Solraen Do'tlar the Risen Phoenix of Obscurities, Anathema to the Empire

PK Gank-O-Meter

Role

Chapter 12

The dark musings of the Father of Devils echoed in his ears as Solraen elegantly
strode out of the Mausoleum perched upon a delicate cliff that towered over the
Khalid River. He turned his adoring gaze north west and towards the gaping Maw of
the Infernal Domain of the Prince of Darkness, resisting the allure and beckoning
of the realm he had so intimately probed.

"You have a difficult road before you. You will have to be clever to overcome the
damage left behind you."

Again the words echoed in his mind and with a spark of irritation Solraen snapped
his attention back to the treacherous path that snaked itself down to the waiting
Mercenary who nervously waited for the return of the Risen Phoenix. A trumpeting
sound reached his ears as it echoed upon the winds and attracted his violet eyes
towards the Imperial Lands as a second mourning horn rose up to reverberate from
the surface of the flowing river.

Solraen turned his full attention to the spectacle beneath him, attuning his keen
and meticulous sight towards the dull, drab grey of the Palace in the distance as
the various slaves and Oaths began to lower the obnoxious banners that had been
woven with the Imperial Codex, a funeral procession departed the old Palace Gates
with the fleshly remains of Dhuzir Darkbeard, the late Emperor.

How curious, the dainty Drow thought to himself as he relished the passing events
taking place before him. Could this mean the last mortal of his own reign had now
turned into nothing more than ashes and dust?

... "You will have to be clever to overcome the damage left behind you." ...

With the Church long forgotten a new scheme began to take place in Solraen's mind,
and with time of the essence, he whispered his new destination to the frightful
Mercenary, whose eyes darted back and forth along the line of trees that bordered
the Dark Woods, and the pair set off to a much dryer climate to offer a new bargain
to the Unspoken One.

Role

Chapter 11

Salutations to my fabulous Elders of Do'tlar

How I despair at the cold shoulder I have received during the recent exile from
the Imperial Throne. Let us not even begin to mention the excommunication which
shook me to the foundation of my Faith. Hmm, quite an ordeal and an illuminating
lesson into the claims that Hell itself has no fury like a woman scorned. On the
contrary, a scorned woman can also be rather attractive, quivering with a barely
containable rage - but we digress from the subject at hand.

It is only due to my shameless seduction of a Highborn Elf that the circles of
summoning were able to be crafted strong enough to sever the bondage between the
Prince of Darkness and my dazzling self and reconnect my spiritual conduit with
the favoured Deity of our mysterious House. Now, without this redemption I would
simply lack the courage to send this courier to beg the assistance of you. Plans
stir in the shadows, my initial meeting with the Father of Devils was a success
in the mere fact that a crowned Emperor was able to leave the presence of such a
divine entity with his gorgeous head still attached to his somewhat muscular and
exotic shoulders. The exile from the Empire was an unexpected betrayal - but then
again, can one destined to pull and manipulate the ethereal strands that bind
the puppet to his Master ever endure his own strings being pulled? Hmm, an insult
to the myth and reputation of our fabled House.

So again, I boldly repeat my request and send this courier to herald my return to
the depths of the Underdark and within the banquet halls of House Do'tlar where
the future plans of our rise to the surface will be laid bare for your delicious
scrutiny.

Yours, truly yours.

Solraen Do'tlar the Risen Phoenix of Obscurities, Anathema to the Empire.

Role

Chapter 10

Salutations to my fabulous Elders of Do'tlar

Such a common phrase to be uttered by my prodigal lips. Why buy the cow when
you receive the milk for free? After flexing my ego and indulging in more than
a few showman-like temper tantrums I have found the Throne to chafe like the
loose, fat thighs of a milkmaid of butter and cream. While the influence is a
grand thing it draws the prying eyes of many who would scrutinise and share a
mind to disrupt our studies and progress into our return. The question still
stands however, since my coronation I have become both cow and milk itself, a
metaphor not to be mistaken with the defiled act of self-milking. I am drained
and constantly on show for Therans, unable to slink away and indulge myself in
the grip of passion that had once excited and aroused my mind. Politics, they
call them, the fickle whore of the uninspired. I have begun to understand now
why the ancient generation of Elders abandoned the ruling of Teth Azeleth and
left the gorgeous city to the wolves.

