| Fenyx | |
|---|---|
 | |
|
Race |
Drow |
|
Class |
Executioner Assassin, Formerly Night Stalker Assassin |
|
Occupation, former |
Drow Assassin Slave |
|
Occupation, Current |
Adventurer (Deceased) |
|
Alignment |
Unaligned |
|
Worship |
Melora |
Description[]
Fenyx Vlyndrael stands at a height of 5'9" and weighs a delicate amount of 150 lbs. His hair, white and his eyes, a vivid green.
Origins[]
From the caves of the Underdark, a now deceased House Vlyndrael, and the Night Stalkers Guild.
Notable Exploits[]
Slew most of his own house in one infuriated moment. -In the height of his training, Fenyx led the operations against rival House Sylvek in both preparation and action. Known well in the caverns for his extreme cunning, stealth and thieving, no one else was as qualified for the job. Singlehandedly and over the course of years, he created countless traps all over House Sylvek, escaping notice flawlessly on all but two occasions -a feat in itself. Part spy, part assassin, those lucky enough to glance his presence during this mission were met with their own words to silence them -for information can be as useful if not more, than a practiced blade. The on-watchers were ended by their own greed and lust for power...when one saw, two died: both known for plotting the other's death for a rise in rank or for fear of being backstabbed by the other.
When all was set, a unique tide of events washed over, ruining House Vlyndrael's plans and changing Fenyx's life tremendously, forevermore. It was the day of the attack. When all eyes were to Fenyx for his signal, he saw in the distance his brother, and one trusted friend in all the Underdark with a sword through the stomache. Left alone to the world, there was nothing else to be gained but stress, cruelty, and more Drow..."politics". What else was left to live for among the Drow, when your own family would simply slay you for what you've gained? All that was worth living for fell down in the distant heap of gut and blood. It was this that caused Fenyx to go blind with rage. It was this mistake that slew House Vlyndrael. Atop Sylvek's highest tower, he intentionally drew the signal in the air early, sending hundreds upon hundreds of Vlyndrael's finest to their deaths. They rushed into the towers of Sylvek as Fenyx watched uncaring, silent. A cold, deathly stare in his eyes followed them up into the three spiraling towers of Sylvek, to be met by what could be remembered as one of the finer traps in Drow history.
He released the signal for his hidden fellow assassins, simultaneously triggering the trap for his tower. Fenyx looked to the small hole atop the front tower, pulled out the charred magic scroll and chanted in Elven the written incantation. A speeding iron ball instantly shot out in front of him blindingly fast, with such ferocity that even Fenyx was hard pressed to see where it had gone. -An instant later revealed it's presence, the ball had hit it's mark and was now whirling down a winding passage inside the tower walls, passing each step as it went. Thousands of clinking sounds reverberated back up to him, revealing every single step being triggered to flip over, placing thousands of needles into the feet of Vlyndrael warriors. Nothing but the resounding, harmonious thud of 600 Vlyndrael soldiers could be heard, falling limp from the intoxicating, instantly fatal poison. Quickly, Fenyx shot down his fellow assassins atop the other two towers and made his way down the pile of bodies. The wizards would be approaching soon.
Stepping to the base of the tower, Fenyx took out the false stones, placing them carefully on the ground. The magic users were now running through the courtyard to join the battle. Quickly, he faced the 3 pre-positioned Bolas, blowing each one in turn. Poisonous gas clouds began to seep out from carefully laid sacks, choking the wizards from incantation. With a quick moment to close his eyes and draw a long breath, he cursed the god Lolth, vowing to slay her personally. Pulling the mask over his eyes and mouth, Fenyx ran through the obscured courtyard, daggers drawn. Blade after blade flew as he ran, body after body hitting the cold rock floor.
He ran and ran that day, and kept running until his blades could taste no more Vlyndrael blood, running even further still until his feet would carry him no more. A Drow without a house is as good as dead, and Fenyx was certain the now roused house Sylvek's armies would finish off the remaining 253. Whereas at the beginning they were evenly matched 900 to 900, now house Sylvek held the upper ground in both sheer numbers and surprise. Fenyx never looked back to the Underdark, or to the Night Stalkers guild he had climbed in rank so quickly. Instead he looked forward to a new future in an outside world, desperate to get away from the crazed caves, fearing for his own sanity in the end of all things. He needed a home he could trust, he needed friends who wouldn't backstab him, he needed someone to talk to that wouldn't judge his past actions.
Accomplishments[]
Prodigal rise in rank in the Night Stalkers Guild, trained spy & assassin.
Accepted into the city of Pelosh- a feat for one of his race.
Fenyx has become reluctantly accepted by the surface Elves out of respect to an elder named The Protector. This came to being after preventing a werewolf attack in a small town at night. Fenyx took down the werewolf, but at a large cost. He was bitten and contracted the disease. During the first full moon, The Protector appeared to Fenyx, calming the savage beast within and in his subconscious, they talked. It will be a long struggle to contain the bloodlust of the wolf, but Fenyx did not wake up without hope. -A gift was given to the dark elf, something that would let others recognize him as a friend to the elves. The protector placed upon his head a crown of leaves. -Half red vines with thorns, the other half verdant with green leaves. It was said that this gift would bring him closer to his chosen deity Melora with time..and it would appear this has happened, for while it is known that werewolves cannot cross rivers or lakes, a curiosity occured- He could.
On the roads, the party was torn between two options- leaving a city at war with itself that needed help, or catching up to Reaya (who had gone missing.) The party decided to split, and Tagen-Sai went into the town with Fenyx to solve a faction dispute. There it was discovered the Werewolf curse had spread even wider, and the town's leader had become power hungry. A more savage approach took to ruling the town, and it was the leader's desire to turn the entire town feral with the curse of the werewolf. When words were not enough, it became apparent that a more physical method was needed to fix the situation. In an all or nothing fight, Fenyx challenged the leader to the right to command the tribe of the werewolf. The fight was brutal, but quick to finish, and in the end it was Fenyx who rose above, earning himself the title of leader to the Werewolves.
Allies, Friends, Factions, Pets and Henchmen[]
With trust loose at best in the other races, Fenyx has placed friendship in his hawk Eclisse. Found when he first escaped the caverns of the Underdark, he took pity on the creature to mend a broken wing instead of slaying it for it's meat. This was a notable self sacrifice, because Fenyx was starving at the time. Perhaps he was maddened with grief for his slain friend, perhaps he just didn't care to live anymore, or perhaps he saw this night-black feathered hawk in symbolism to his own broken self. No matter the reasons, with time she became his most trusted companion. It is the only being he now considers family, and regards it's judgement and feelings with the utmost priority.
Since the escape, Fenyx has taken refuge in the trust of a few adventurers, who seem not to care for his heritage (which is good enough for him.) He has since been earning cuts of delves in order to buy passage to a quiet, peaceful home outside of any civilization's reach. While it is one of few jobs he is capable of earning wages from due to his appearance, it is by no means a hassle. Killing is what he does best, and the chipper attitude of the Gnome is cutting into his silent and stern attitude. Little by little, he is learning what it means to laugh, again among friends.
Death and/or Retirement[]
N/A