too musical. He was aked to cast a more difficult spell, but it failed. Now angry, the Masters asked him to try a wand. This time it worked, but the command word he had used was wrong, the color of the beam was a bit off. Raril was declared a failure and thrown out of the school. Fearful of what his mother would do to him, he hid in the city, listening for information on his family and rival Houses, knowing someone would come after him.

During his years in the city, Raril learned to lie, cheat, and steal to survive. He established a network of informants, concocted various disguises, and quietly eliminated anyone who threatened to expose him. He learned that his sister, Hirriel, had finished her training at Arach-tirith, and had been sent to the surface on a mission to kill a warrior, Ryln Irr'himn, who had truned away from the teachings of Lolth. Matron Xar'Cha sent Kyo with her, to learn about the magic there and to keep his sister alive.

The mission was crucial to House Xar'Cha. The rebel warrior was a member of House Irr'himn, rival of House Xar'Cha and next in line for a seat on the ruling council. House Xar'Cha had been schemeing for decades to remove their rival, but could not afford to leave any survivors anywhere to be used as witnesses against them. Were any of House Irr'himn left alive, the city would unite against House Xar'Cha and destroy it.

Hirriel returned from the surface with news that Ryln had disappeared, and that she had been given the task of creating a Temple of Lolth on the surface. Now ordained a High Priestess, she returned to the surface to build the temple. With the rebel son eliminated, Matron Xar'Cha quickly attacked and eliminated House Irr'himn. After the attack, the Matron exausted from casting spells to aid the assault, Raril's eldest sister, Danube, assassinated her mother and took her place as Matron Mother.

Raril saw this as his chance to return home, he began to slowly send information to his sister, and now Matron, on the activities of the other Houses. He soon proved his value when he warned of an attack by a lower ranking House. Danube was prepared for the attack and rallied the city against the unfortunate House, eliminateing it completely.
Grateful for Raril's warnings and information, Danube accepted him back into House Xar'Cha. Raril returned proud and ready to serve his family, but Danube, although glad for his help, was not about to let him forget his failure and cowardice. He was beaten, tortured, and, in a dark ritual, branded. He now bears deep purple scar on the right side of his head, shaped like a spider, as a constant reminder of his failings. He never knew the true purpose of the ritual, except to cause him constant pain.

Raril continued to dutifully serve his House, afraid to make another mistake. He was not loyal though, his sister's tortures had turned him away from Lolth. He fully embraced the teachings of Vhaeraun, secretly worshipping and learning of life on the surface. He disguised his research as a way to help his brother and sister adapt to life on the surface. Danube was pleased by his dedication, and , not having heared anything from either sibling, sent Raril to the surface to check on their progress.

When Raril arived on the surface he was pleased to find that the pain from his scar was nothing more than an occasional itch, and, although the bright sun hurt his eyes, the nights were quite beautiful. He took his time in looking for his family members, more curious about the strange world around him and not eager to return home.


An Idea for Modern Town


Description: A young woman with long dark hair and bright green eyes. She seems small for her age and  the baggy clothing she wears makes her look even smaller. She usually wears a Polaroid camera around her neck and likes to take lots of pictures.

Abilities: By focusing her mind she can create bubble-like shields and blades of mental energy that she can wield like daggers or throw to slice through distant targets, and she has minor telekinetic abilities, allowing her to move small objects with a thought.

Unfortunately, using her abilities taxes her strength and she will sometimes pass out after doing too much with them. After passing out she loses pieces of her memory, and after saving herself from a terrible train accident that killed the rest of her family, she has very little memory of who she is or where she came from. She doesn't even know her own last name.

Aura knows that she's slowly losing her memory, and blames the bulk of it on the train accident. She keeps constant diaries and fills photo albums with pictures from her camera, desperately trying to hold on to as much of it as she can.

The foster care system has decided the best place for a girl like Aura is the Xavier Institute, and so she arrives in Modern Town.

Lives in room #245 at the Xavier Institute.

Well, this thing could use a bit of updating. Let's see who else has joined the cast.

Two versions of Lillith, with weapons and armor.

