• Attention: Upon guild invitation, only "I" can accept requests unless I inform one of the vice captains to do so for me. Invitations are free to send out to whomever, but they must pass through me directly.

Last Edit | April 26, 2013
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-- Introduction --
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As a traveler, you tread toward the east of the weastern sea, the sun slow to fall at your back as the last embers of light finger across the salmon-colored sky. The breeze was almost to none as you traverse from the once lush forest, through the crag, and ascend the rocky mountain pass. The road was old, the dirt path coughed dust from decades if not centuries of no use because of the precarious rock slides, the remnants of the stone trails and sunbaked clay streaked down the vertical side of the cool gray surface to the valley far below, but even this was not enough to hinder your approach.

The mysterious invitation sent from a previous day radiated magical properties the closer you seemed to get to the inscribed destination. At this point as you come to a high wall of two jetted pillars of rock that lead into the mountain, the parchment you received seared hotly against your flesh as if the fires of Hell kissed at your skin before it dissolved in its own flames. The tongues didn't leave a scorch upon you, but rather encased you to be shielded from the forces ahead. As the written words had stated, only those with the invitation were permitted entrance to this hidden domain. With firm feet, you carry on through the barrier of the realm. When you get under the archway of the obelisks, a sensation of prongs, as if a volley of needles, prod at your form harmlessly, the invisible scan of who had trespassed verify not to attack because of the familiar aura that now encased your body for protection.

As you descend into the trench, the light now faded into night as the darkness of the cavern thickened to near pitch if not for the faint glow of magic, the walls clear after a three mile walk in the shadows lead by the lights. As you near the exit, you can see a massive fortress at least another mile below where you stood that was surrounded almost entirely by the mountain save for the upper west corner of rock to allow in a trace amount of sky to tell the time of day. As you stand nearer to the edge of the cliffside to inspect the area further, a sudden, but expected, silent link from the woman's voice that held a dominant impression all it's own spoke plainly within your mind:

  • "Enter at your own risk, you pawns of my power. You are only here to serve me and guard me. There is no such thing as safety here, but you are protected from those inside these walls because I allow it so. Under my rule, you are to do nothing in my presence, but obey. Avert your eyes where I tread and bow. By the blessing of my touch you are to rise stronger than you were and are deemed with the power of my family. If I should find you unworthy of my court, you shall not run and you cannot hide, for that invites your death. You are to redeem yourself or die from one of the demons I control. By my command, my guards are ripened for the bloody battle to come, for their might is strong, but I am stronger. If you attempt to kill me, I welcome it gladly, but you are warned you will surely die."

It was clear that it was a one-way communication for you would have said something to go against it. You are no pawn and she would have to understand that. By the by, you didn't come here to leave, and as she said 'you cannot run'. You turned your gaze to the right of you to follow the line of lights that lead the way down a flight of stairs. Though it was a mile straight down, the angle the stairs went along with the spiral flesh to the mountain, the walk would be much longer than you would have liked.

It took a while, but the last steps were made as your eyes trace where the lights lead. Easily, the fortress was three kilometers in diameter, a rather well made size for something hidden under stone, but nothing compared to dwarven make. For one person, it came to a surprise how she could make it on her own. Must have took a while, but that wasn't your problem. Maybe some other time you could admire the craftsmanship as you continue the path.

As you stand before the gargantuan black gates, a door large enough to loose out a battalion, the last of the invitation's magic activated to roll from your skin like a mist, form into a light violet specter that resembled an imp with relatively long ears, beaded eyes, and hair that trailed behind before it flew fifteen meters above where you stood, touched the door, and vanished. The sound of mechanical parts jeered inside the gates, the grind of chains and locks echoed audibly in the resolute chamber of the mountain, then the doors cracked enough for you to enter. The voice of the woman returned for one last word:

  • "Welcome, Warrior of Auvryduis."


