MC:
Elys, The Surrogate of the Eminence of Elysia.
Drow Paragon Pseudonatural Cleric of Khtanid Lost Tradition Wizard Gestalt
Khtanid Domains: Strength, Knowledge, Magic, Order, Madness.
Lost Tradition Wizard used Wisdom as core ability.
+Drow CYOA
House Size: Medium
Position: Free Male
City: Trade Outpost
Artifacts:
Lich's Crow (White Eye), Orb of the Vengeful Banshee
Advantages:
Perfect Alignment, Paragon, Multi-Talented, Gender Imbalance, Powerful Blood, Undead Friend
Disadvantages:
Chatty Goddess, Potent Magic, Lolth's Interest, House Broken.
Allies:
Yllgych, Dana Pepperleaf, Gruzz, Ruzad, Strong Step
Enemies:
Tamlamaren
Events:
Potato Lord, Surface Journey, Halfway House, Gentleman's Club.
Outcomes:
Goddess Reforged, Epic Adventurer, World Above, To Even Stranger Worlds.
1-Wicked World
Drows are the most asinine of the races, whose collective survival instincts are as well developed as the common sense of a rabid lemming.
I should know well, I am one of them now.
Be it known, that I always paid my debts, and that I firmly believe in the expression that one good turn deserves another, however, the payment of a very old debt is starting to become one of the most tiresome and annoying of the many, many tasks that I had undertaken in the service of my father, the Outer God called Khtanid. From a pragmatic point of view, I understood the task that my father asked me to accomplish, but when I met the source of the task and experienced for a bit how much of a chore said task really was, I grew more and more tired of the mindbogglingly inane society of the so-called Drow and their utterly insane patron goddess.
Now, credit when it is due. In their stupidly evil attitudes, the society of the dark elves had become quite creative in the art of backstabbing the others. It was a pity to see brilliant minds twisted into spiteful morons obsessed with power, wealth, or whatever they could desire, while the leaders of the vast majority of the society; the Priestess of Lolth who also double as Matrons of their Noble Houses; are the worst collection of egomaniac schemers, cunning as hell, but with the obsession of pleasing a rabid goddess that will produce untold chaos and mayhem at the drop of a hat, that herself will throw with glee the next second.
It all began when another drow goddess, the moon dancer Elistraee, managed to set up an impressive ritual of high elven magic, the kind that has not been seen since the days of Imaskar and Netheril and hit the minor goddess of the drow called Kiaransalee, the Vengeful Banshee, provoking that everyone and everything on Faerun and beyond forgot about Kiaransalee. In a world like Toril, a deity without worshipers is a dead deity. All in all, it was quite a clever ploy, quite dangerous, because nothing says that such a spell can not be used again, however, the spell target had a characteristic that allowed her to survive. Barely, but survive nonetheless.
Kiaransalee, the Vengeful Banshee, goddess of undeath and vengeance was not a native goddess of Toril. Back in the day, Kiaransalee ascended from mortal drow to archlich, and from then, she abandoned her native plane and traveled to Toril, where she took the mantle of the Vengeful Banshee. Such outsider status was the flaw in the plan of the moon dancer, Kiaransalee, in the last second, was able to call in for a favor from her original plane, a call to the edges of the Far Realm and beyond, where my father picked it up and passed it to me. Mind you, that being an Outsider God, my father is way above the common deities of Faerun, and intervening directly, while possible, would also provoke way too much dimensional chaos. Contrary to what my uncle does, my father is as good as my uncle is evil, and in the end, my father decided not to smash the laws of reality. Instead, it was a golden chance to introduce a new factor to the chaotic mess that is the drow society, and maybe, give them the thin possibility of becoming something better.
It's a long shot in the dark, I wholeheartedly admit, alas, if the gambit works, it is well worth it.
So, my father asked me to meet this broken goddess, help her regain her power, and while I was at it, see if I could help the solar system called Realmspace to be an iota better in the grand scale of things.
Easier said than done.
One of the things that irked me the most is the fact that I have a goddess living in my head every moment, up to the point that I have the sensation that I can not even go to the loo without Kilee; as I call Kiaransalee for the sake of brevity; sending me a divine message to remember me to wash my hands. It's really annoying, but I also understood that Kilee, despite all her bluster and dark cold heart, is terrified of vanishing, she has only one worshiper, me, and she grabbed that connection with all her might. It took me a while to accustomed to having a permanent commentator on my head.
The beginnings were complicated, so much is true.