Lillith Rock - An Erinyes/Succubus hybrid (see avatar) who doesn't live up to her fiendish heritage. She's usually very kind and generous, and can't stand to see others suffer. Harming people in her presence is a pretty bad idea. Lillith is proficient in both Arcane and Divine magic, but is not a stranger to bow or blade. She resides at the Rock Estate with her husband, Lucas, their two children, Arthur and Victoria, and everyone else who would want to call the place home. There's plenty of room there, you should drop by some time.(Sorceror 20/Cleric 20, Protection and Healing domains)


Brie and her shadow

Brie Swift - A rather thin woman with short red hair and striking grey eyes, Brie has made a life of hiding in the shadows. She strikes with precision and retreats into the darkness before a counter attack can be made, if her target is lucky enough to survive the initial attack. Despite her more sinister methods, Brie will take on any good cause, mostly out of the good of her heart, but also in a hope to make up for her past mistakes. She's haunted by her past, particularly the time she spent trapped in the Abyss and her dealings with House Xar'Cha. (Rogue 20/ Shadowdancer 10/ Assassin 10)

The Shadow - A six foot tall being made of darkness, with long, clawlike fingers and glowing red eyes. Its touch will steal your strength and send a chill down your spine. The Shadow is fairly quiet, mostly due to being incorporeal. It's very difficult to speak when you can't make the air move in the way you want it to. It's quite willing to have a conversation with anyone who can contact it telepathically, although it can't make such connections itself, and can speak normally on the Shadow Plane, otherwise all you'll hear is very creepy whispers. It was summoned by Brie in a Shadowdancer ritual and is completely devoted to her, by choice and not by any enchantment. Their relationship is more of a partnership, one needs the other to survive. (Summoned Shadow)

Recent events has drawn the Shadow out of the Shadow Plane and entirely onto the Prime Material, causing him to take on the form he once had in life. He now appears as a young monk, dressed in shades of grey. Along with his new corporeality, he is also slowly remembering his life before becoming a shadow, particularly that he has a name: Ciar.

Unfortunately, through a twisting of the bond between Shadowdancer and Shadow, Brie is slowly becoming a Shadow herself. Unless something is done soon, the longer Ciar remains human, the more lost Brie will become.


A few looks for Sszinyon, and his Shadow

Sszinyon Xar'Cha - Sszinyon is slightly shorter and more muscular that his older brother, Raril, and does not share the Elderboy's charm. He is a capable tracker and hunter with a savage streak a mile wide. He takes what he wants and hates losing. This drow has done some unspeakable things, and is hated severely for it, by PC and player alike. He's currently spending a very long time thinking his life over in the Grey Wastes of Hades, but has recently been seen causing havoc in Town again. Odd, that. (Ranger 20/ Assassin 10/ Shadowdancer 10)

Through the madness that only Town can bring, Sszinyon has managed to contract Lycanthropy, and can sometimes be seen as a large white wolf, or a hybrid of wolf and Drow. As if this weren't enough, he's gone through yet another transformation, passing through death and coming out the other side as a vampire. These days he's most often seen as a dark cloaked figure wearing a golden mask. Should such a creature haunt your footsteps, you may want to try running, but there's a good chance it would only make the hunt more fun for him.


Shi'ndra, at various stages

Shi'ndra Xar'Cha - A Drow woman with unusually golden tinted hair and brown eyes, Shi'ndra probably knows Raril better than anyone (aside from Lillith, who had lived in his head for some time). She first met him in the back room of a tavern in Menzoberranzan, in a secret, and rather blasphemous meeting against Lolth (though she pretended to follow the Spider queen, she truly revered Elistraee). Soon the group was found out, but the two managed to escape by helping each other. They grew close, but it was unsafe for them to stay together. Years later, House Xar'Cha made plans to eliminate her House, but Raril managed to save her from the slaughter, while strengthening his own family's position and destroying a second House. Shi'ndra was adopted into House Xar'Cha and had two children by Raril. Seeing her as the cause of their destruction, the remnants of that second House cursed her, changing her into a werelion. Though Raril once loved her, she grew wild with the curse, nearly killing him at one point. Whatever relationship the two had, it had ended before he left the Underdark, but now she's on the surface and wants something from him. (Druid 20/Cleric 20)


Jinny and two versions of Emanuel


A demonic entity who lives to make deals. Need help with something? Ask him, and he'll give you whatever you desire...for a price.


A genie in Emanuel's possession. She usually stays inside a small bottle kept in his bag, but sometimes escapes without him knowing.

Look! open the spoilers just above the descriptions and find pics of pretty much all of my Town characters, and here's a few more:


House Xar'Cha: Family Portrait.

