Description
You find yourself looking upon a small framed ebony skinned creature. This
drow looks like many of the others you have seen, his skin highlighting the
color of his judgmental and beady gray eyes. He stands shorter than a human
would, with a much smaller but still muscular looking frame. His posture
appears to make him larger than he is, and he holds himself with a
destructive presence about him. Slender looking ears come to a curved point,
both riddled with jagged iron earrings in a twisted decor. Silky looking
strands of oily black hair is pulled back from his face and tied behind his
head in several small war braids. He dons similar jewelry to that on his ears
on his wrists and fingers, jagged and twisted iron relics of drowish design.
Under his assortment of battle worn armor you can discern he wears the black
robes of a sorcerer. On the side of his next is a branded burn scar, clearly
depicting the imperial codex. He surveys his surroundings with a constant
look of displeasure and awareness, each sharp glance as dismissive as the
next.
Role
A youthful bold mistake
Added Sun May 18 04:32:40 2014 at level 1:
Atazerus was born into a life of servitude in the dark and twisted city of
Teth Azeleth, deep in the bowels of Thera. Like many of the males of his
kind, he was seen as weak, and unfit to hold power among the many dynasties
of the drow houses in the city. The thing that separated him from the rest of
his peers was his undeniable connection to the divine. He was assigned as a
altarhand to the High Priestess in the temple of Lloth, performing simple
blessings and catering to the every need of the High priestess. But unknown
to those surrounding him, Atazerus's power was growing beyond what was
thought capable of him. He learned simple prayers quickly and kept his
natural talents a well kept secret. As his power grew over the years, so did
Atazerus's sense of ego, pride, and self confidence. He began to boast and
preach his own power and worth, claiming he was due a position as a proper
priest of the temple, overstepping his place among his superiors. It was not
long before pride took it's toll, and word of the arrogant Atazerus and his
defiant ways reached the High Priestess and Matron mother herself. Atazerus
was stripped of his lowly position and title and thrown into a cell,
mercilessly beaten three times a day before each meal to insure his jaw was
too tender to chew his own food. For over a year Atazerus was beaten,
tortured, and abused. He forsook the spider god, using the strength and will
he had to scream curses to her in the darkness each night before passing out
in defeat. He scratched promises to dark gods on the walls of his cell,
desperately hoping for an answer to his prayers. With no sense of time,
Atazerus placed his fate in the hands of the dark gods, and waited for his
time to die.
Sold into slavery
Added Sun May 18 04:34:41 2014 at level 1:
Weeks passed with no answers to his pleas to the dark gods to take him from
his suffering and deliver him to any other fate. Atazerus all but welcomed
death by this time, and knew they would soon tire of wasting food and a cell
on him. His execution must be coming soon. Somewhere in a dark corner of the
heavens or hells, an interest was taken in Atazerus. A force of the imperial
army was making it's way through the tunnels in the bowels of Thera, placing
standards bearing the imperial codex on paths through the dreaded underdark,
and collecting slaves to work in the quarries to bring more stone for roads.
The houses of Teth Azeleth were no fools, and knew better than to anger a
passing patrol of the Empire. The patrol was welcomed into the city, and
given food and quarter for the night. The bishop leading the patrol demanded
to be taken to the prisoner cells, producing handfuls of diamonds and gold to
exchange for their slaves and prisoners. Being the only prisoner held at the
time, Atazerus was sold as a slave for a fistful of gems and coins. He was
dragged into the center of the city, and one of the imperial soldiers branded
him on the side of the neck with a hot iron, the brand burning the sigil of
the Imperial Codex into the flesh of his neck. Atazerus held his composure,
not crying out, and then passed out from the pain, the sound of the laughing
sisters of Teth-Azeleth echoing through his head one last time.
Another change of fate
Added Sun May 18 04:36:50 2014 at level 1:
Atazerus awoke to bright sunlight bearing down on his sensitive eyes. He was
on the surface, on the back of a cart in tow by a line of imperial soldiers.
The soldiers laughed as they watched them wake, and he heard snickers as they
spoke and bet how long he would survive working in the mines. Tall trees
surrounded him on both sides as they made their way through the light forest.
Groggily, he sat up and looked about. He was not sure where fate had led him,
but he had been delivered from the cell he so desired freedom from. There was
dark power at work here, and Atazerus was aware of it. The patrol dragged
itself on for 3 more days, Atazerus slowing gaining back his strength and
wits as he awaited his destination. He was determined not to fall into a
worse fate than before, but dare not test his captors. He had never been a
fighter, and knew his own limitations. Little did he know, the opportunity to
change his fate would present itself. As the patrol reached a narrow
chokepoint in the path, the forest erupted with the cries of battle and
attack. Atazerus sharply looked around to see a force of elves and dwarves
coming down on his captors, ambushing the patrol without warning. The bishop
called out orders and brought his men to arms, but it seemed as if the elves
and dwarves would over run them. Atazerus knew the fate before him should he
fall into the hands of elven captors, and dug deep within himself to find a
strength even he questioned was there. Atazerus began touching the divine
powers, uttering the few prayers he knew, searing wounds closed as quick as
they opened and putting imperial soldiers back into battle. As quick as the
attack had began it was over, and while only a few Imperial soldiers and the
Bishop had survived, the attackers had been repelled. The bishop praised
Atazerus, calling his powers a gift from the greatest of lords, the lord of
the Empire, lord Destuvius. The bishop said he would give Atazerus a chance
to change his fate. Should he swear to live his life in the path of the
Destuvian order, then he would grant Atazerus the mercy of the bloodoath when
he had developed his talents more, and allow him a chance to earn a place in
the Imperial Divine sect This something rarely offered to a slave, and
Atazerus accepted this chance as a change of his fortune. Atazerus knew his
pleas to the dark gods had been heard, and he was set free of his chains, a
new path and purpose in life. One day, he would take revenge on those whom
had betrayed him. He would rise again.
Rising from rags to riches
Added Tue Jun 24 23:56:14 2014 at level 51:
From the prisons of Teth-Azeleth to the seat of the High Priest in the
Empire, Atazerus had done very well for himself since his service to the
Empire began. He was a proper Destuvian now, each day spent trying to do what
is his to be done in the grand design. Now under the leadership of the once
shadow lord but now Emperor Niji, his talents were quickly recognized and
appreciated. He rose quickly through the ranks of the empty divine sect, the
High Priest raising him through the ranks only to in time have his seat taken
by Atazerus. He was pleased with himself, and his pride and sense of purpose
inflated from each success surpassing the next. The Empire had grown to
respect his leadership and guidance, and rely on him heavily in the war. The
lack of divines makes the burden of duty heavy, and he ponders ways to expand
the sect and bring in new priests. The Emperors choice of war with the
tribunal leaves a dry taste in his mouth, feeling like a waste of war efforts
to him. Atazerus continues to serve his place in the design loyally. He has a
desire for the Throne, but those that rush such things live short lives.
Atazerus is confident the throne will be his. It is not a desire for power,
but his own sense that in a perfect world, he would sit on the throne because
his world would be best version possible. He looks for weakness all around
him in the Empire, presenting himself as a beacon of strength for others
while he constantly postures to be the clear choice of the council to succeed
the Emperor when the day comes. Always in the back of his mind he plots his
revenge on the servants of Lloth below the surface. Never will he rest until
he sees the ruin of his old goddesses house and temple.