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A young drow girl stood in the middle of her family garden somewhere in the city of Baldur's gate, playing a lullaby on a violin. Delicate little fingers danced along the strings as the bow glided effortlessly. Only at the age of 10 and Li'Ara was already putting renown bards to shame. Or at least that's what her parents told her as they watched proudly. They remembered the girl begged them to teach her at 6-years old. The violin never left the little elf's hands since.

Her mother, Tris was a pale half-elf with blonde hair that loved to sing and her father, Kyus was a bronze skinned tiefling that was a violinist. He used to play for coin in his younger days in Neverwinter and she used to always listen to him every day. But one day she decided to sing along. Since then, they performed together. Traveling the Sword Coast together for almost a decade until they settled down in Baldur's Gate and had 3 children.
They did their best to provide for their family, raising them to stand up for themselves against the hardships life would throw their way. Their children were mixed bloods and they knew life would be even harder for them. And although Kyus and Tris weren't Li'Ara's birth parents, they didn't love her any less than their other children after finding her when she was just a babe, casted away in an alley like trash at barely a week old and her siblings loved and tormented her just the same as they did each other.
They were proud of her. Proud of all of them and could only imagine what type of men and women they all would become.

Tris went back inside the house to prepare supper while Kyus stayed, playing with his children. Li'Ara tugged his tail as she ran by.
"You dare grab my tail?" he feigned anger, lifting his arms over his head, making himself look bigger. "I'll eat you all!" With one step and a growl, he had the drow in his arms. She squealed and laughed in delight as she was lifted and twirled around before her feet were back on the ground and Kyus chased after the other as they poked and slashed with imaginary weapons.
It wasn't long before he was on the ground with his children piling atop him.

A ball suddenly landed in the grass. Shouting and a dog barking followed after. Li'Ara looked towards her family, smiling at their play, before reaching down to pick up the toy then opened the gate with intentions to give it back so she could join them. The girl held out her hand towards the approaching dog. She laughed as the excited animal licked her face then took the ball in its mouth, staring at her, tail wagging. Li'Ara praised the dog, calling it pretty as her fingers ruffled its white, soft fur.
The girl's voice caught her family's attention. Scrambling to their feet, they heard the boy shout a heartbeat before a stone struck Li'Ara's face.

"Leave my dog alone, drow!" A boy shouted.
Her eldest siblings, Juno and Junus, twin brother and sister were first to Li'Ara's defense as the 11-year-old Zandyr ran inside to fetch his mother.
"Leave our sister alone!" Juno shouted at the boy as they shielded the dark elf, their arms crossed.

The twins resembled their father. Curling ivory ram horns and piercing turquois irises against black sclera with bronze skin. Their hair was golden blonde, just like their mother's. They looked demonic. Both beautiful and dangerous even at the age of 13.

"What's going on here?" came Kyus's voice. Taking his place behind his daughter, hands on her shoulders.
The human children shrank back as the 6'2 tiefling towered over them. Li'Ara heard "Devils" whispered between them.

Tris and Zandyr were at their side within moments and the half-elf knelt down to examine her child's injury. A small cut and a bruise. A thin trickle of blood staining the girl's white eyebrow. A bright contrast against her dark skin
A man walked up behind the boy with the dog, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Is there a problem here, Kyus?"
"Your boy threw a rock at my daughter, Sheamus," Kyrus said.
"She was hurting my dog!" The boy cried.
"Liar!" Zandyr shouted back. "My sister wouldn't hurt a fly!"

If the twins were a spitting image of their father's, then Zandyr was their mother's. He could've passed as an elf himself if not for the tiefling bumps and ridges with his father's deep mohagany hair. His emerald eyes burned in anger as Kyus gently yet firmly gripped his shoulder to calm him

"Li'Ara only opened the gate to return the ball. The dog began playing with her." kyus explain. "She loves animals and would never harm it." Before anything else could be said or done, the city's guard came and broke it up. The parents ushered their children away.

Li'Ara watched the dog being led away with the children. Then her eyes snapped to them when sudden thought came to mind...

One day those brats will bleed.