From left to right we have Raril, Shi'ndra, Danube, Hirriel, and Sszinyon


Two versions of Hirriel

And just to add a bit more info, Danube is the eldest sister and Matron of House Xar'Cha, Hirriel is next in line and a powerful priestess of Lolth.

A nicer image of House Xar'Cha.


And I need aplace to store these images so...

Genderbent Lilith:


My newest pair of characters.

Renault DeLoran, Elven Wizard

Maurice DeAshlan, Half-Elven Fighter

Artemis wrote:
From Trog's.

Maurice DeAshlan, a muscular, dark skinned Half-elf with eyes like flint and a long braid of black hair. He wears white cloak, a simple chain shirt and has a curved sword tied to his belt. He is also twitching quite a bit thanks to the spell cast by...

Renault DeLoran, a tan elf with sandy blonde hair and eyes as clear and blue as the cloudless sky, flecked with a touch of gold. He wears cream colored robes and a white cloak of the same style as Maurice's. He also doesn't look very happy at the moment.

Lord and Lady DeAshlan

Look out world, Raril's going to Modern Town.


Dr. Elizabeth Goodman, resident of Citysburg, and currently in the middle of a zombie apocolypse.

Because I'd like to be able to read these all in one sitting without all sorts of interrupting actions, and I have no ther place to put them, I now present to you, in its entirety, Raril's experiences in the Demonweb Pits.


* * * *

Raril slowly wakes from the darkness that had consumed him. He desperately tries to remember what had happened. Where am I? Why does my head hurt so much?

Movement comes from nearby. He was not alone here.

"Lori?" He dared to ask.

"Try again, brother." A voice says in an amused tone.

Raril opened his eyes to see Sszinyon, healed and whole, standing over him.

"Though, I wish your little pet were here. She was so much fun to play with."

Anger and hatred boiled up inside Raril as he remembered the fear he had seen in Lori's eyes. He wanted to get up and strike his brother, but could not find the strength.

"You know, I honestly thought she would fight back harder than she did. Perhaps she really wanted me, deep down inside. She had seen you fail, saw you fall to my strength and cunning. She knew I was better than you. Yes, by the end she was my new toy, just like all the others." Sszinyon chuckled.

No. It isn't true, you monster. You hurt her and I'll kill you for it. No, you will suffer in pain and fear for all eternity, I don't care what it takes. You will pay.

Sszinyon looked up as soft footsteps approached from the surrounding darkness. Concentrating hard, Raril managed to find the strength to turn his head. No. Gods, please, no.

"Raril? Is that you?" It was Lori. How had she gotten here? She shouldn't be here. No. Run. Please. Raril wanted to sceam, to warn her, to question it all.

It was too late. With a terrible laugh, Sszinyon moved towards her. Lori screamed in fright and ran out of Raril's line of sight. Sszinyon gave chase. Raril heard her screaming, begging, crying. He could hear Sszinyon striking her...worse...

I can't move. Why can't I move? Get up! She needs your help. Get up! Raril thought over and over, horror and despair slowly sinking in as he realized he was helpless here. Powerless. Weak.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Sszinyon left them and Lori crawled closer to Raril. She was bruised and broken, as he had last seen her, as Sszinyon had left her before.

"Raril, why...why didn't you stop him?" Lori asked through her tears. "Why didn't you help me? I thought you loved me. I thought you would protect me."

I wanted to, Lori, I swear it, but I'm too weak to stand. I can hardly move.

"Are you scared? Are you afraid of your own brother? Why are you such a coward, Raril?"

Memories filtered through his mind. Times he ran, gave up, didn't fight hard enough. I am a coward.

"I loved you, Raril. I thought I couldn't live without you. That's why I used the dagger. That's why I followed you here."

Terror ran through Raril. She used the sacraficial dagger. The same blade that killed me. That's what happened. That's why she's here. Gods help us. This is the Demonweb Pits.

"Why didn't you save me, Raril? Why...what's that sound?"

Raril heard it too, a chittering sound that echoed through his memories. It was louder and larger than he had ever heard before. Spiders!

The swarm came into view. Lori struggled to her feet, but she could not outrun it. Spiders of every shape, color, and size attacked her. Tore at her. Devoured her. Raril watched all of it, unable to close his eyes, to block out the terrible scene. He would be next, they would come and tear him to pieces. Here they come...

The swarm paused a few feet away from him, encircled him, but came no closer. A mark on the back of Raril's hand burned. A gift half forgotten. He was safe from the spiders, but worse things would come.