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-- History --
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Matron Myrisstra was the drow figurehead to the House of Auvryduis. She had one daughter from the first Patron, the weapons master Dipvayas, named Phyra, the second priestess to the House and the first heir to her throne. Like many drow Matrons, Matron Myrisstra grew bored of her suitor, though powerful and useful, she desired to have another to take his stead as Patron. Not long after the birth of Phyra, she found her second suitor to take the role as Patron. Though he was only an expert lover, Thatoj wasn't completely useless as male when she became pregnant with her second daughter, Viereyl, third priestess to the house. While Myrisstra sent her daughters off to study at the academy, she ruled faithfully to the House goddess, Lolth, as a servant to her will. However, she still had not bore a son to name elderboy, no mage in her ranks other than those not blood of herself. What grew to become her downfall was the back of her heart felt the fear her House wasn't as strong as those around her. At any moment, there could be a loom of attack. This hidden fear made her wary to bear more children, thus her will to procreate more than her thoughts of defenses.

After a few years of failure, Myrisstra finally was able to conceive once more and by the silent whispers of the goddess, she found that the child she carried wasn't alone. A male and a female were held safely in the womb. It was uncommon, but not rare to bear twins. After another few months when the time to give birth to her offspring, there was a complication in the delivery. Phyra knelt beside her mother to hold her hand, Viereyl behind the head of the chair to watch the sweat of her mother's brow, three priestesses from the Temple aided at the side with assorted items, and the eldest priestess at the delivery point. The boy was first to crown as the four younger priestesses that surrounded her seat held their breath, not of worry, but of anticipation. They watched as the eldest priestess held out her hands to aid the Matron in her delivery. By the first push, the babe was found to darken in hue, the room now silenced except for the heavy pants of Myrisstra. The elder priestess unsheathed her knife and awaited the rest of the boy that remained. It took two more pushes to expel the boy, but around his neck was the umbilical cord of the sister. The elder severed the tie of the cord and handed the nameless stillborn to the nearest priestess to give to the mother. "Krenor," she uttered through another contraction, her hand tightened against her daughter's hand. Another ten minutes passed before the daughter had left the womb. As she was brought to the exhausted Matron, she already had thought of her name before she touched her to bless the infant. "Auntyrr," she slurred through a sigh. In memory of her lost son, Auntyrr was a name that would fit this child well.

Like many children, Auntyrr was a spoiled child until she came of age to train. Dipvayas took care of her training personally by the Matron's command. His lessons were harsh, but it only made Auntyrr tougher by each fall. For a child to appear the age of eight, she was only six because of the ancient elven blood that fluxuates the age of its descendants from a babe to a child, then slows as a teenager. Though it was normal to raise children similar to abuse in the drow culture, Auntyrr's hatred grew thick against her family. When she showed physical talent and a massive potential in her magical abilities at seven, she was sent early into the academy for priestess training. For almost two decades, the priestesses before her dubbed her worth of the title priestess assistant, one of the youngest drow of her time to advance so quickly in rank, but she wouldn't accept a title so lowly as an assistant. She couldn't stop so short on her quest for power and further studied even stricter to become a priestess. Lolth found immense favor in Auntyrr's power and bestowed more so onto her alone.

However, not all was in her favor in the House of Auvryduis. The collapse of the House had come just as Matron Myrisstra had feared when the House itself fell out of favor of Lolth's eye. Unlike the rest of the House, Auntyrr, seventy-eight at the time, reconciled with the sister priestesses to destroy her own bloodline in secrecy against the family. With the aid of the priestesses to hush the situation, they aided her in battle. She flung open the doors as a great battle ensued between her sisters and herself while the priestesses that created the temporary pact slayed every House soldier that flooded into the battleground in the grand room. Auntyrr killed every drow in her path while she gave thanks to Lloth upon this blessed day.User Image - Blocked by "Display Image" Settings. Click to show. With her body stained in blood, but with no wounds about her pristine body, Auntyrr headed up to where the only one who remained waited, her mother the Matron. The priestesses of five were down to two, one on either side of the third daughter's flank. As they ascended into the third story by the winding stairs, there was an tug in the back of her mind. Auntyrr spun around, the blade of her kris sword blocked a shoulder slice as the other priestess flung her whip at her. In the end, both bodies rolled down the stairwell to lay upon the rest of the corpses.

