Description
A hooded male humanoid, six feet in height, with close-cropped shining
obsidian hair, he has a correctly proportioned, angular face and ashen gray
skin. A slender, whip-like frame and dull black eyes complement his
appearence and his slightly pointed ears further reveal his half-drow
ancestry. The dark white sigils upon the forearms of his night black cloak
obviously have been embroidered with meticulous detail. With further
scrutiny, you determine -
Role
Scion
Added Sun Oct 21 13:39:21 2007 at level 51:
Iszjir has made his decision. He has seen the dark power Scion is amassing,
and has seen the Ccul'gra's power since he found Maethien's largest through
the Hall of Portals. Not merely playing lip service, he has gotten behind
making the Prophecy a reality. He does what he can to defend, always seeks to
raid, and always seeks to prove to the Ccul'gra why they should see him as an
ally. Iszjir believes fully that Ravon and the other mages of the Chasm will
enact the portals to bring the Prophecy to fruition.
Update
Added Thu Sep 13 20:17:24 2007 at level 47:
The streets were quiet this night. Torrential rain often kept all
but the most ambitious guild thieves and assassins from stalking
their prey. Iszjir pulled the hood of his cloak over his head after
pulling back his rain-slicked hair. The rain did not bother him. In
fact, very little bothered him, except the Dark Moon.
Iszjir had sought information on them from every Guild Master, every
cabal, and even the Herald library. It was as if the 'Dark Moon' did
not even exist, so secretive were their members. Perhaps, they had
been exterminated, perhaps they had been driven underground. It did
not matter, Iszjir would find any who were of their ranks, and then,
the Reckoning would come. Iszjir was unsure if he would kill them on
sight, torture them for information, or thank them for focusing his
hatred. It was not some misplaced loyalty or love of his mother that
fueled his desire. It was unhidden respect for their skill and their
tactics. The ability to kill before your enemy even knew you existed
had always been alluring to Iszjir, since the day his aunt had
revealed the truth of his mother's death. Iszjir suspected this
group had been but a pawn of a cabal once known as 'the Ancients',
or perhaps, a derivative of the cabal known as the 'Church of
Shadow'. Iszjir was unsure of their true beginnings, or their true
allegiances. He knew only that one of their members had slain his
mother with cold, deadly efficiency. The mere thought forced him to
discard his reverie and scan the streets for any sign that he
himself might have troubles. Sensing the arial conjurer Einor,
Iszjir quickly turned his thoughts to studying his target.
As he stood over the lifeless corpse of Einor, some time later,
Iszjir admired the teachings of his guild. With patience,
discipline, and execution, there was no enemy who was beyond him.
Refreshing, yet also sobering. He was not naieve enough to believe
himself to be the only focused, disciplined killer. Surely, Ilmdrin
was one who bore watching, as one who adhered to Cyradia's
teachings was an adversary to be wary of.
Quickly relieving Einor of his things, Iszjir made his way to a
well-concealed nook in a dark and remote forest. Sifting through the
goods, Iszjir concluded that the only things that would keep him
from finding the Dark Moon would be lack of patience, or lack of
execution. He resolved to be sure neither would happen. He would
choose no cabal, and no allies, until his personal quest had been
fulfilled, or realized as impossible. Until that day he would
continue to walk the streets, alone, except for his hatred.
Current Status
Added Sun Sep 9 16:14:07 2007 at level 47:
Iszjir continues to walk his own path. He willingly and easily lies to prevent most from discerning his true nature as an independent. He still
considers joining the Empire, or the Scions, and has no qualms about killing a potential ally if it benefits him. He is power-hungry, greedy, but possessed
of a strange set of ethics. He never leaves his opponents with nothing after killing them, he will avoid any sort of group on one
fighting as well. He seeks to found his own Assassins guild, the House of Shadows, to control bounties and perhaps the unclaimed cities with
thieves guilds. He continues to seek news of the Dark moon, but repeated visits to Teth-azeleth and the Underdark have proven fruitless. As
he continues to grow in his guild, he will decide for certain who to ally with, but for now he continues to keep his options open as he seeks to
master the arts of the assassin's guild.
Background
Added Tue Aug 7 11:29:18 2007 at level 35:
Iszjir is a killer who both fears and loves Death in that he appreciates the
finality of it, yet ultimately loathes embracing it himself. Orphaned at a
young age, Iszjir was the son of a human woman and a drow wizard of some
repute. His mother, a prostitute, was killed when the mage learned of
Iszjir's existence. The boy, six at the time, was not present when his mother
was assassinated by a member of the Dark Moon assassin's guild, in the
streets of Hamsah Mu'Tazz. Iszjir was quickly abandoned to the streets of
Hamsah Mu'tazz, until making his way to the Royal Assassins guild upon his
coming of age. He is disciplined, focused, and confident. His goals in life
are to rise to the top of his craft as an assassin and find the Dark Moon
guild to obtain some sort of misplaced vengeance. In truth, he owes this
guild a debt for it is Iszjir's hatred of them which has brought him strength
and focus, as he has sought to learn the craft of those who slew his mother,
so skilled and unseen were they.
Apology to the Imms
Added Mon Aug 6 00:21:19 2007 at level 35:
I am an asshole sometimes and I apologize that you have to listen to it.
You are welcome to remove pray from me, I deserve it.
The Nightmare
Added Thu Jul 26 18:54:53 2007 at level 25:
The nightmare was always the same. It was as if he actually _was_ his mother,
he could feel her senses so vividly. It would always begin the same, with
Iszjir running through the forest, as his mother had, so many years ago. Out
of breath and shivering with either fear or cold, he could feel his heart
racing madly just as his mother had. Then, his feet bare, cold upon the
stones as he entered a city of sorts, dark and foreboding with not a living
soul in sight. Then, like always, he felt 'them'. More a sixth sense, it was
something, tugging at the edge of his senses, a feeling of pursuit and
impending capture. Then, like some sick tragedy, he would see only the
ground, rushing up at him with dizzying quickness and sudden shock. Darkness
would overwhelm him and he would awaken, but not before one last, quickly
blurring, vision of soft, black dragonhide boots standing next to his now
closing eyes.
PK Wins
Nov 17, 2007|Lv 51|The Redhorn Mountains|Kilthig vs 2: Igbah (70%), Iszjir (29%, KB)
Nov 17, 2007|Lv 51|The Redhorn Mountains|Deyriaras vs 2: Ravon (100%,KB), Iszjir (0%)
Nov 18, 2007|Lv 51|East Sumner's Road|Yevandr vs 2: Elemek (58%,KB), Iszjir (41%)
PK Deaths
Nov 21, 2007|Lv 51|The Redhorn Mountains|vs 2: Kelteon (0%), Elmyre (100%, KB)