* * * *
* * * *

I was a fool. A fool to think I could protect her. I couldn't save her. I couldn't even save myself. Lori, why did you follow me? Why did you stay with me? I told you I was no good for you. I begged you to find someone better. I knew, in the end, I would hurt you. This is all my fault. I caused this, all of this. What have I done? Raril asked the darkness around him.

He could see the grey-white floor on which he lay, curving away from him to form the wall at which he stared. He was in a tunnel crafted from what could only be spider webbing. By this time the Swarm had moved on, leaving nothing of his beloved Lori behind.

Footsteps approached, stopping a few feet away. A feminine voice, as soft as silk, accompanied them. "What have we here? A poor lost little male?"

Oh no, please, just leave me to my sorrow.

A pair of shiny black boots came into view. "No, I don't think I will, Raril Xar'Cha. I think I could make some use of you." She knelt next to him, a Drow woman, indescribably beautiful. So suddenly she was close to Raril, inches away from his face.

I have to run! Gods only know what she'll do to me. Why can't I move?! I should run, but running would only make it worse. It always has and...and she's so beautiful.

She smirked and kissed him. It was soft and warm, sweet as honey. The pain in Raril's head subsided, and he found he could move again. He tried to put an arm around her.

That was a mistake.

Familiar pain lanced through Raril, causing him to twitch and shudder. The Drow woman stood and shook a finger at him. "Uh-uh, I did not ask you to touch me, now did I? Have you been on the Surface for so long that you had forgotten respect?"

"Yes, Mistress. I am sorry, Mistress." Raril found himself saying automatically.

"I think I can forgive you this once, if you promise to correct your ways."

"I can change." He swore.

"There's a good boy. Now, get up and come with me." She turned and walked down the tunnel. Raril quickly pulled himself to his feet and followed a half a step behind her, not wanting to feel that pain again.

The tunnel became a balcony overlooking another chamber. The woman leaned against the railing and directed Raril's attention to the chamber below. Lori stood there, healed and whole and happy, with Sszinyon. She leaned her head against his chest, as she had done so many times with Raril.

"I don't understand."

"I didn't think you would. She was using you, Raril."

"No, Lori loves me."

"Does she? Does she really? Has she ever proven that to you? I know you often question her feelings for you. You have risked life and limb to save her, showered her with gifts, treated her with every kindness, but what does she give you in return? Has she even said 'thank you' to you?"

"She doesn't have to. I know she loves me. That's enough."

"Don't lie to me, Raril, and don't lie to yourself. You've always wanted more from her, but you've been too afraid to ask."

"No... I don't deserve it. I've hurt her too much."

"How, Raril? By being honest with her? Honesty is what love is about, isn't it?"

"I betrayed her."

"She was dead, Raril. More than dead. That's not betrayal, it's moving forward. Besides, what else could you do? Say no to the woman? You aren't that stupid. You know better than to talk back."

"I didn't know it would hurt her, at the time." He agreed.

"Exactly. You were not at fault. But she has betrayed you, knowing full well it would hurt you, after you tried to make things right. That's not love, is it, Raril, hurting each other?"

"No, no it isn't."

"She saw you were going soft, getting too close to her. She went to find another to serve her. Someone stronger than you. And after your most recent defeat, she's found your brother."

In the chamber below, the pair kisses. Intense sadness filters through Raril. Is it true? Does she really not love me?

"But we've..."

The woman next to him scoffs. "Physical love? You know full well that means absolutely nothing. And even if it did, she wasn't exactly very willing, was she? All that marriage nonsense. And she knew you wouldn't commit yourself to her like that. And then she runs off with another Drow! That's a little hypocritical, isn't it? And think back to that night with her, Raril. Something was wrong, wasn't it?"

Yes, now that I think about it, something had been wrong. The was too sudden "You're right."

"Oh no, Raril. I'm not right. You had the facts already. You just needed someone to help you see it all clearly. But now I want to know, what are you going to do about it?"

She played me for a fool, and now she's with Sszinyon. Good. they deserve each other. they don't. They deserve the pain I feel now.

A sinister grin spreads across Raril's face and he glances at the woman, asking for permission to act on his feelings. She simply smiles and nods.

Raril vaulted himself over the railing.

* * * *
* * * *

Raril landed softly on the floor of the cavern, rolling to absorb the impact. Sszinyon spotted him out of the corner of his eye and quickly released Lori. "Well, look at this. You have finally found the strength to stand, have you brother?"

