Disclaimer: mature themes, dark, violence
Kendris, Illeshrea-thanks for the reviews, it's nice to know someone's enjoying the story.
Heritage of Evil : Acceptance
+Shevarash
Shevarash (shev-uh-rash), the elven god of vengeance, loss, and hatred of the drow, is chaotic neutral. His titles include the Black Archer and the Night Hunter. He was once a mortal elf whose family and friends were brutally killed during a drow attack. He swore vengeance, and he spent the rest of his life hunting drow and raiding their cities. Such was his dedication, that he was made a god after his death. His worshipers follow in his footsteps, swearing to destroy the hated drow and fearlessly hunting them down even at the doorsteps of their own cities. The domains associated with him are Chaos, Elf, Retribution, and War, and his favored weapon is the longbow.
"There, see?" Shann said, brushing some pastry crumbs off her hands, and pointing to an entry in the lore book on elven deities. "That's a god I can follow. Don't you agree, Jarond?" she asked the frowning halfling youth who sat by her in the thieves guild kitchen.
"You know how I feel about your obsession with killing your former Drow masters," he answered. "You've been free for over five years; it's time you stopped letting your past control you. I think you would be better off with a less bloodthirsty deity. Didn't you say your family worshipped Ilmater?"
"What a waste of time that was," she exclaimed, ignoring Jarond's pained look at her impious remarks. "Grandmother worshipped Ilmater for years, ever since that cleric of his befriended her after she was sold to the Drow by her Duergar clan. Mother accepted Ilmater too, but I know better. I will not accept suffering, I will make others suffer instead."
"I don't know if Shevarash would accept your worship considering that you're half ... " Jarond almost said the word 'Drow', but his voice trailed off when he saw his friend's hands start to clench.
"I am not!" Shann said as she slammed the book shut. "It doesn't matter, I want to kill Drow, and Shevarash will approve of that."
"It's obvious you don't care what I think," Jarond said. He scowled as he forced himself to eat, and scrutinized Shann. "Why are you really here? Your studies with that deviant mage don't leave you much time for pointless socializing."
"Alright," she sighed. "Arboral's up to something with some high government official named Reiltar Anchev. I'm afraid it's starting to cross over into Arboral's personal life, and might affect me. What does the guild rumour mill know about this Anchev?"
Jarond sat for a moment, sifting through the various bits of information he had memorized from the guild files. "Anchev is a highly respected member of society," he said slowly. "Though it is amazing how many obstacles to his advancement disappear. More than one of his political opponents has resigned due to scandal or health reasons," he added wryly.
"Then this Reiltar could be dangerous," she said thoughtfully. "If Arboral is gaining in power, and influence, with the corrupt elite of Baldur's Gate, he won't need to keep me as his apprentice for much longer." I'll have to watch this partnership carefully.
It was not long before Shann was able to judge Anchev for herself when he came to visit Arboral. Anchev had not tried to keep his association with the mage secret, and even brought his son with him when he came to Arboral's home. Shann had been left to entertain the boy while her tutor and the boy's father disappeared into Arboral's study. She stood in the middle of the room, and glared at the young man in front of her.
"There's no reason to be angry with me, apprentice," the boy said, half-grinning as he looked at her. "I don't even know why Reiltar dragged me here in the first place."
"I have much better ways to spend my time than catering to some lordling," she said, but decided there was no point in being hostile. "What is your name anyway? And why do you call your father by his first name?"
"He's not my father," the boy said quickly. "That is, he's my foster father. I'm Sarevok Anchev. Do you have a name other than apprentice, kid?"
"I'm not a kid! I'm nearly fourteen and you can't be more than a year or two older than me." She scowled as she looked at him, and then decided she may as well tell him the name she had chosen to call herself by. "I'm Shann Drowkiller," She said proudly.
"Drowkiller, really?" He drawled. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Sarevok said bowing with an exaggerated flourish. He looked up with a gleam in his eye. "Your Master Arboral seems like a real charmer."
"Yes he is," Shann agreed. "Almost as charming as that Reiltar Anchev. I'll bet Reiltar's a right bastard same as Arboral."
Few things draw people closer together than the chance to trade horror stories about the people who have control over their lives. Reiltar often brought Sarevok when he visited Arboral. As far as the two youths could tell, Reiltar was using Sarevok to cover the immoral and illegal business he was using Arboral's magic skills to conduct. Anyone following Reiltar's movements would be unlikely to suspect the man of dragging his foster son with him while he engaged in wrongdoing. As a result, Shann and Sarevok became friends. Shann was impressed by Sarevok's sense of justice and desire to someday fight against the corruption of officials like Reiltar. Sarevok was saddened when, just a couple of months after they met, Shann let him know she would soon be leaving.