So I seek my own shroud of solitude, far from the prying ears and watchful eye
of Thera. The consorts of the Pharaoh and my magnificent Elemental of Flame as
my guardians as I defiled the Fortress time and time again, taking their one
Sacred Orb and using to to barter passage into a Plane of Shadow. However, it
is all not what it seems. The very act itself has brought us closer to a great
vault of Knowledge and influence that has slumbered throughout generations. It
is too early to discern the true affiliations of my discovery, but when it is
compared with the notes in our Great Library it is simply unmistakably a Church
that once reigned in the Shadows. Hmm, the Church of Shadows itself. Now that,
my dear Elders is a place that rivals even our grasp and dominion over a vast
realm of Mystery with all the power and influence of the Imperial Throne with
cord, Thera would be ours without the mundane sacrifice to our lavish lifestyle.

I simply ask you this, linger a while longer in House Do'tlar while I utilise
my new found influence to decipher this mystery, pull your cloaks high and be
the shadow themselves, let us not betray ourselves until the time is right, or
better yet - let us not betray ourselves at all.

Yours, truly yours.

Solraen Do'tlar, the Resurrected Phoenix, Seeker of Shadows, Emperor of Thera.

Role

Chapter 9

Salutations to my fabulous Elders of Do'tlar

As the mere seasons turn into years, you will find your spectacular son to
be flourishing upon the surface, single handedly carrying the affections of
the Empire upon such a perfectly sculpted set of shoulders. You may assume it
to be quite the burden but I assure you I take only pleasure from the somewhat
limitless things the armies of the Empire will do to indulge my whims.

However, this missive is not simply to state the perverse pleasure one gains as
the empowering force behind such a beast - this missive comes mingled with an
equal share of sorrow and possibility. The Great Conqueror and Iron Fist, the
Emperor Glikhardiz has taken his final breath as his weary eyes lingered upon
his proud and bloodied reflection. I will of course miss that aura of supreme
dominance he so casually enshrouded himself within, something I would assume to
be gained by bathing in the essence of thousands slain. We digress of course,
the true matter at hand lies in the emptiness of the Imperial Throne along with
the lingering eyes of the Council.

Igos the Brute, Jiouvesh the Splendid and Orzmus the Erotic, such affections do
I share with that mischievous and somewhat defiled Drow, I guess earning himself
the Devil's Mark at such a young standing has only increased his allure in my
infinitely dazzling eyes. The Vote was horridly inconvenient, I had so little
time in which to prepare myself and decide whether pursuing the Throne would be
worth the effort of extending our resources, or if we should simply remain to
be steadfast upon our path of resurrecting House Do'tlar to the glory it once
was.

The seeds planted were subtle. I did not even need to reach out to Orzmus for
I was quite sure our affections were mutual, instead I pondered aloud for the
ears of the Citizens and Shadows alike. Oh, poor Solraen, however would this
brooding Empire cope without his empowerment and affections. Certainly even a
dazzling, magnificent - somewhat barbaric Brute as Igos would recognise that an
Empire empowered by House Do'tlar was an assured Victory. Surely a mischievous
and flirtatious Priest of Greed would understand an Empire with connections to
the House Do'tlar would receive tenfold more than one without. Surely an erotic,
violent and somewhat indulgent slayer as Orzmus would understand the power he
could gain and fuel his dark desires with someone like the Phoenix of Do'tlar
indulging his whims.

Subtle ideas - comparisons to an Empire without yours truly and the resources
of you, my dazzling Elders has led us simply to the greatest foothold in Thera
since our recorded history. If I may advise you now, your other children are of
no further use, send them to grovel at my feet and we shall begin to weave an
illusion around the surface dwellers are we gather the ashes for our rebirth
into Thera.

Yours, truly yours.

Solraen Do'tlar, the Resurrected Phoenix, Emperor of Thera.