"I have found more than that, it seems." Raril glared at them both.

Lori looked a but surprised. "Raril, this isn't what it looks like."

"No?" Raril laughed. "You may have played me for a fool, Lori, but I am not so stupid as to believe that."

"What was I supposed to do, Raril? You were too weak to help me!" She shouted back.

"Weak? What do you care if I am strong or weak? I thought you loved me!"

"You thought wrong, Raril." Sszinyon said with a chuckle. "She used you, and you know it."

"And I no longer have any use for you." Lori agreed coldly. "I have Sszinyon now."

A cold rage boiled up inside Raril. He had been tossed aside by women before, usually glad to escape with his life, but Lori was different. She had pretended to care. She had broken his heart. Torn it out and stepped on it. And Sszinyon, he had sent him here, brought him to these terrible realizations.

Pain shot through his head again, and Raril clutched at his scar. No...wait...the scar was gone. In it's place, the hilt of the dagger that had been driven into his brain by his sisters years ago. This is where it had ended up. This was what kept him anchored here.

But most importantly, it was a blade. And Sszinyon was unarmed.

Allowing the pain in his heart to override the pain in his skull, Raril tugged on the dagger, sliding it free. With more anger and focus than he had ever experienced before, Raril charged his brother.

Sszinyon jumped back from the attack and Raril feinted right. Sszinyon sidestepped the perceived attack, and into the blade, which Raril had shifted into his left hand.

Sszinyon stumbled back, the dagger's hilt protruding from his torso. There was no blood, not here is a world without bodies, but the Drow was doomed. With the blade came the curse that had plagued Raril, doomed him to torture here. As Sszinyon move farther away, a familiar chittering sound could be heard approaching. The Swarm had found them again.

Raril pulled Lori close as it consumed Sszinyon, sparing her a second attack. He looked into her eyes. "Tell me the truth, Lori. Tell me you haven't simply used me. That I have saved you from that because I truly love you and you love me in return and not through any design of yours. Tell me!"

Tears were in Lori's eyes. She was terrified of him. " killed your own brother. How could you? I thought you were better than that."

"Better? You mean weaker, don't you? I was soft, I was kind, I did everything for you! No longer. You're on your own now." Raril let go of her and stepped back, then turned and walked back towards the balcony.

As he walked away, the Swarm pressed closer to Lori. He could hear her screams as they devoured her once more. Raril did not look back. He didn't even blink. Levitating back up to the balcony, the Drow woman smiled, showing her approval. "Very good, Raril. You have done well."

"Thank you, Mistress."

* * * *
* * * *

Raril followed a half a step behind his new Mistress as they traveled through the grey-toned tunnels of the Demonweb Pits. After a few twisting turns, he was a little surprised to find himself in what appeared to be a private set of rooms. The Drow woman reclined in a chair and gestured for Raril to take a seat across from her. He immediately obeyed, sitting patiently as she examined him, like a cat before it pounced.

"You are a musician?" She asked as much as stated.

"Yes, Mistress." Raril replied.

"Play something for me."

"Of course, Mistress." He quickly formed the spell required to summon a guitar into his hands. Automatically, his fingers plucked at the strings of the instrument, and the strings of his heart. Unconsciously, he had begun to play the song he had played for Lori, back in the tavern, what seemed like a lifetime ago. He wanted to stop playing, end the pain that tore through his soul, but his fingers kept on playing. The woman across from him watched, amusement in her eyes. She knew! Raril didn't dare stop until the song was finished.

"I wonder, Raril, why did you choose to play that particular tune?"

Raril stared at the floor. "Honestly, Mistress, I do not know."

"I do."

Raril's head snapped up in surprise. "You do?"

"You still have feelings for her."

"No. Only the pain she's left me. I-"

"Still love her." She interjected.

Raril thought, then slowly nodded. It was true. Despite the pain and betrayal he felt, a small part of him still clung to the image of the innocent young woman he had fallen in love with.

"You must let go of that, Raril."

"Yes, Mistress." He replied, evenly.

"You really do have to let go of the notion of love. While you hold on to it, you are nothing but a romantic fool. Those women who you thought loved you, were simply using you. Search your memories. Leave your heart out of it, and it will all become clear. You were a tool, a comfort, a trophy, a pet. Never an equal, and how could you ever hope to be? You know your place, Raril! Why fight it?"

"I exist to serve."

