Norington Ven'Aran the Hand of the Unseen, Bandit King of Hamsah Mu'tazz, Elite Imperial Shadow

Role

Chapter 7

The vote was cast and the Emperor was named. The Bandit King had a seat to
fill and more fame to gain. His glory was found in the Emperors triumphs.
There would be nothing to stop him from impressing the old Shadow Lord
strengthening the connection of loyalty from their days before the Throne
being filled. The War Master and Dread Lord each decided to visit their
Satanic Master and leave their seats empty. However, a new seat had also
been filled as well as the one for Shadow Lord.A half breed braggart named
Kjaz had been named High Priest. They seem to be quite incompetent and form
themselves as a wrench in the Imperial War machine. The battle with the
Haters of Magic had been an uphill battle but with true leadership from Sivyh
the Empire gained the high ground. He would not question the Emperors choice
of High Priest, but he would soon reveal to Sivyh that Kjaz had a truce with
the enemy. Flaaayin, the Drillmaster of the village people, had a truce with
the High Priest. What next, high elves giving back massages to the drow?
Norington would not stand for it. He had to convince Sivyh to let him trick
Kjaz into death so that justice could be served for a soon to be Anathema to
the Empire. Glory would come to the Empire and an unmarked grave would be
dug for Kjaz.

Role

Chapter 6

There was too much time in life, and being rich beyond imagination didn't
help pass that time. He was no closer finding that elfs cousin than finding
a fountain of youth. There had to be great suffering for the family of those
that slayed his family.He would bare the name Norington until he found the
right elf, but he gained the knowledge of notoriety. Blackclaw was too small
for him. No elves came looking around the Fort to do business, but the
seaport of Hamsah Mu'tazz intrigued him. If there's one thing the teaching
of Qaledus helped him with, it was the spending of coin to whet the taste
greed left in his mouth. The Shadow Lord lost his footing, and now was his
time to wear the crown in Hamsah. Money cannot buy happiness, but it's one
step closer to achieving revenge for the Ven'Aran family.

Role

Chapter 5

Step 1.
Find that elf Norington.

Step 2.
Draw and quarter him, show him still beating heart, yada yada.

Step 3.
Tiny, Iron Dagger to his face.

Step 4.
Repeat on all elves.

Role

Chapter 4

The elf walked out from his tent with damp hair and an amused look upon his
face. Norington was making him food.

"Trying to get on my good side are we?" said the elf.

"Anythin' to avoid the whippin, yuh'ol stink face," snickered Norington to
himself.

"As I still do not trust you, Ill make my own food, thank you. I dont wish
to eat bird poop or some such," said the elf as he slowly walked to the
opposite side of the fire away from Norington.

Beads of sweat gathered upon Noringtons forehead as he watched where the elf
placed his feet.
Three steps more.
Two steps.
Ahh..Perfection!

As the elf triggered the line Norington dove away from the fire as a cord of
sapling rope tore up from the ground below him pulling the wedge copper plate
towards the elf. Glowing red nails and razors launched at the elf ripping
into genitals, stomach, throat and eyes. The chains around Norington began
to heat up quickly but before they could burn him severely they suddenly
turned to ash and fell from him. He looked to the elf to see him motionless
and bleeding from his burned robes. There was a strange feeling of remorse
looking at the corpse but it soon faded as he stole all he could from the
corpse and packed them into a rucksack.With a few coin and a weeks walk he
would soon wind up in Hamsah to start a new adventure in life on the surface.

Role

Chapter 3

It took weeks to find a routine to the elf. He would always wake, pray, clean
himself, eat, and then whip him. It was easy to know when the whipping was
coming with the smell of cooked food. The elf had a collection of fine
razors and nails he would use when fashioning new campsites from animal
hides. There were too many to count so he would take one every two days with
hopes of the elf not noticing. He would keep a razor in his mouth and stick
the nails horizontally into the soles of his shoes. His boots became heavy
after a month. The day they strode into a forest of young birch was the day
the idea came to Norington. He kicked over a sapling and pulled off the bark
in narrow strips. He pulled on opposite lengths to test the tension and it
had quite a lot of spring to it. He had about two hours before the elf got
to the camp fire to cook his meal, and then it was whipping time. Removing
the nails from his boots he placed them in the fire with the points facing
up. It came to about twenty nails and three dull razors. Norington tied
about three feet of sapling bark together, still wet and green.The only
trees near the fire were five feet apart and six feet away from the fire. He
managed to stretch enough sapling bark between the two trees making a very
tight cord, almost like a giant bow string. Weaving more sapling together he
made a trip line near the fire to trigger a release between the trees sending
another line attached to copper eating plate he wedged at an angle into the
fire. All there was left to do was wait.

Role

Chapter 2

He woke up to the smell of burning wood. Something he had only smelled once
coming from the hall of the king. There are not a lot of trees growing in
the Underdark, and the majority of the heat was created from coal. He was
above the Underdark, there was only one explanation to the blinding light
above him coming through the trees. It was the sun. The feeling was euphoric
and for a moment he saw his father. He slowly rose to find himself in a
clearing of trees, camp fire at its center, and a chain upon his wrists
connecting to his ankles. "Wha, whas all this.." He thought to himself as he
looked around. An elf locked eyes with him as his head turned and slowly
began walking to him.

"What is your name, young black heart?"

"Ma name is Fark to ya, what are ya doin with meh?"

"Well then, Fark. Perhaps it is suitable we change your name as a new life
awaits outside of the darkness. Well lets see..Ah. Perhaps after my second
cousin, his name was Norington. A good soul. Then its settled," nodded the
elf as he looked to the confused duergar.

"Noring-wha? Yuh cousin a daisy sniffin fancy man?"

"Pardon me?" said the elf with narrowed eye brows.

"Wha in deh shite yuh going ta do with meh?" said the young duergar as he
shook his chains.

"You will be raised properly, and your soul will find redemption in the
heavens. You will be my personal servant from here on out, and you will learn
the true path and walk in the light."

"Ya know who killed ma pops, dont ya. Or did ya do it?"

"You will learn to forget, Norington." Said the elf as he pulled a coiled
whip from behind his cloak. He then began to lash Norington across the back.
as he might, the chains held him where he was and escape from the
punishment was impossible. The chains were definitely magical because as the
elf whipped him the chains grew heavier and when the punishment was over the
chains became light as a feather. "The only way youll get those chains off
is if I remove them or if I should perish in battle, however, this whip is
linked to the chains and if you should assault me those chains will turn
molten and you will surely die."

Role

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, deep within the Underdark, lived a slavemaster in the
township of AranGird. He kept the felar, gnomes, and svirfnebli in line as
they worked and they all feared him. All the slaves wore robes and were easy
to spot. All the easier to whip them. But one day, a group of men came right
through the front gate and into the slavemasters mine.They wore the robes
of slaves, but it was only a disguise. They came to kill duargar; Genocide.
The slavemaster faught, but died, and the strangers sent fire into the
citizens dwellings. The slavemasters son fled from his home and went
looking for his father.Once he found his father, it was only the unfamiliar
shape of a dismembered duergar wreathed in a pale white flame. A hand lay a
few yards away from corpse twitching and still tightly gripped onto a whip.
He rushed to the body but was unable to do anything as the flames left scars
upon his hands as he touched it. The pain was unimaginable; physical and
emotional. Crying out in pain he suddenly heard approaching feet.
"He is too young to be a threat, we will turn his mind from wickedness at the
surface," said a pious elf with a glowing white sword to a white hammer
wielding dwarf.Before he could react the dwarf was upon him with the hilt
of his hammer.

*THUNK*

And the world went black...

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