Role

Chapter 8

Salutations to my fabulous Elders of Do'tlar,

A small issue has arisen with the disappearance of the feared Dread Lord
Bakrmarr. The Empire has fallen into a disarray and the driving force behind
the expeditions to the Circles of Hell has dispersed entirely. The screaming
and tormented souls within the Seven Flurries of Anguish were instead devoured
by a rising aspirant known as Bheru. The Souls have proven to have a curious
affect upon the feeble Giant, where they rose Bakrmarr to a god-like status,
they reduced this trembling Giant to a quivering mess. His paranoia grew so
strong he resorted to asking constantly for the artefacts I have gained from
the accumulation of centuries of Knowledge, acquired by the delicate lash and
blood of countless minions. I entertained his thoughts a while, watching in a
perpetual state of amusement as he offered me the Realms that already lay deep
within my mysteries pocket and even the Imperial Throne itself. Hmm, a gorgeous
Emperor I would have made! What a foolish endeavour, the beautiful Brute had
crossed a line and feared betrayal. Instead of proving himself to me to earn
and bargain for the favour of Do'tlar, he exiled himself from the Empire and
of course, from my heart.

Instead we turn our attention to Hanraldis, a curious Transmuter who lives an
isolated life, exiled from Teth Azeleth for deeds he does not care to recall.
Hmm, how we adore the burdened strays! He speaks often about the Imperial Law
and redemption of the Arcane Sect and with the passing of Bakrmarr, has become
my longest ally and confidant upon the surface of this land. I entertain him
with promises of grandeur, a place of Advisor to the Throne if the desire to
rule ever tickles my fancy. Doubtful, of course, but his thirst for Knowledge
and ambitions to prove himself to my Love and Muse, Witch Ishuli earns him a
place of solace amongst me and with your permission, an ally of Do'tlar.

So the ambitions of House Do'tlar will bide their time as my Empire recovers
from the loss and deals with the exotic savages that have deemed it safe to
creep from the woodlands. I'll have to capture one and send it with my most
sincerest blessings to you, my fabulous Elders. You'd find amusement in the
various threats and accusations that spew forth from their filthy mouths. It
will provide light entertainment for the emissaries of Teth Azeleth next they
come to bargain for your aid.

Yours, truly yours

Solraen Do'tlar, the Flamboyant Phoenix, Imperial High Priest

Role

Chapter 7

Salutations to my fabulous Elders of Do'tlar,

I pen this missive as my absence from the table would suggest a betrayal
or failure of my tasks upon the surface. But oh, it could not be further
from the truth. I assure you, my spectacular Elders, the success of the
Phoenix generation will rise solely upon the back of my achievements.

Not only have found favour with the dazzling Muse of Knowledge, the Witch
Ishuli, I have twisted my fabled torturing Art and become more than adapt
within the Guild of Healers. It is quite a spectacular feeling, holding an
intimate power on my subjects, fuelling my burning desire by bleeding the
essence that sustains them. Hmm, I almost tremble at the thought of it! A
phrase of my dear Goddess has inspired me as I barter my indulgence while
empowering the whims of the foolish. Honey catches more flies. And how I
am adored by those I have chosen to empower.

My reputation within the Empire has caught the attention of the Unspoken
One, after my successful endeavours into the condemned depths of the dark
Inferno. I suspect the Mysteries of our fabled House Do'tlar has aroused
the Undead Lord and him rising me to the Council was an act of self greed
and the prospect of legendary treasures finding their way into the hands
of his Enslaved and therefore within his grasp. Though, one can not avoid
the whims of the Imperial God, I suspect his hoard of Mysteries holds some
information on the history of our House. We will be forced to act with a
greater caution as we convey the updated Histories of Thera.

Our first experiment was a complete success. The Dread Lord Bakrmarr was
eager to earn the favour of House Do'tlar, offering me such dazzling gifts
in order to earn my affection and trust. I indulged him, the Son of Rah as
I strode casually in his wake of destruction. So potent was the fear that
he inspired that the lands were flooded with an eerie silence and a number
of volunteers that trampled each other in their eagerness to be devoured by
Antaeus upon the Cliffs of Coyctus. Great discovered were made in the name
of the Empire in his name and the Knowledge gathered would even crown the
endless archives of our Libraries.

I will be returning soon, for a season of festivities, to bask in the glory
and lavishness of gorgeous House Do'tlar. Save for me, my dazzling Elders,
my favourite pet, for I am eager to indulge and be rewarded. For my return
marks the greatest success of your phoenix children, the others can simply
entertain me with their failures as I strut gracefully amongst you.