"And you are very good at that." She said, standing and coming closer, taking his face in her hands. "When you leave behind these foolish notions and focus on the task before you. You understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good." She slowly took the guitar from his hands and set it aside. "Now I understand you have talents beyond music."

"Yes, Mistress?" Raril confirmed, wondering where this might lead.

"Show me." She whispered in his ear, before nibbling on it gently and sending a shiver down his spine. Conflicting emotions waged war in Raril's heart. Memories played through his mind. Promises made and broken. Pleasure and pain.

Raril blinks for a moment, then whispered his simple reply:


* * * *
* * * *

"What did you say?" the Drow woman asked, leaning back so as to better see Raril's reaction. His face was a mask of terror.

What had I said? Had I truly said no? Dear gods, what madness drove me to deny a servent of Lolth upon her own plane? Dare I repeat myself? Saying anything else would be a blatant lie, and lying would only cause me more troubles now.

Raril swallowed hard and stammered out "I... I said... no." He glances up briefly, trying to judge her anger, but she did not look angry she seemed... disappointed.

"Why, Raril? Why would you deny me this?" she asked, a hint of curiousity in her voice.

His voice cracking, Raril replied  "I swore to her, I would never again-"

"But she betrayed you!" She insisted. "She tossed you aside. Threw you away. How can you keep such promises?"

Raril searched his heart and knew the answer."I love her." He took a bit of strength from the simple statement. "I know she hurt me, but I had hurt her as well, and I refuse to hurt her again."

"Are you sure?" She asked. Raril slowly nodded."Very well." She stood back and held out her hand to him. "Come along."

Reluctantly, Raril took her hand and allowed himself to be led out of her private chambers. Together, they traveled through the twisting passages. With each step, Raril's fear grew. The wondering, the anticipation, it was nearly as bad as the punishment itself. Women like her were the worst, he thought as they walked. They had control of their emotions. They wouldn't be satisfied with a few quick lashes from a snake-headed whip. No, they thought about what they were going to do with you. This will go beyond pain. This just might break me.

Their destination was surprisingly bare. It was a small chamber with a slab of black stone at its center. The stone, the altar, was just large enough for a man to lay down on. She gestured for him to do just that. Raril obeyed without question or hesitation, resigning himself to his fate. She leaned over him and from her hair pulled a silver hair pin, six inches long with a point like a dagger. Her long. white hair brushed against his face as she traced the line of his arm with the cool edge of the hairpin. the combination made Raril shiver. "Tell me, Raril, wouldn't you find my bedroom more comfortable than this?" She asked gently.

A final choice, a chance at forgiveness, a chance for escape. Stubbornly, Raril repeated the simple, little word that would doom him. "No."

The Drow woman frowned and leaned closer to kiss him, once more enveloping Raril in that strange, dreamy pleasure. Distantly, he felt the tip of the hairpin being pressed against the back of his hand, the same hand that bore the mark which kept the spiders at bay. Intense pain shot up his arm as the hairpin penetrated skin, flesh, and into the stone beneath. Raril wanted to scream, but couldn't. Her soft lips were still locked over his. A now familiar chittering sound filled his ears. Suddenly she broke off and turned away without so much as a second glance, leaving Raril gasping in pain and fear, watching the surface of the ceiling shift and flow with the movement of thousands of spiders.

It was only a matter of time until the Swarm descended upon him. Raril knew the mark was broken. He could not run, pinned to the altar as he was, not that he could find the strength to. He had no weapons, no means of escape. Neither unconsciousness nor death would offer him freedom in this place. The woman would never return for him, even if an eternity passed. And it really would be an eternity. his friends could not resurrect him, they could never break the curse that had been placed upon him. His family would never bother, they had sent him here.

Raril was trapped, beyond help and completely without hope.

* * * *


Celenia Naïlo

Artemis wrote:
Into the Black Dragon walks a Red Dragon. Well, that's not exactly true. What the patrons see is clearly the head of a Red Dragon, perched upon the shoulders of a slim, black cloaked, humanoid. As the figure approaches the bar, it may be noticed that it has a slight hunch, or hump beneath the dark, concealing fabric. It glances around at the Den's occupants before the cloak slides back to reveal delicate hands coated in vibrant red scales as it reaches up to remove its head?!