Something came over the girl a few hours later. Her head pounded and her mind screamed for blood. All things went dark. By the time she awoke, her loving parents laid in a heap of blood and gore. Her siblings nowhere to be seen. Li'Ara was alone, covered in blood.



: : : :



"You play so beautifully, Milady."
Li'Ara ceased her music as her eyes snapped open upon hearing Sceleritas Fel. Her fiend butler sent to her by the god of murder to keep her on her destined path.
"And joyest birthday to you," the butler continued cheerfully, clasping his hands in delight.

The drow flinched and her stomach churned, tying itself in knots. She hated her birthday. Hated anything that reminded her of that day. She hated herself most of all.

"What have I told you about that?" She remarked, setting her violin down as she walked towards the window of her finely decorated room.
"My dearest apologies, My dark lady," he continued. "But such a day must be celebrated."
"Why is that?" She asked, leaning heavily on the window still. Every day for 15 years, Li'Ara contemplated suicide. Just tossing herself from this window to the streets below. It could all be over...

But Bhaal wouldn't let that happen, would he?

She was made from a piece of him after all. The dark urges were woven into her very being like a tapestry of carnage. Forcing her to kill when she resisted. Trapping her in her own body as she mentally screamed for help. Screamed to be stopped.
Too often did the drow fall into madness throughout those years only to weep once the red fog cleared, for she had no control over herself. For too long did she roam the city alone. Too afraid to seek out her siblings. She wanted to leave the city, but she didn't know where else to go. She just wanted it all to end.

Sceleratis Fel found her sometime during her adult years, telling her what she truly was and the reason why she was created.

Li'Ara could care less for Bhaal or any of his followers. They all could rot in the hells for all she cared, and she deeply wished they would.
But she accepted her fate and her role in life that was forced upon, and she played it well.
She learned how to use her body to lull her victims into a false sense of security. Learned how to use her voice to get what she needed and how to either freeze people in their tracks or make them putty in her hands with just a glance, becoming the perfect assassin. Eventually, she became lead priestess of the temple of Bhaal. She prayed to him. Killed for him. All despite how she truly felt.
Maybe, just maybe she would be free once his will was done. If not in life, then maybe in death.

But such success placed a target on her back by one of her own...

Orin the Crimson.

The shapeshifter grew jealous, seeing herself better than the drow. She made all of her victims into works of art. All in their father's name.
Li'Ara only felt pity for the woman. Every crazed thing she did was done with so much love just for acceptance, praise and love from the god of murder only to be met with silence or ridicule.
Orin could have the role if she so pleased. Li'Ara would gladly relinquish it, if it was so easily done.

But where the elf drew ire of one, she drew admiration from another. A human named Envor Gortash. He was the chosen of Bane, the god of tyranny. The reason why was very apparent. Gortash was all for enslavement, oppression and whatever else would get him to a higher rank in life. He was honest in a way that he followed through with whatever he said he'd do. But he was sly enough to play the part of a hero while pulling the strings to set the stage for such heroism.

Li'Ara trusted the man to a point. She could lower the mask with him, but never her guard.

"Are you listening, Milady?" Sceleritas Fel questioned, tilting his head while raising a crooked, clawed finger.
"It would seem our Lady of Murder is busy contemplating our next move."
Both Li'Ara and Sceleritas turned to find Gortash standing in the doorway. The elf's eyes turned down towards the butler, her tone cold and sharp.
"Leave us."
The creature went to protest, only to decide against it and bowed, disappearing in a moment.

Once he was gone, Li'Ara visibly relaxed as Gortash approached.
"Come to ease my suffering before I go to Moon Rise?"
"In a manner of speaking if you desired," Gortash replied, running his fingers in her long snow-white hair. "But you seemed distracted, my favorite assassin. What is it?"
The drow heaved a heavy sigh. "Orin's getting itchy, Thorm's using goblins of all thing! Everything has to be perfect! You'd think Myrkul's Chosen would have better troops than ******** goblins! He's a ******** NECROMANCER!"
The human's lips touched her neck just above her dark red blouse, sending a shiver of pleasure.
"Calm, my dear. It's your birth-"
A finger pressed against his lips, and he saw bright pink eyes grow cold and threatening.
"Don't you ******** finish that sentence."
Her reaction drew an amused chuckle as he took her hand. He knew she hated her birthday but never knew why.
"Sorry, My Lady." Gortash kissed her hand then her lips as he guided her towards her bed.

