Iymtana Eils’sektlar

Player: StormOfWrath
Name: Iymtana Eils’sektlar
Race: Drow
Deity: Eilistraee
Height: 4’7
Weight: A little under 8 stone
Eyes: Silvery
Hair: Pure white

Appearance: Short — standing only around 4’7″, yet somewhat powerfully built, toned muscle beneath and a trim figure. This woman has skin the colour of obsidian and hair of purist white that proclaim her a drow. Her eyes are a pale, washed out silvery hue, constantly seeming to dart keeping a wary watch out. Should her skin be exposed she sports black flames tattooed on her chest stretching up from her bellybutton to her throat caressing and wrapping around her taut form. Her build does not suggest a warrior, though she has obviously taken time to keep in shape.

Personality: Reserved; partly due to being fully aware that being a drow provokes mostly hostile reactions from others, and would bring questions about what she’s up to. Though once someone gets to know her they’d find that behind the facade she is somewhat more warm than she may appear. Fiercely loyal to the few she eventually calls friends, and determined to try and follow the teachings of the Lady of the Dance as best she can.

Background

Born the 5th child of a small house allied to the Auzkovyn Clan. The only girl of the family, Iymtana had her path set out from her early age. Given her family followed Vhaeraun she was foreseen to be trained in seduction and spycraft to further advance her family’s standing, either via an advantageous marriage, or via blackmail acquired via her spying – either with a fellow drow house, or with one of the surface elves drawn into the service of the Masked Lord.

This however, never sat too comfortably with Iymtana. Whilst she enjoyed the surface, and took pleasure in the strange, exotic, things the surface had in abundance, she felt something was missing.

This feeling persisted that she was merely going through the motions, not feeling attached to the role she had been designated, nor feeling any real drive to persue the goals of her kith and kin. Her interest was however raised when she heard rumour of some force of degenerate drow also roaming the surface.

Time continued to pass; her family, and allies, slowly trying to forge her into their own tool to further their aims, and the feeling of wrongness continued to grow. Though she now started to note what she’d swear was a hunting horn sounding somewhere at random points of time – something she dismissed as being a group either going, or returning from a raid or other sortie.

Eventually, she was given a chance to go on a raid; a simple hit and run to acquire resources from a small village somewhere. Whilst she wasn’t overly thrilled with the idea; it did give her a chance to see more of the surface world; and a chance to do something else than lurk around trying to avoid doing anything to help.

The raid itself was a nightmare; the blood; the senseless brutality; the screams. Whilst her kin, and their allies, reveled in the event Iymtana found it sat ill with her.

Her hesitance however was not something that went unnoticed – bringing stinging punishment and condemnation from her kin for shaming them and for failing in her duty. Though she was to be given a chance to redeem herself – being told she’d be taking part in another raid – this one to capture one of the degenerates she’d heard rumour of. If she did well, she’d possibly be given the chance of being near the front when the execution took place once the raid had hauled the degenerate back.

In the days leading up to it she fretted; unwilling to assist; but also fearing what the outcome of trying to flee would be. The day of the strike she noted a small silver moth had somehow settled on her gear, and despite her best efforts seemed determined to cling on whatever she tried.

The strike itself was more a nightmare than the previous one; somehow the small group they were stalking seemed to be ready and met them blade to blade. Led by a drow the group fought back with a calm, disciplined air that contrasted sharply with the wild fury of her supposed allies.

Somehow; in the chaos of the melee, she found herself face to face with the drow they had been trying to capture – an older female; her eyes oddly kind, small crinkles at the edges suggesting one who was more used to smiling than war – though her bladework suggested she was no stranger to that either.

Iymtana stood facing her fully expecting to perish; her own blade still unstained by blood – and only drawn so it appeared she was doing something.

Time seemed to slow as the two faced each other..and then pain exploded across her skull..and darkness swirled in across her vision as consciousness slipped from her – her ears ringing with the soft strands of a harp playing a tune she couldn’t quite place but somehow knew.

When consciousness returned she was in a small glade – where she had expected to be bound and tied, she found herself free; her gear piled near her and oddly seeming to have been cleaned. Her marvelling at this was interupted by the elder drow female returning and sitting opposite her. She was splattered with blood – several bandages wrapped around wounds slowly seeping through still. An itch started between Iymtana’s shoulders, guilt for the harm done, embaressment at being captured, and on instinct she reached out a hand towards the woman and, as her hand brushed against the woman, to her shock, felt a surge of power — tiny, but noticable. Even stranger the woman seemed to expect this, a small smile slowly spreading across her features before she was laughing, a sound of pure joy.

The woman once she had collected herself; explained to the now throughly confused Iymtana who she was – stating she was a follower of a strange goddess she called Eilistraee — a goddess who was determined to save the drow from the clutches of Lolth, and return them to peace with the other races. She added that she’d been directed to wait in the area by one of Eilistraee’s priestesses as they’d seen someone who the goddess had an interest in arriving.

Still utterly confused the next few days passed with Iymtana asking every question she could think of, grilling the drow on everything, about herself, about this strange goddess… and especially about the weird surge she’d felt. The more she heard, the more it seemed, right, to Iymtana, that this was where she belonged.

Eventually she’d be brought to a small grove of followers to be more fully taught the rites, rituals, and paths of the goddess — one she no longer viewed as strange, but she felt there was something missing; eventually after some time she left a small note to those she now considered friends that whilst she would forever be grateful to them for rescuing her; the goddess did not intend her to walk their path.

Striking out on her own; she took to the paths determined that the goddess had chosen her for a reason – and she would wander till she found it.

Goals

• Discover why she was chosen by Eilistraee, what the Goddess had in mind for her to choose her as a Favoured Soul.
• Ideally, halt wherever schemes her family (and their allies) were cooking up — and if possible redeem them to Eilistraee’s faith too.
• Find allies amongst the surfacers to aid her in spreading Eilistraee’s faith and following.
• Find out what she can about the Darksong Knights, and maybe eventually join their ranks.

Possible plot hooks

• Her family are unlikely to be happy she defected – especially being the only female so may decide that she comes back in chains, or not at all.
• What happened to the guide who initially rescued her and started her teaching on Eilistraee’s path – she owes them a debt if they ever collect it