It seems the dragon head was only a mask, a trophy perhaps, or a gift. Either way it is quickly removed and set upon the bartop. The figure is now clearly seen as a woman with straight black hair and golden, almond-shaped eyes. Small horns adorn her hairline, her pointed ears end in a slight frill, and tiny red scales cover her face and neck. Though the individual elements of her appearence may seem greusome, the strange combination of Dragon and Elf is entirely enchanting.

The Half-Dragon wears thigh high leather boots, a skirt that could barely be called such, and a halter top that exposes far more than it covers, all in black like her cloak, which she's just removed and set beside the mask. Great leathery wings unfold from her back, stretching out wide before she finally takes a seat at the bar.


Before you stands a child who looks about 3 or 4 years of age with rather striking features. Perhaps the most noticeable thing about him is that his skin appears to be a dusky blue color. Yes, I said blue, a rather unfortunate result of genetics. His parentage is a mystery, although his slightly pointed ears seems to hint at an Elven bloodline. His red eyes and hair do nothing to help his odd appearance. He's undoubtedly been teased mercilessly because of it. Currently, he's living alone on the streets, just trying to survive.

Through a series of  strange events, Sszinyon has become even more of a monster, contracting both lycanthropy and vampirism. This may cause some trouble for those he gets into a scuffle with.

So... What do you get with what?

Natural form: Here he's simply a vampire. If he bites you, you'll have a rather nasty wound (those teeth are sharp) but nothing more than that. Should he drain you of blood completely, you'll die and rise as a Vampire or Vampire Spawn under his control.

Hybrid and wolf forms: Here's where you get the lycanthropy. Being hit by a natural attack will put you at risk for lycanthropy. You can make a fort save to simply shrug off the disease, and even if you do contract it, it can be removed as per the usual methods. If you don't remove it befoe the first full moon, you will forcibly become a wolf and lose yourself entirely to the transformation until the night has ended. If you didn't know you had lycanthropy, this will repeat every full moon until you figure it out. Once you figure it out, you can transform at will, and will have control of your inner wolf. If you are completely drained of blood by either of these forms, you get both lycanthropy and vampirism! Joy!


Goqualyn - A notably large and muscular drow, he is the epitome of the strong and silent type, mostly because he can't speak. He understands a few languages, though, and can use drow sign to communicate. Which is usually translated by his friend...

Nerandil - an easy going elf who's loud mouth more than makes up for his friend's silence. He's rather vain and a bit of a show off and doesn't seem to take much of anything seriously, but when the time comes, he'll step up to any challenge.

Jian Bai

Artemis wrote:
((This seems like a good spot to jump in))

Imbedded in the SWAT team is another member of HEAT, a woman named Jian Bai. It seemed she had known about the Sentinels for most of her life. Her father had been an engineer contracted to help use lumas in practical applications, applications that could have helped thousands of lives, and they had killed him for it. From that point forward, Jian had focused her life on eliminating the Sentinels, training and educating herself in order to combat them. In order to get revenge. And now, here she was, ready to take down another, for poor Joe.

((I'll stick up something more concrete in my character thread. Thinking of giving her a medical or engineering background, along with a bit of training in martial arts. I hope that's alright.))

Eira Baker


Stepping from the shadows, Sszinyon stalks through the dark maze of streets that make up the slums. There was little here, he knew, but no one watched this region. A scuffle on the main streets of Town would draw a crowd, but in these secluded back alleys one could work undisturbed. Now, if only he could find proper prey. The epidemic of undead was the trouble. It was true, the saturation of negative energy had allowed the drow to survive an encounter that should have killed him and granted him the superior strength and stamina that came with Vampirism, but it had also robbed him of the one thing he needed to continue: fresh blood. Yes, there was always the ichor liquor one could buy at Trog's, but drinking it, even heated to near boiling, was nothing compared to taking it direct from the vein. It was like comparing gruel to a fine filet. Unfortunately, no such meal could be seen, only the shuffling undead. Tasteless, bloodless, mindless creatures. Well, perhaps not entirely mindless. They had enough sense to leave the drow alone.

A frightened scream catches Sszinyon's attention and he quickens his pace, moving swiftly towards its source. There, a group of undead were gathered around someone, being barely kept at bay by a hastily swung longsword. Even from here, the drow could see it's wielder was unused to the blade. They would soon be devoured, unless...

A shadow within shadows, Sszinyon stepped up the the mob, drawing his twin swords. The silvered blades flashed in the moonlight, slicing through the undead flesh with practiced ease. Within moments, all that was left were twitching limbs strewn across the ground surrounding the living being they had meant to consume.