Yours, truly yours

Solraen Do'tlar, the Flamboyant Phoenix, Imperial High Priest

Role

Chapter 6

They say you never forget your first. To Solraen Do'tlar, the very
memory of his sustains him.

He was young, but his noble birth and superior mind made him one of
the most promising prospects of the phoenix children, so much so the
Elders allowed his flamboyant and utterly bizarre behaviour. In fact,
they encouraged it, knowing it proved unsettling for those that would
suffer at the macabre touch of his hand. Solraen had a very specific
gift and purpose, serving as a torturer and extractor of information
that would assist the House Do'tlar in their eventual rise from the
cavernous realms.

Then they bought her before him, a gorgeous elf, covered in her own
blood as she thrashed wildly against the iron chains that restrained
her. How primitively uncreative he thought as he moved closer to the
pitiful creature, brushing her burnished hair from her face.

It was all too seductive, part of his act. He would now play the role
of the saviour.

"Remove these foul things from our guest, I am sure she would like to
have a civil conversation with us."

She merely snorted at him, her face contorting with disgust while she
uttered some prayer to the profane lords of the Light, a blazing aura
of light surrounding her as it nourished her wound with a rejuvenating
caress.

Solraen watched in a profound awe as the gorgeous thing writhed before
him on the adamantite slab, a twisted idea forming from an ethereal
cloud of darkness in his mind. What followed could only be described
as macabre.

He experimented on her, taking her to the brink of death like a lover
in an intimate encounter and watched intently, waiting for her deity
to flare to life and cleanse her defiled flesh. Over and over, until a
quivering mess of a creature lay twisted and sprawled out before him.

He gazed into her shattered eyes and peered into the depths of her once
proud but now tormented spirit as she raised her chin in defiance. With
a remaining effort, she croaked in a hoarse whisper "Death will be my
solace from you, demon-spawn." She fell limp upon the slab as her last
breath escaped, attempting to free her soul from the torment she endured.

And then Solraen reached out a delicate hand, surrounding himself with
his own ethereal darkness as he caressed the flesh of the fallen elf in
scouring aura of light, tethering her soul once again to the living.

"Death is no escape from me, silly thing, your Knowledge will be mine."

"Now... Speak, my pretty pet, and I will release you."

Role

Chapter 5

For some reason the role has deleted itself. Just had to add it a
ninth time, keeping it in the same order. Hope it doesn't cause too
much confusion. (!!!!)

Role

Chapter 4

He killed him, of course. But the idea of this Empire haunted Solraen
for years to come. The idea of forbidden Knowledge and places beyond
this wretched hole in the ground were all too enticing for the young
drow. The idea of thousands of warriors gathered under one banner with
him at their helm was simply to arousing to ignore. Carefully devising
a cunning plan, he slipped from the illusionary domain of Do'tlar and
made his way swiftly to the surface realms. As he reaches the surface
and begins his quest, there are a few factors one should note:

1) Solraen Do'tlar, like the majority of his House was born under the
Sphere of Knowledge. It is an all consuming, insatiable creature within
him that drives to him excel and uncover any lore that would foolishly
conceal itself from him.

2) He is an Orderly Soul and his approach to life is both meticulous
and precise, knowing that the esoteric Knowledge he seeks is unbridled
power, he treats all intellectual pursuits with respect. Also, having
little respect for those of a Chaotic nature, he considers them to be
lowly creatures to use at a whim and dispose of once their purpose has
been fulfilled.

3) His time as interrogator taught him one thing. Hope is the key to
despair. When his original techniques of interrogating proved to be
fruitless, he begun dabbling in Healing. With his primitive ability
he was able to dispel the illusion that death would bring freedom and
leverage it to gather information from his captives. Having witnessed
the power of this ability, he has fully embraced the teachings of the
Guild and intends to barter with the Witch Ishuli for more powerful
prayers.

4) Having been raised in a non traditional environment, he is rather
peculiar for a drow. He shows a variety of traits that are in harsh
contradiction to popular belief. He is lustful and often flirtatious,
sarcastic and macabre and a little flamboyant in his encounters.

