Narissorin S'sambra the Unfettered Enigma of Masochism, Chancellor of Eternal Night

Role

Chapter 10

Drekvah stepped forth from the church, settling down to rest himself while
the dead thing inside worked tireless. It was only a few hours of quiet
meditation, Narissorin sitting in the nearby shadows, not hidden but silent
and watchful all the same. The lich, a high priest likely be it's own
administration, stepped forth from the depths of the chapel and approached
Drekvah. Handing him a small flask, it stepped back to watch, Narissorin also
watched as Drekvah swallowed the contents without another moment. The time of
truth was neigh. The drow collapsed to the ground, soundless, wordless, and
motionless for a short time before struggling back to it's feet... already
beginning to look pale. They made their way out of the vale, away from the
church, and towards the chasm as Narissorin's thoughts were a jumble.

Davarrah wished a suitable creation to survive the trials ahead, into the
shadowy recesses of the forbidden. Narissorin had positioned himself
perfectly, if the lich failed and crumbled under the onslaught, Narissorin
would simply walk away and find another. If the creature succeeded and
survived, the lost knowledge would be at his fingertips as promised. No
matter the outcome, riding himself of a dangerous adversary within the Chasm,
or gaining unknown control over unfathomable energies to solidify his current
station. Yes, Davarrah's plan would be met, and the Chasm's resources were
now available to her, or it, whatever the Ravenous might be.

Role

Chapter 9

Memory whirled as he stood outside the consortium of magi. A realization of
sorts dawned upon him in what could only be described as a god given moment
of absolute clarity. Stretching out his arms he began to concentrate, pulling
the fetid creatures from his soul. He had discovered within the lion, the
copperhead, the falcon, perhaps he could combine them at the very moment he
began to mold. The melding began before he realized theory was being put into
practice, oh the excruciating pain! Snapping, crunching, twisting and
ripping, blood and puss, and then there was silence. The screams he
remembered flowing from his mouth were gone, and the night time insects began
to resume there cacophony of songs. The shifting was strange, more painful
than the rest, put he could feel the differences and knew somehow what he had
become. The lion's head was sickly, not a whole shift, and neither the falcon
nor the copperhead survived wholly, though the reptilian counterpoint was
stronger and he also had a dragons head. And to the side was the small shaggy
head of a goat, it was hardest to feel and control, wild eyed and uncertain.
With a blast of fire, and a roar, the chimera thrust it's goat hind legs into
the dirt and leapt off to continue what it's original intent moments before
was.

Role

Chapter 8

The crossbow thrummed as a purple quarrel sank into soft shoulder flesh. A
look of surprised pain was replaced surprised confusion as the wounded bard
dissolved into mist and then nothing to be transported away. Narissorin
turned slowly away from the spectacle to face his lord, the holder of
mysteries and forbidden knowledge, the Eye himself. The Queen had attempted
to take him away, the promise of power almost too great for Narissorin to
resist and yet he held to the Eye. Though now, face to face with his Lord he
realized that his life could very well be forfeit if the Secret of the Void
was cross with him. His Lord reached out to take his hands, and Narissorin
did not pull away. The hideous marks upon the back of his right hand smoothed
and disappeared, the enchantment by the Archmagus of Ni'ewa Uhlruul partially
broken by the Eye in the Darkness!

How things had suddenly changed, with such a simple gesture. Staring at the
writhing shadows encircling the eye upon the back of his right hand,
Narissorin could not help but wonder how this would affect what had been
placed within him. So long ago his soul had been bound, the power flowing
into him from one of the most dangerous magicians the underdark had ever
seen, and now that binding was linked with a God. Not only a god, for he
could also feel the pull of the scepter, ever the darkness wanted more. He
was now torn inexplicably by three powerful entities, some may take this as
the worst of situations or even signs. And yet he was thrilled! Bound by
three forces of unspeakable power, and taunted and tantalized by a fourth
with promises and pain. Only one whom never ended his strive for more would
see the benefit in this dangerous dance.

Role

Chapter 7

Piceous colored flesh split like soft silk before the razor edge of the
Queen's blade. Narissorin looked down and couldn't hide his disbelief at the
absence of pain. All eyes were on him, watching his blood flow freely to
slowly pool at their feet. The wicked gaze of his Queen, gleeful and hungry.
The stolid silent watching eyes of the Secret. The Archmage, glowering and
disapproving. The Advisor, obviously depressed at his own failure. And
finally Zameida, along with a slew of silent Ccul'gra that must be feeding of
his fading energy and growing worry.

