Deas Del'Asir the Student of Owaza, Imperial Shadow

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Role

Chapter 5

The Adventurers Of Thera - While they are of varied backgrounds and
beliefs, heroes or villains, they are mainly possessed of special
qualities that set them aside from those of their race. Something
about them simply allows them to rise to the top, allowing them to
make mere mockeries of obstacles that others could never begin to climb.
Unfortunately for Deas, he does not fit this mold. He is not, nor ever
was, a Drow noble, or renegade captain, or powerful wizard, no. He was
but a foot soldier, a mediocre, treacherous and yet incredibly fortunate
foot soldier.

His tale begins in the streets of Teth Azeleth, where Deas (then known as
Del'Asir) first struck down the path of treachery. For a simple sum of
six gold coins, Deas was convinced to grow lax in his duty as a guardsman
for house Tianroh, allowing an invasion upon his house a greater element
of surprise. A fools gambit indeed, considering the fact that house soldiers
have a short life expectancy during such invasions. As fate would have it,
house Bolezin fought back the invasion, and the treacherous Deas found himself
promoted out of sheer dumb luck. As it turned out, the drunken sop accidentally
thwarted a would-be assassin by falling off of a balcony straight onto the
spy.

Deas, now second in command of the guards and possessing his meager bribe, became
quite enamored with the arts of betrayal. However, the next time Deas set out to
betray his house, he unwittingly confessed his intent to one of the house's very
own agents! Needless to say, Deas was arrested and taken to be executed. However,
the one special trait Deas possessed, his luck, had other ideas. The actual story
of this escape is rather long winded, but suffice it to say that it had something
to do with a captured gnomish contraption, two greased up rothes and a rusty axe.

In the end, Deas managed to escape the city with his life, and his gold coins. In one
of the wisest choices of his thus far uninspiring life, Deas chose to make his way to
the surface world, one where he might find easier marks than he ever would have within
a city of Drow. His talents, mediocre by Drowish standards, have already allowed him
to put his swift and silent feet to use to begin training as an assassin.

Role

Chapter 4

There was little question that Deas would be drawn to the Empire.
No stranger to heirarchical systems, Deas is skilled in conjuring a mask of
servility. This does not mean that he would mind if say, Vehldriss was bound
and tortured mercilessly. Foolish as Deas may be at times, he simply isn't
stupid enough to let his disgust for her bluster and misanthropy show through
his mask. He has too much to gain from appealing to superiors, for now.

Along the same lines, Deas is no stranger to command. In his time as guard
captain, Deas learned the value of cowing subordinates, and he will certainly
put his underlings to work within the Empire. Their loyalty must be assured
and unquestionable if he is to secure his own rise to power. Deas is completely
aware of the two faces that he will show to his supposed allies, and is not
concerned or remorseful about any of it. He is, after all, a Dark Elf.

One of the reasons Deas seeks to rise to power is to sate his thirst for
treasures. Deas is, after all, a sucker for treasures who tried to sell out
his own house twice for a pittance of payment. He has been known to cross
powerful people or discard his own dignity in pursuit of obtaining things that
catch his eye. A band in a far off world will one day proclaim "in a world;role + where what we want is only what we want until it's ours." Clearly, this band
will have studied Deas when making this statement. He is ever seeking treasure,
and ever devious in his methods to obtain it.

Speaking of treasures, Deas had quite the difficulty obtaining them within the
restrictive and highly superstitious culture of the Drow. He has found pilfering
and looting much simpler on the surface. This has helped to fuel his keen and
malicious sense of superiority, his innate Drowish racism. Those of the other,
lesser races, as powerful or adept as they might think they are, will rarely if
ever amount to anything more than a means to accomplishing Deas' own goals. While
Deas will often speak of his superiority, he is also able to let others think they
are truly valued if necessary, for it will only solidify their loyalty. Deas,
afterall, is no stranger to pretense.

Role

Chapter 3

Having spent years of prosperity on the surface, Deas' fear of retribution from his old
house has begun to fade, and as such he has taken on his former name of Del'Asir as his
surname. It is an act of supreme hubris, as he fancies himself invincible, and to an
extent he believes himself a frightening figure. Surely none would willingly track this
prodigious pugilist down, at their own acute risk.

As Deas gains power, he has become increasingly imperious, even to allies. While some
may see this as a shift in personality, it is more of a doppler effect. Deas understands
the rewards of promotion, and that now he has some measure of power over a few precious
souls within the ranks. He also understands the fear he instills in some of the blades,
and will use it to his benefit whenever he wishes. He has done nothing to dispel the
illusion of deference to Vehldriss, but has hatched plans to utterly humiliate her when
the time is right. He has already showed her up in surpassing her paltry donations,
despite her advanced age. She certainly has it coming. Perhaps one of the younger shadows
will come in handy for this...or maybe one of his contacts within the spire. A few
of his...associates...are being groomed for loyalty, that they might be put to use in
one of his schemes eventually. Fortunately for Vehldriss, Deas has never been very
effective in hatching or carrying out schemes, else he'd never have arrived on the surface
to begin with.