Up at the top of the House was a corridor, Auntyrr navigated through the well known walls of her family, then straight to the throne room to open the doors. Like all places of Lolth's worship, the room was pitch black, Auntyrr closed her eyes to adjust to infravision, then scanned the room. Dark grey pillars etched the marvels of faerie fire to glow orange, purple, and red light into the cathedral like room. Stone carvings lined the walls that depicted wars come and gone, each told their story of how the House came to be since its foundation. She didn't care about them, her history or her family, as her eyes fixed solely on her mother. Matron Myrisstra stood up from her seat of power, the lights faded rapidly to a shallow glow, then the fight began. The brawl lasted for a few hours, Auntyrr was close to have had her mana depleted from magic because of the previous battles. Her mother was in no better shape, he age against her, her muscle low and fat rather high, and her once prime body withered. Compared to her mother, Auntyrr was stronger, faster, and much more skilled than she or those who fell dead before her. However, Auntyrr dropped her guard for a moment, the three-headed snake scourge ripped open her right shoulder to scar. The fight had to end soon or both would die, Matron Myrisstra from the clear loss and Auntyrr for the snakes' poisonous bite. Auntyrr had no choice but to use one of the old relics that they had, a naginata from the third Matron almost fourteen centuries ago as her mother fell like the rest of her family.

It was the end of her House; the end of her blood kin. Auntyrr staggered to clench her shoulder with her left hand before she fell to her knees. She took what she would need to keep her alive, stripped off her dead mother's armor, dressed herself in it, then fastened the relic naginata to her back. She didn't need all of the weapons here, and she certainly didn't want the scourge. She took out a vial to milk the venom of the snakes, left the room, and went to the healing chamber to mend the wounds of her body. When she finished, she left for good, stepped through the blood drenched floor of her familys' corpses, over the bodies of the priestesses, through the pile of orcs, goblins, and other slave creatures in their army, and out the door into the Underdark.

A few meters away from the main entrance, she lifted her hand, her magic restored from the chambers, the dark arcane powers formed in her palm and fingers, and snaked up and around the fortress she was born in. With the clench of her fist, the shadows cut through the stone, as the House of her foremothers fell into nothingness. She was now free from all family limitations. She was the head of an unestablished family, the only Matron to take the throne both as priestess and ruler if she so chose, but not now. Not a single survivor was found in the chaos, not even the remnants of the House itself for Auntyrr had reaped the souls of her kin. The only proof of such a victory that followed Auntyrr is the three-pronged scar that riddled her right shoulder, a tear in her ashen flesh from the fight against her mother, and a reminder of the first betrayal to her own kind. As tribute, the House of Auvryduis was the sacrifice Lolth had sought and the blood of her family paid the price of every kind she needed. This was the major stepping stone to Auntyrr's power and blessing all in the name of the relentless Spider Queen.

After centuries passed, Auntyrr had grown from a child, to a rebellious and blood-thirsty teen, to an adult of power and control that extended to the surface itself. She destroyed many clans and even overthrew the power of two leaders, but she had yet to settle from her journeys to make a family of her own. When Auntyrr first ventured to the surface, she found many partners to satisfy her lust, but not one who was worthy to be deemed her mate. Two drow, one man, one woman, and a demon served her little purpose in her hope of passing her blood on. When she met the master of the woman, a pale-skinned ruby-haired draconic being, she was infatuated with his power and aimed to claim him.

Like a puppet master at the strings, she manipulated his heart to her will and she then called him her mate. The male, however, is a hellhound and for her being a high priestess of Lolth, it was a blemish upon her duties to her goddess not only to perform a 'ritual' with the demonkin out of command, but to find refuge on the surface with the father. To conceive a child in secret and to flee to the surface was two strikes against Auntyrr she would have better been without as a drow scout stumbled upon her upon the surface, thus the drow returned to the Underdark to report. However, Auntyrr saw no such thing would come to harm her or her child. She held no fear, like all drow are properly raised should, and prepared for the assassins that would be brought upon her because of her betrayal of surface dwelling. As such, her masses of warriors grow. She is the leader forefront on the battlefield. Her pregnancy will be no hinderance when it comes to blood. Even if Lolth's eyes have diverged from Auntyrr's loyalty, this is one drow that will fight faithful to the bitter end. When all is over, pray to Lolth that the blood she will slay will compensate for her terried faith.


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