Hi everyone! I wanted to RP a Lolth-sworn, but like lots of people, I struggled to develop a backstory. I finally came up with this for Cembrye, my Drow bard! Welcome any comments or critiques. The idea was to provide her a reason to be on the surface plus some basis to act flexibly.
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“You came swiftly. That is well.”
Cembrye knelt at the foot of the priestess. Clad in the revealing black and silver garb of a Death Singer, bone-white skin marked by ebon tattoos, her lithe form still glistened from weapons practice.
Erelunhe peered closely at the young szarkai. Quite the beauty. And her skills were impeccable. Despite a flighty nature, and occasional impudence, the girl had risen fast in the ranks.
By command, outwardly she'd lived the life of a socialite. A fixture at all the best parties of the nobility. Unserious. Tongues wagged that the girl served Lliira, not Lolth.
This but cloaked her true destiny. She had been taken from the cradle, from the gutter of her origins, with one sacred purpose. To some day serve Lolth as one of the eyes and ears of The Eight.
It was high time to get her out of Menzoberranzan anyway – before Cembrye’s growing popularity made her the target for the assassins of every jealous matron in the city.
And so, by public decree, the Mistress of Arach-Tinilith had put things in motion. Cembrye would be attainted, and a story circulated that she had been secretly executed. All the party circles the girl had run in, all the nobles who had lusted for her, they would quickly move on. It was the way of things. Her low-born family, embarrassed by her public escapades, would mark her disappearance with a sigh of relief.
One door closed, so that another could open.
Enough pondering.
Erelunhe looked down at the kneeling girl. She pursed her lips. Would that there had been more time to complete her training. But time was now a luxury they could not afford.
“A great blasphemy unsettles the lands. The pestilence spreads. Even here, we are not safe from this heresy.”
“Command me, my Lady.”
“It is time to put your skills to the test. You will travel to the surface. Learn as much as you can of this seeping poison. In particular, you will discover the fate of an expedition sent by House Baenre - the particulars are in this envelope. If they are alive, join them in their mission. If not, report back to me – and only to me.”
Cembrye nodded.
“I will depart as soon as I have my markings removed.”
The priestess waved dismissively.
“But…my Lady. The surfacers won’t abide me.”
“You will see that they do. It is important you are seen by our enemies not as a threat, but as a potential ally. Do not question the Will of Lolth. Remember you are Her Chosen.”
Cembrye bowed and departed.
Inwardly, she felt like bursting. Finally, a chance to show what she could do. To rinse off the muck of commoner that still clung to her. To no longer be trapped by the color of her skin, and treated like a coddled freak.
She felt a twinge of nervousness. All her training had assumed she would be posing as a surface elf. And now she was to walk among her people's enemies not only as a Drow, but a spider-marked Drow? How would the surfacers react? What were they really like anyway? She had never seen a live one.
Have faith, she reminded herself. Erelunhe surely knew what she was doing. The priestess was harsh but fair. And her patronage was the only reason Cembrye was still alive.
Cembrye was too far away to hear the scream, then strangled gasp, that came from the room she had just left.
Arriving at the east gate an hour later, she took a deep breath and looked for a cart to take her to the portals.
Suddenly, she noticed she was all alone. At a gate that was usually teeming with travelers. Then came a blow to the back of her head.
Darkness took her. Strange dreams. Being carried. Laid inside some kind of bed. And then a sudden, excruciating, pain in her eye.
Last edited by Cembrye; 07/04/24 02:05 AM.