With an almost feral growl from the drow, the human found himself on his back and her on top. There was a hungry, rabid look in her beautiful rose quartz eyes. But it wasn't a crazed look and Gortash knew what it meant.
Li'Ara had some anger to let out...

And he was all for it...



: : : :



The meeting with Ketheric Thorm grated on Li'Ara nerves. He was quick to call her a mad dog and remind her she was in his domain. His voice was pleasing to her ear, but that made the insults all the more annoying.
She could understand his drive though. He speaks of reuniting with his daughter and mend their hardships.
How she wished to reunite with her siblings...

The drow's thoughts were interrupted as she reached for the enchanted silver ring on her right hand.

Gortash?

The human approached her. She looked puzzled as he explained Kressa needed her in the Ilithid colony below.
Why would Kressa, one of Ketheric's necromancers want to see her? Ketheric made it quite clear that his people solely reported to him.

Heeding her curiosity against her better judgement, Li'Ara followed Gortash. Once in the ilithid colony that laid beneath the Moonrise Tower, the elf saw Kressa's lab set up within a chamber with pods and what looked to be a basin in the middle of the chamber.

"You summoned me?" Li'Ara asked the bent form of the necromancer as she poured over her research.
Kressa straightened and turned to face the drow. "Yes. I wanted to speak to you about Patient 0."
Li'Ara quirked an eyebrow. "Who's Patient 0?"
"You, slaughter kin," came the reply from behind.

The elf spun on her heels in time for Gortash to snap his own neck then his form melted away, reshaping in a pale figure dressed in a scantly red chitin outfit with a long braid of blonde locks.
Li'Ara reached for her blades, but found herself frozen. Kressa softly chanting behind her, keeping the drow in place as Orin plunged her own dagger into her "Sister's" skull.
Li'Ara screamed in pain as the blade twisted and prodded, making a mess of her tormented mind. Once the pain ended, the drow collapsed in a heap, reduced to a drooling husk.

But Orin wasn't finished.

The elf heard soft screeching, felt slithering and skittering as a mind flayer tadpole wiggled inside her damaged skull. She felt a sharp pain as it latched on to her brain. Then she was placed in a pod. For the days to come, Li'Ara would feel her flesh be sliced open, hands entering her body, her entrails removed, examined then returned and her body stitched up just for it to begin anew.

Li'Ara couldn't scream. Couldn't move. Her head pounded with every thought, every mental cry.
She was trapped once again within her own body. Only this time:

There was no escape

The camp was bustling the next morning. Everyone busying themselves with their daily routines.

Shadowheart tended to the owlbear, Scratch, and her plants, Halsin communed with nature as Karlach combed her fingers through her hair, mumbling swears when they snagged on knots.
Once Lae'zel was satisfied with the sharpness of her blade, she walked over to Wyll while he practiced his swordplay, still getting accustomed to the weight of his newly gifted horns from his gracious patron, Mizora. The gith witnessed his skills in countless of battles in the short time they've traveled together and she wanted to see just how well the Blade of Frontiers would fare against a skilled githyaki warrior such as herself.

The request to spar did caught Wyll off guard. He saw himself as skilled, but not so skilled as to draw Lae'zel's attention. The man rubbed the back of his neck, debating rather to accept. After a moment, he nodded.
"You know what, Lae'zel? I accept."
"Good," Lae'zel smirked, getting into a fighting stance. "Let us see if you're worthy of your reputation."

The clashing of steel, rapier against great sword rang out for the better half of the morning, neither human nor gith seemed to tire. But their bout gained attention quickly.

"Marvelous. Simply marvelous," Volo mumbled to himself as he frantically scribbled in his book.
"Oh wow," Alfira mused, getting inspiration at the sight.
Gale, Halsin, and Shadowheart were impressed with how quick they were while Karlach cheered.
"Wohoo! Go Wyll! You got this, Lae'zel!"