As he swooned and crumpled, his knees slamming hard into the cold stone floor
of the Shroud, one thing suddenly flashed into absolute clarity. The
hypothesis fell upon him like dusk, the black blood grasping his gaze and
holding it. It was the dilution of his blood, this is where the secret lay.
The obvious complexity of his twisted heritage would enable that very blood
the capability absorb the energies he obsessed over. As quickly as
understanding had come upon him, it was gone only to be replaced by cold
darkness.

Narissorin awoke, his flesh tingled, small hairs standing on edge. Everything
felt vivid and wrong, stained and corrupt. As he rose to stand, facing those
whom had gazed at him in unbridled hunger and contempt, Narissorin felt
complete. The wrong he felt could only be one thing, the change he felt
between himself and the ebony scepter. It accepted him and it gave him
slightly more than the rest. As he straightened his robes he began to piece
together the integral components that would be necessary.

Role

Chapter 6

The peaceful tranquility of a perfect day was broken by the high pitched
screech, diving out of the beautiful blue sky with increasing speed was a
sleek falcon! Crashing into the arial, the falcon screeched piercingly as it
clawed and pecked. Suddenly the feathers thinned, wings stretching and
lengthening, sharp talons thickening into even sharper clawed paws! The small
curved beak broke apart, a lions maw seeming to grow from within. In the
briefest moment the quick darting falcon had become the revered king of
beasts, an enormous roaring lion! Swiping with dangerous intent the lion
clawed brutally at the thin arial. Before moments the ranger lay broken and
bleeding in the middle of the road. Licking the blood from his paw, the lion
circled the body once, sniffing it, then moved off down the long eastern
road.

Narissorin opened his eyes. The rough respite had been just what he needed to
replenish his thoughts, letting the manipulations spread to his whole body
was never easy. Grunting with the physical effort, he rolled over and pushed
himself off this rough straw bed. For as much grandeur as the Empress put
into her palace, she left the rest of the city sorely lacking. As Narissorin
moved slowly across the expanse of the shapeshifters guildhall something
tickled the back of his neck. What a strange sensation he thought as he spun
and began to ready his mind for the transformation. Hovering just beyond the
torchlight was a phantasm, and as it beckoned him closer he realized its
likeness was that of the poor weakling he had just bled dry on the eastern
road. The ethereal began to inquire of Narissorin, the resonating power
bespoke of something greater than a mere mortal. And then the realization
slapped him, this was his god! Narissorin continued to listen to the vessel
the hints of power made the hair on his arms stand on edge. Dealing with the
immortals may intimidate many, and perhaps it did intimidate him slightly,
but the promise of so much power outweighed the dangers.



The spirit faded into the air, leaving an unnatural chill to fill its
absence. Rubbing his arms Narissorin turned back to shamble over to the straw
pallet. He laid back down, giving his body the rest it needed would be
paramount. The time to plan accordingly would do him well, also.

Role

Chapter 5

As I lay ink to my discoveries, I can not help but contemplate what has
transpired.

My tortured life has been far from easy, and yet with a dangerous
manipulation the sorcery was unleashed upon his very soul. There was no
question this gamble could have ended in his demise easily enough. But it
hadn't, and the distance Narissorin had placed to keep free of Ni'ewa
Uhlruul's Archmagus had been great. It would be years before he was found, if
at all. This would be more than enough time to let the writhing energy he
felt within coalesce into something more dangerous, it had already solidified
to his ultimate glee.

But now the change, there was something unseen flittering on the edge of his
vision. No, not just his vision but on the very edge of his other senses,
even those senses that were not fully understood. It was as if something
stalked him, waiting for the moment to strike, and he could just vaguely
notice glimpses of where it had been. Such Dangerous powers of the
supernatural were most often written of as superstition, Narrisorin though
knew better. It was time to face this dark glamor and draw upon it to prepare
himself for the coming.