She was an elf, Sszinyon saw, badly scratched and cowering against the alley wall, her sword having been torn from her hands. Realizing she was no longer under attack, the woman looked up at the cloaked figure, scared and confused. Sszinyon knelt next to her and extended a hand.

"Do not be frightened. They will not bother you again."

The woman was surprised, perhaps a little shocked. She had thought there was no hope of escape, but now? Now Sszinyon was slowly helping her to her feet. He smiles, revealing pointed teeth. This made her worried and she tried to pull away, but the drow held both of her hands, firmly yet somewhat gently. He began speaking an incantation, which only terrified her more, until she realized the pain from her wounds was leaving, the scratches slowly healing with the aid of the spell. Confused, she stared up at Sszinyon.

" saved me." The elf stammered.

"I did." He admitted.


"Honestly, I am hungry." The blood left from her wounds made the vampire's mouth water.

The woman gasps in fear and began to cry. It had been too much to hope for, that she would survive. Coming out here had been a mistake. Although she had escaped the mob, she would now fall prey to this monster.

"Shh... Do not cry." Sszinyon encouraged her. "I only wish for a small taste."

"Please... no..." She begged as he pulled her close, licking the blood from her arm. It was like liquid gold. If only he could drink so well every night. Perhaps... just maybe he could. Sszinyon fought back the desire to sink his fangs into the elf's neck. She was, again, surprised when he did not.

"You know, it is not safe on the streets during times like these. Those without the proper protection could find themselves quickly overwhelmed." The drow observed, taking a small step back, but still holding the woman's hands.

"Like I was?"

"Yes, precisely."

"But, how can I defend myself against these monsters?"

"You do not have to."

"I... I don't understand."

"We both have troubles, I believe. You are not strong enough to survive this plague, while I am slowly starving. I can protect you, offer you shelter from all of this, but in return I ask for-"

"My blood." She finishes.

"Yes." Sszinyon lifted a hand to brush back her hair, revealing the line of her neck. "Is that too much to ask?"

The elf swallowed hard, scared, uncertain, but still seeing the logic in the deal. "No, but..."

"What is it, my dear? Do not be afraid."

"I... I have a daughter. I want her to be safe. Will you protect her as well?" She asked, desperately.

Sszinyon smiled, pleased by the information. "But of course, there is plenty of room for more."

For a moment, the woman's fear melted away and she stared hard at the drow. "You will not hurt her."

"I would not dream of it." He said hastily.

"Swear to me, you will not touch her, or gods help me, I will find a way to destroy you."

The vampire was a little taken aback by her boldness, but he found he could respect it. "I swear it. I will not harm her."

The elf breathed a sigh of relief. Although she was uncertain she could trust the drow, she knew this was probably the only hope of survival, for her and her daughter. "Thank you." She whispered, before collapsing into Sszinyon's arms, utterly exhausted by the night's ordeals. He picked her up with ease, and carried her off into the darkness.


Chandra Casey

A young human necromancer who has just arrived in Town. She's usually accompanied by a little back dragon wyrmling called 'Otto' who she thinks is absolutely adorable, but that's up for debate.

Tajir, Sci-fi

Tajir appears to be a normal, if somewhat athletic, young man. A quick chat with him would reveal he's a medical student, trying to learn as much as he can in the field of genetics. His time at school has given him a good base of knowledge when it comes to medicine, and he is surprisingly hady in a fight. Of course, there's something a bit off about him, particularly his eyes. They're such a strange golden-brown color...

Rosabella - Modern Town

This young woman is often found behind the bar at The Dark Note, her uncle's club. Not much else has been seen of her as of yet, but with her family, it's guaranteed she's not normal.

Kiara of House Caster, PbP

Bartholomew Thadius Cadbury Sue Edmundton Winsworth Berkely VI

Or just Cad, for short. He's a gnome. Yeah.

Dexter Cane - Modern Town

He's been tacked onto the the Town's police force as a consultant. Consulting on what, exactly, he's not sure. The higher ups just told him to be here. Dex is a very intelligent fellow, if lacking a bit on the common sense side of things. Has an interest in myths and paranormal studies, although it's more of a hobby. No one would take him serious if they thought he really believed in that stuff, right?

Fiorella Rosa Was chased into town by a pair of uniformed men wanting to bring her back. Back where? I'm not even sure yet, but she definately doesn't want to go.

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