I was brought to a trade outpost that belonged to one of the connected cities of Undrek'thoz. The trade outpost was in permanent danger due to the connection to the Cold Sea, and the Aboleth enclaves down there. The trade outpost was the place where all the cities under the umbrella of Undrek'thoz made their business. Roughly twenty thousand free individuals with nearly fifty thousand slaves under their command. Sadly, the plans Kilee included me to be part of one of the Drow Houses under Matron Vertala, but by the time she dragged me into the Underdark, the house had been butchered in the eternal house war that plagued the Drow society. In other circumstances that would have left me as a slave, but the city of Undrek'thoz offered me the chance to join the mercenary company of Gruzz, the company that keeps most of the military of the trade outpost and defends the city from its constant threats, without the constant interference of the Lolth priestess.
Gruzz took me into his mercenary company, and I soon rose among the ranks due to two facts.
I have common sense, and I am the strongest spellcaster that they have ever seen. Drows, even the most sane ones, are not immune to greed and envy, and when it was clear that I was on my way to becoming the leader of the spellcasters at Gruzz company, more than one of my fellow coworkers started to get creative. Mind you, that among the drow, a dagger in the heart is a perfectly normal death by natural causes. I answered in kind and did some inspired executions, like dead by ghouls playing clapping with their balls, telekinesis into a shark bank, or straightforwardly ripping their arms and using them to beat them into a smear of the ground.
It was a fine evening entertainment, all the company prepared the snacks for the moment when I dealt with the next imbecile with a plan that tried to get rid of me.
Slowly, I instill some of my habits in the mercenary company, small praises to Kilee, thinking before acting, common sense, less backstabbing more communication, sure enough, drow will be drow, and everyone was still worried about the coin more than any moral conundrums, but by the first year of my service under Gruzz, I can say that the majority of the drow under his command had comprehend the benefits of do not shoving the dick on the pot.
Technically, the trade outpost was part of the city previously known as Sshurlynder, but it became part of Undrek'Thoz when they joined the coalition of cities. Comparatively speaking with the entire conglomerate the outpost was small. Three thousand drow and around ten thousand slaves of all kinds, with around three hundred non-drow settlers of the monster kind, and a monastery of a Thayan order called the Blackened Fist. Those were the main forces that kept the worst of the Matron mother's delusions in check.
Five great houses ruled over the outpost, originally six, but the one that was supposed to be mine went in flames the moment I walked into Toril, among the five great houses, Gruzz was technically under the command of House Murmuzz, and that means that I was also under the command of Matron Sadizza Murmuzz. That could spell more than one headache for me, the name of Kiaransalee was starting to make waves, and those waves made Lolth turn her head in my direction to ask some questions about what on the abyss was going on.
Much to my mixture of chagrin and relief, I had something akin to a carte blanche, in the form of a Yocholl called Yllgych. The strange and amorphous handmaiden of Lolth herself was glued to me, and with her presence, it was the equivalent of signaling to everyone that I had the favor of the Spider Queen herself. Yll found me in the Underdark, not soon after I arrived at this world, and well, latched to me with zealot devotion. Unfortunately, she is...unhinged in her actions and methods, and even if I know with a hundred percent certainty that she is loyal to me to the core, whenever she acts to help me, I end up with a lot more undead cohorts under my command.
Gruzz did not like Yll, heck, he despised the outsider, but the old mercenary was savvy enough to know that with a Yocholl as flag bearer, practically all of the Noble Houses of the outpost of Undrek' thoz would pay through the nose for the services of his company. Additionally, Gruzz will have to worry less about the unfortunate casualties that the Matrons liked to inflict on Gruzz mostly male armed forces whenever they are contracted. Speaking of which, the outpost was in a state of severe gender imbalance. Among the three thousand drow, around five hundred were male, and among those five hundred, two hundred belonged to Gruzz's mercenary company. Which led to some of the most demented shenanigans I have ever seen whenever a drow priestess wanted to scratch an itch.
The mercenary company numbered about five hundred able bodies, two hundred and some male drow, one hundred female, and one hundred slave fighters, with my small one hundred undead forces to round up the count. When we arrived back at the city after eliminating an orc warband down the middle of Underdark, we found the chaotic state of the city, something that made Gruzz curse the Nine Hells, knowing that we were about to be embroidered in the latest ploys of the Matron Houses, for we are the biggest military forces on the city, and worst of all, the ones in possession of the biggest number of males.
As if an army of thirsty females were not enough, the trade outpost was way too close to an Aboleth brood. An Elder Aboleth, three smaller ones, and an unknown amount of slaves. To add even more to the plate, just in front of the city, on the other side of the Cold Sea, there was an orc enclave that bypassed the numbers of the city three to one. Add to that the numerous lethal fauna and monsters, the Mind flayers mingling around in the city, the pirates under Captain Tamlamaren, and who knows what else was sniffing around the city, eager to add fresh drow meat to the menu.