Amazingly, Deas has managed to impress the guild of assassins enough for them to reveal
the secrets of the silent kill. He has begun to test his skill and guile in the drawn
out process of stalking his prey, but it is ever so difficult for him to keep his
avaricious mind at bay. In fact, Deas cannot resist the urge to steal frequent glances
at his prey, but not in the search for vulnerable points of attack. Truthfully, Deas is
taking repeated glances at the jingling coin, and the shining baubles they possess. The
one saving grace for Deas is that, as before, he is one of Thera's luckiest souls. That
he manages a killing stroke upon the culmination of his stalking is amazing, given his
complete obsession over the valuables he seeks to obtain. Deas has never heard of the
phrase 'It is better to be lucky than good' , but surely the phrase aptly pegs him. How
else could he assassinate a giant in cold blood in an echoing cavern with nary a shadow
to hide in? Surely Inger now knows the scope of Deas' good fortune.

Role

Chapter 2

It would seem that my patience and loyalty are finally about to pay off. The Emperor
spoke with me today about several things, including what he wishes of his most promising
shadow. He even once suggested that I might be a more suitable Shadow Lord than that vile
wench, Vehldriss. Of course, the time for that is yet in the future, but I have been preparing
for this for awhile. The beauty of it all is that Vehldriss believes me quite malleable and
controllable, if not completely loyal. The pretense of obsequity is one thing that I learned
in my time amongst my kin in that long past life as a house guard. It has served me well in
rising within the ranks of the shadows, as has the deadly grace I have inherited from my
ancestors. But I digress. My mind often strays to thoughts of mutiny against Vehldriss and her
undeserved sense of superiority. The fool believes me less capable simply because of my
masculinity, and it may yet be her downfall. It is too bad, for I might have found some pleasure
in the company of a female as cunning and avaricious as myself, but I know that the only joy I
will find is in her humiliation and disgrace. Death is too good for her.

What will happen when I become Shadow Lord? Time will tell, but I am setting myself up for
success as it were. With Vehldriss' order for me to begin recruiting other shadows, I have been
given free reign to seek those who I can most easily mold to my whim, and offer them the oath.
She has unwittingly given me the power to shape the future of what will soon enough be my sect.
What's more, I will be the one ensuring their loyalty to the Empire, and I will use that to
ensure their loyalty to me when Kostyan grants me my rightful dominion over the Shadow.

As I begin my third century of life, I realize how much I have grown. The foolhardy, brazen
youth who once thought that a few gold coins was worth a betrayal of his house has been left far
behind, and I am now left with a more cunning and thoughtful, yet still materialistic version of
myself. How I enjoy the treasures that are just ripe for my taking, and that have been taken over
the years. My heart rarely thumps as loudly as when I've uncovered another stash of artifacts for
my own perusal. If only I could keep my eyes off them for long enough to properly assess critical
weak points in the defenses of their guardians...but the treasures call to me more clearly than do
the exposed kidneys and ribs of my foes. Perhaps by my fourth century, I will have mastered my
avarice. For now, I am yet feared by many, and envied by more still. I am content for now, but
soon, yes soon I will ascend to greater glory. The road ahead is paved with the gold of unwilling
donors!

Role

Chapter 1

Once upon a midnight dreary, when the stars were weak and weary,
The battered corpse of a minotaur was dragged across the palace floor.
But what had slain the fearsome beast? His death was strange to say the least.

I know the story of that night, and if you listen I will strive
To tell you all what kind of fight left this bull no longer alive.

One day a bull of the hallowed village woke up and rolled right out of bed.
He recognized his shrine was pillaged, the empire had taken the head!
He fastened his armor, strapped his boots, prepared himself to head to war.
What a fearsome sight he must have been, a metal plated minotaur.

He lugged his bulk along the road, headed for battle in the east,
But his mind played with him and showed visions of his victory feast.
Looked to his left, looked to his right, and then he entered the gloomy palace,
And though no sound came in the night, there lurked a being full of malice.

The bull then struck the vanquisher, he hacked he slashed, he cleaved and sliced,
And the hidden figure knew for sure he had the villager in a vise.
He saw the gems, he saw the jewels the villager had chosen to wear,
How his heart leapt at the way the fool came charging in without a care.

As the bull finished his work, the cunning shadow sprung his trap.
He drove a sharpened silver fork through a crease in the bull's armored back.
The bovine's head sagged, his shoulders slumped, he toppled right into a door,
The two came down with quite a thump upon the tiled palace floor.

The victor worked quickly to conceal his kill, dragging the big bull out of sight,
He then climbed up upon a sill, intent on causing others fright.
One horn was cloven from the bull, in the aftermath of his great fall,
The shadow mounted it as a warning on the palace's front wall.
The other horn he keeps to this day, upon which lies a script most foreign.
A solemn reminder of the price one paid, "Woe is the mighty fallen Tauren."

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