"I've just about learned all I need from Arboral," she stated. Plus, I'm getting too old to interest him, he rarely touches me now at night, soon he'll start thinking about getting rid of me. "I'll be leaving to go home."
"Where is home?" Sarevok asked curiously; Shann had never told him of her past.
"Up north," she said evasively. "I used to be a slave. I'm going home to kill my former masters."
"You could probably do it too," Sarevok said admiringly. "If you don't get yourself killed, maybe you can come back and work for me in a few years."
On the night Shann determined to leave, she added a sleeping draught to the wine Arboral always demanded she bring him in his study. His wards will detect a poison, but not a harmless drug like this, she reasoned as she handed the goblet to the mage. Arboral absently accepted the drink, and turned back to studying his account books, once again adding up the value of his various investments.
Shann went over to the bookcase, and stood there scanning the titles while keeping one eye on Arboral. He soon started to nod, and dropped his head on his arms as he fell asleep. Shann waited a moment, half afraid he had detected her treachery, and was feigning sleep. Finally, she walked up to him and shook him roughly, relieved when he made no sign of coming awake. She drew a small dagger from beneath her tunic, and pulled the mage's head back, exposing his throat.
The knife shook and almost fell from the girl's hands. Shann's eyes were wide with excitement, but she could not bring herself to make the killing stroke. I don't have a reason to do this, I made an agreement with the mage, and Arboral fulfilled his side of the bargain.
She was almost out of the room, when she hesistated and looked back. I'm being weak, I hate Arboral, and if I kill him, I will prove myself stronger than him. There are other ways to kill, if I can't bring myself to slit his throat with my own hands. She stepped back, and looked around the room a moment, before moving over to the cabinet where the dangerous potions were kept locked up. The lock was easy for Shann to pick, and she took out two orange coloured potions.
She opened one vial, and carefully poured the liquid over the sleeping mage, soaking his heavy robes. Satisfied, Shann walked out of the study, and then turned around and threw the second vial at the floor beside Arboral. She started running before the potion hit the floor, and was half-way down the hall when an explosion shook the room behind her. She turned to see the glow of flames starting to fill the study, and smiled.
Shann left Baldur's Gate quietly, hoping her friends would not think she was dead in the fire that swept through Arboral's house, but not stopping to let anyone know she had not died with her master. She looked forwards to the trip that would take her back to the place she had been born, knowing she was much stronger than she had been when she left, and would be even more powerful by the time she reached the N'evarn colony.
The roads between settlements were filled with hungry bandits, and Shann passed more than one group unseen. She sometimes amused herself by raiding the camps of the thieves, until she realized there was a better use for the desperate outlaws. If I am to track and kill the Drow, she reasoned, I need to find the best ways to take out an opponent. Arboral's death had made Shann feel a little guilty, but the main emotions she had felt were pride, and joy. Now, she realized she wanted to feel that way again.
The next group of outlaws Shann came across was a small one, consisting of four poorly equipped men. She watched them silently for a few days, seeing how they fought when two travelling peasants crossed their paths, one peasant died, but the other was allowed to limp on his way, followed by the harsh laughter of the robbers. They are murderers, I have every right to kill them.
That night, Shann crept up to the bandits' camp, using her night vision to watch them from behind a thick bush. The fire was a bright spot that danced in Shann's sight, almost making her forget to watch the duller shapes that encircled it. Patiently, she watched all four men fall asleep, and waited until one of them woke and staggered out of the camp on his way to the hole that served as the camp's latrine.
Excitement made Shann tremble as she followed her target, eager to see how well her plan worked. Whispering the words, she cast a spell of silence at the bandit. He did not notice the spell, and had no idea he was in danger, until Shann rushed forwards and drove her dagger into the back of his knee as she knocked him over. He fell down in agony, but when he tried to scream, no sound could be heard. He fumbled for his sword, but the small figure with the bright red eyes slit his throat before he could do more than grasp its hilt.
Breathing heavily, Shann stood there, amazed at how easy it had been to kill. She looked towards the camp, and moved forwards. Satisfaction marked her face; she was happy because this murder had been done with her own hands, and the scent of her foe's blood filled her head with an intoxicating fragrance. I am strong, and killing my enemies will make me stronger. Father was right.
Shevarash entry from: A Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting Web Enhancement by Thomas E. Rinschler