Ilmav Dobluth Shebali the Battle-Scarred, Sheathed Blade

Role

Chapter 2

The life of a half-drow is not an easy one. But let's start not with what is,
but with what was. Ilmav's mother was a very minor priestess of Lloth. She
set out from Teth Azeleth on a raiding party to the surface, however she met
with great misfortune. An avalanche, something the drow are not familiar
with, caused her leg to be crushed. The males in the party saw it as a chance
to strike out on their own, away from the oppressive rule of the bitch they
so hated and left her to die. Die she did not, however, for some humans found
her. Not just any humans were they, but trappers out hunting exotic animals
to sell to the Palace of the Emperor of Thera in hopes of making a profit.
What more exotic animal was there than a beautiful and terrifying drow who
could not fight back? And so it was that Ilmav's mother became the plaything
of rich Imperials. It came to be that she became laden with pregnancy. A year
later the child was born. An abohorrent and dsigusting abomination of mixed
parentage which only reminded the priestess how pathetic she had come. In her
rage and anguish she lashed out at the child, attempting to destroy it, but
one of the guards snatched the baby up in order to protect his possession
which in time could turn a profit. It was too late, however, as a gruesome
slash was raked from eye to cheek. The child would never serve as a
prostitute like this. The priestess was beaten and caged that night, but it
would be her last night of torment. As the guards slept, secure in their
knowledge that their posession was safely locked in a cage, the priestess bit
her tongue off and bled to death. A rather sad ending to a once noble and
proud dark-elven priestess.

It would be many years of servitude for Ilmav as she grew up. One of pain and
hate and rage. The other slaves despised her and mistrusted her. Her masters
found her a curiousity, even a freak, and simply laughed at her as she was
made to serve. They named her whatever vile thing it was that her mother
screamed as she tried to slay her child. Menial labor, mostly construction
work as the high nobility would not want to look at her hideous face, filled
her days as she seethed. She was strong and lithe, able to climb and balance
where no normal human could. She felt superior during those times when she
was required to scale a wall or carry supplies along ropes to hard to reach
construction. Watching the blades from afar, Ilmav dreamed of battle,
conflict, and wars. Of the graceful dance of blades, a dance which called to
her singing their mellody of edges slicing through flesh, wood, metal. She
longed for that release of aggression, to lose herself in a world of whirling
blades, with hot blood spraying into the night. She knew the chance was slim,
what was she but a slave? She practiced what little she had to time to watch
the blades do and practiced on her own. Someday though... someday she would
heed the song of the crimsoned blade and dance to her hearts content.

Role

Chapter 1

The sneaking off from the slavemaster to fight paid off. Today one of the
Blades noticed Ilmav and allowed her to take the Bloodoath. Forever will her
destiny be changed to one of blood and glory for the mighty Empire! Indeed,
she would find many foes to fight having fought a defeated an assassin only
to be defeated by a fire giant shortly after. If this is the future that
Ilmav has found, then it is a pleasant one indeed! Let the enemies to Order
come, for Ilmav is here to lead the dance of death with them!

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