Role

Chapter 4

Lurid images mixed with feint emotion as the dreams clasped tighter to his
wandering subconscious. Pulses of energy materialized into a myriad of
colors, each pulse showing a deeper complexity of shades than the last.
Suddenly he saw himself, it could not be a reflection, was this truly a
dream? His long dark hair, once collected into a loose ponytail, began to
melt away. His olive complication, light growth of facial hair and all,
suddenly twist and lengthen. Eyes slanting, pupils drawing close until they
are fine slits. As the long thin forked tongue flicks, lightning quick,
feathers sprout from where scales had just been. The blunt nose turns hard
and sharp, a beak. Slanted pupils melt until they are round, large eyes
staring forth from a circular head. The head turns almost almost completely
around, before spinning back. The owl straightens fully and expands its wings
fully, absence spreads from the wings until there is nothingness.

And then, from deep within the oblivion, two small red eyes flick open.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Narissorin began the effort of calming
himself through the strength of his will alone. Since the promised power had
defiled him from within, Narissorin's dream had been almost the same every
eve. The full twisting which had matured into waking power, had also infected
every moment of his rest with mixed imagery. Many times he had dreamed of
striking out at the faceless who would stand in his rise to full power,
mocking his blood. But this time was abnormal, vivid, and unsettling.
Certainly there must be some omen to such a solid dream. Shifting his
makeshift bedding, Narissorin twisted and attempted to find comfort to once
again find these strange dreams. Perhaps there was something more telling
within.

Role

Chapter 3

Uneven stone passages, twisting and bending, gave way to the even cuts of man
made tunnels. Narissorin tumbled free of the underdark. His stomach twisting
in knots of starvation, bruised and bloodied skin showing through various
rips and rends in his once pristine robes. Free! He was free to find his own
path and power, free of the half-human mark upon his soul.

He made his way into the city proper, Galadon it was called. Trading what few
gems he had come across during his journey he was able to find food to
survive, new apparel to adorn himself with, and a residence within what these
surface people called the shapeshifters guild. Apparently they have
discovered more than the simplistic enchantments to weaponize ones natural
body, those enchantments were his small leverage for survival below.

Before long Narissorin was a young member of this shapeshifters guild. He
could feel the twisting invocation fermenting within, but there must be more.
He had taken the first step to free himself from the stigma of his birth, he
could not stumble along the path now, he must hasten, hurry and scurry along.
This constant search brought to him whispers of the omens of eternal night.

Role

Chapter 2

Pulling the purple robes close to his slender body, Ni'ewa Uhlruul's
archmagus swirled to face this audacious interloper. A half-breed, here in
his abode, he could almost feel the disgust thickening the very air. A simple
counter-clockwise motion, thumb and pinky touching just so, and this brazen
young half-human would be dust. But then this impudent creature began to
speak.

Narissorin had to be quick, offering his eternal service, or else this
perilous situation would turn against him and he would likely end up worse
than dead. The archmage bound an enchantment to his very soul, which
Narissorin had to open himself completely, trust the magus completely or it
would not fasten properly to his essence.

It was done, Narissorin stumbled from the hollowed out stalagmite on the
brink of absolute exhaustion. How easy it had been, though the endowment
within must fester and spread. The true power would show itself when his body
aged and strengthened enough to support such a strenuous change. Though
Narissorin would not be anywhere near Ni'ewa Uhlruul when that happened. He
could feel the small trickle of power flowing through his veins already,
easily enough to traverse the tunnels unseen and escape to the surface. Out
of the dangerous reach of the Archmagus.

Role

Chapter 1

Perennial gloom presses incessantly upon any adventurers senseless enough to
chance these underdark tunnels. Still waters give a false sense of calm, as
death is dealt swiftly to man and creature alike within the subterranean sea.
Far to the east, through winding tunnels and expansive caverns, lies a
collection of drow houses called Ni'ewa Uhlruul.

Ni'ewa Uhlruul is filled with ruinous upheaval as a collection of lesser
houses have collaborated to relieve a stronger house of it's noble standing,
and thus strengthening each of their places in turn. House S'sambra is one of
the lesser of the lesser houses, conspiring to increase it's position. And
within house S'sambra, Narissorin is one of the lesser of the lesser
enchanters. This half-breed has long served as what most would consider to be
slave labor, for the martial combatants and silent killers of the house.

The cities houses shift in standing almost as often as often as waves crash
on a surface oceans beach. Narissorin has seen his own gain in standing time
and again, since he was but a child. No matter the stature of S'sambra
though, he has always had stained blood, relegated to droll simplistic
service to others. Such has always been as Narissorin could remember, though
that was all to change soon.

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