5) The name 'Solraen' was once translated to mean 'Disciple of the
Spider'. As he has since embraced the Goddess Ishuli and renounced
the Spider, he has developed an irrational fear of arachnids. He is
now completely faithful to the Witch Ishuli and seeks to exalt her in
his works.

6) He bears his House name proudly, taking the last name of Do'tlar
into Thera as a way of reconnecting the name of his once famous House
to the powers that rule the lands. He finds the idea of joining the
Empire and using their resources to fund his research very enticing.

Role

Chapter 3

A delicate drow entered the room, the faerie light that illuminated
the dull cell reflecting off his meticulously shaven scalp. He hid
an amused smiled as he eyed the shivering prisoners with a look of
pure ecstasy.

Oh how he loved to extract information from them. With a seductive
finger he beckoned the short, fat duergar towards him and almost
swooned as he witnessed the look of sheer terror upon his captive's
filthy but otherwise unremarkable face.

This was Solraen Do'tlar, the third child of what the Elders were
calling the Phoenix generation. They were quite aware at the sheer
offence the name would evoke in the hearts of the Light, it was a
fact they found most amusing. However, this generation was groomed
and instructed to gather Knowledge and information of the state of
the lands, so that the House Do'tlar could once again return to a
position of authority and power.

The filthy duergar followed the slender drow cautiously towards the
interrogation chamber, beads of sweat forming upon his forehead as
he eyes the instruments carefully arranged upon the adamantite slab.

Solraen crossed his legs delicately and motioned for the prisoner to
take his place upon the slab, turning to him with an almost seductive
glance and invited him to sit.

"By all means, take a seat my little pet."

He smiled to himself knowing he had broken the greedy little thing,
this was the day he had worked for. This was the day he would taste
the Knowledge that had been denied to him.

The duergar climbed gingerly upon the slab and tore open his tunic,
revealing a scarred torso and the emblem of the Imperial Codex.

"A'rite ya sick bastard, I'll be tellin' yer of da Empire. As lon'
as you keep dem damm hands off o' meh!"

Solraen folded his hands in his lap and began to listen.

To be continued...

Role

Chapter 2

Far from the city of Teth Azeleth, the new dwelling of the House
Do'tlar flourished in isolation. Generations of drow were raised
and dedicated to the pursuit of eldritch Knowledge and therefore
the eventual unlocking of unimaginable power.

But as the length of their segregation grew, they became less and
less in touch with the traits commonly associated with their kind.
In their presence they allowed both male and female equal access to
their resources, their insatiable pursuit and desire for Knowledge
transcending their need to hold on to ancient traditions.

It was not until they were disturbed by a group of raiders who had
stumbled into the Underdark in search of a peculiar fungus colony
that had sprouted deep amongst the stalagmites in the caverns, that
the Elders of the House Do'tlar realised it was time once again to
meddle in the affairs of the lands.

The raiders we captured, locked away and starved, their whimpering
cries barely heard amongst the cruel groaning of their cavernous
prison. They waited eagerly for their torturer to appear.

To be continued...

Role

Chapter 1

The Histories weave an intricate tale around the House Do'tlar,
neither condemning nor heralding the cause of the once fabled
House of Teth Azeleth. Their insatiable hunger for Knowledge
and irrefutable favour with the Goddess Lloth raised them to a
place of supreme power in the dark cavernous domain.

As the centuries past, their famished minds began delving deep
into the abyss of their obsessions, shifting their focus from
the insultingly dull political realms of their brethren so that
they could indulge completely in the esoteric power that came
with the pursuit of their forsaken Knowledge.

And this is where they earned their place in the Histories of
the drow.

As their appetite for Knowledge increased, so decreased their
desire to be tethered to the burdens of their civilisation. A
redundant House is swiftly devoured in the malicious city but
the House Do'tlar simply vanished.

The era that followed was wrought with violence and bloodshed
as the remaining Houses were caught up in the vast power vacuum
that was left in the wake of this sudden disappearance.

From that day forth the name of Do'tlar was translated to mean
'Walkers in Mysteries' and the drow never forgot the enigma of
the supreme House of Teth Azeleth.

To be continued...

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