"This Is rotheshit".
Gruzz resumed the entire situation better than I could ever could.
"I agree", I shrugged, nursing a glass of wine in my hand.
"And that's why you should focus on spreading my cult, with my cult at the top, this entire situation would have never happened". As always, Kilee needed to add her two cents to the conversation. With a practiced series of mental platitudes in her direction, I focused on the task at hand.
Gruzz's frustration was entirely understandable, the moment that the mercenary company arrived at the borders of the city, they had barely been able to set up camp, and they were already besieged by the factions of the city trying to gain them over. Two dozen men were seen being ordered by Lolth priestess into the city, and very few among us have the hope of seeing the lads again. Not to mention how the decks of the city were maintained by slaves who had zero protection against the usual kidnappings, and the roads outside the city were practically besieged by orcs. Food was starting to become a problem.
Inside Gruzz's tent stood his inner circle, so to speak, Gruzz was a drow, meaning that he did not trust anyone entirely, but, those inside of the tent right now were those who earned his professional respect.
Ruzard, the druid that accompanied and guided our forces outside of the city, Strong Step, the minotaur that commanded the slave forces, and me, Elys, the leader of the spellcasters and clerics among the mercenaries. Not that numerous, believe me.
"This bode ill for your troops, and you", added Strong Step, turning his bovine head at me. "Pureblooded mages would be highly sought by the local females".
"All pureblood", sightly corrected my minotaur friend. "With such an imbalance in the city, it is hardly a surprise, I don't even want to know how in the Nine Hells they managed to end like that".
"Another reason to redouble your efforts in raising my cult", smugly added Kilee, "if they were under my aegis, no house would want them, Lolth is a bitch that does not share".
"Twelve in less than three fucking hours", massaged his head Gruzz, before picking up one of his cigars and losing himself for a couple of seconds in the smoke. "I am witnessing my company being stolen from me in front of my noses and I can not do shit about it".
"And this is why I like my mushrooms forest most", chuckled Ruzad, leaning on one of the poles of the tent. "Myconids are far more reasonable and sane than us".
"Well, we can always make haste out of the city", I emptied my glass and made it vanish into a pocket of my jacket.
"Absolutely not", protested Kilee, "This is the perfect place to reignite my cult".
"If only", snorted Gruzz from behind the smoke of his cigar. "You know the logistics as well as me Elys, If it wasn't for your undead we would be orc chow by now. The troops need new weapons, armor, supplies, and food, not to mention that I will be dammed if I am not fucking paid for the orcs that we kill".
"Just an idea, boss", I raised my hands in the air. "I need coin as much as the next drow, but either we run out of this honey trap, or we start seeking out a new profession".
"Or you join a House", pointed out Ruzad, even if his face grimaced at what he had just said.
"Not entirely a bad idea", As soon as I said those words I crossed my arms in a peaceful gesture, "Hear me out first, boss", Gruzz frowned at the idea of serving anyone. "The five houses are a collection of screeching harpies and we are the latest fresh meat on the menu".
"Crude, but accurate", laughed Ruzard and Strong Step snorted in amusement.
"Five Houses, roughly five hundred morons per house, and close to a thousand slave troops, all of the houses in serious need of real pureblood drow troops, and suddenly, Lolth be dammed, two hundred and some males walked into the city, of course, the competition is going to be bloody fierce", I resumed. "All houses will do all they could to chew the biggest piece of the fresh meat, you have already seen it, twelve poor sods dragged by Lolth priestess, pray Kiaransalee that their fate will be swift".
"However, if we put all eggs in one basket", I continued my explanation, "we may survive the slaughter time enough to get our dues, pack lightly, and get the hell out of this nightmare".
"How?", simply asked Gruzz.
"We seek out the strongest house, put ourselves under their service", I explained, "now the house is a thousand strong, with the biggest number of males at their service, their status as first house all but granted, we kept ourselves on the low, endure for a decade or so, and when things went back to normal, we pick up a contract with a trading caravan, gather our belongings, pack lightly, and get the hell out of this hellhole".
"I admit that my opinion on your kin is less than favorable", Strong Step sounded pretty confused, "but why would your men follow you after a decade of being surrounded by avid females?".
"There is something that both drow males and slaves have in common", I answered the inquiry of Strong Step, "both know intimately the touch of the accursed whip of fangs".
"Oh", simply answered the minotaur, understanding my meaning.