Zyvian Auvrylyl

[Nymphet]

  

This slender wisp of a creature is always swathed in blackened leathers and darkened steel, her features obscured by an acid etched mask of intricate design and guised in the shadow of her cowl.
  At her hips rests a pair of blades, accompanied by a necklace of obsidian gemstone prayrbeads. About her neck on a simple length of cord, fitted with an amulet of a small, opaque white crystal.

 Though in the end, she is a mut, an offense to any breed of elven blood.
  Her skin holds the dusky, ashen flesh of the Drow, though it is of a lighter tone. Her hair colorless and white, while vaguely streaked with silver and gray. Her right eye takes the characteristic crimson hue, however her left holds the color of the brightest silver.
  She is a mix of darkness and the moon, the child of an elven slave and drow master somewhere deep within the Underdark.

True Name: Zyvian
Nickname: 'Z' (Zee)
Homeworld: Faerun
Home City: Maerimydra
Drow House: Auvrylyl - House of the Bloodied Blade

Race: Half Moon Elf, Half Drow
Age: Young Adult
Eyes: Right: Crimson, Left: Silverblue
Hair: White
Height: Just under five foot
Body: Athletic, Dexterous, Slender, Petite

True Deity: The Forgotten One
Secondary Deity: Zinzerena
Known Languages: Deep Speech, Drow, Common
Written Languages: Deep Speech, Drow, Common
Non Fluent Languages: Goblin, Orc, Elven
Occupation: Priestess, Herbalist

Greatest Fears:
Her true fears are kept as an iron clad secret. On the surface she fears things more powerful than her, things which can kill her, and being found out as a Half Drow is among them, as both drow and humans tend to greet her with hate and violence. Though deeper, her fears are far more chilling.
She fears losing that which she cares for most, that it will be taken from her, used against her, twisted and turned against her or destroyed. Her faith, and connection to her god, or whatever being it is which whispers to her in her prayers.
Greatest Desires:
Z has a great need to fit into a Drow Society, to feel as though she belongs and is valued.
Her knowledge of the culture is limited due to her mixed heritage and the work she did while enslaved in Faerun, there is little more she wants than to know the culture, and be a part of it, what little there is to be found in the Core.
And her third greatest desire is power, to never feel weak, afraid, and inferior. She wishes people to fear her, respect her, and reviver her as something exceptionally dangerous.

OOC Goals:
OOC Quest Paths:

[Nymphet]

*A black leather bound book of water proof pages, written in a dark ink in the tongue of the Underdark.*
Entry:
I awoke laying on strange dull grass, the earth smelling musty and exotically spiced. A heavy mist shrouded the land, cold and gray yet painfully bright to my eyes.
But it was not the chill of the frost which shook me, the feeling which brought me to my knees in a persudo pain of the soul. I had been stripped, encased and
disconnected from my god. The holy presence, the warmth from within, the feeling of an unseen powers hand upon the shoulder had been purged, torn away and
leaving a raw emptiness.
Here I am abandoned and spiritually naked, deserted on some surface world, an alien place wrought with dangers of claw and fang as well as civilized. I have been
rendered defenseless among these surface dwelling barbarians, and I am left wondering if the tales of their evil are true.

---

Entry:
I dwell under ground during the hours of day, though it is not as comforting as one would hope. Tight tunnels of sewer drain and half collapsed catacombs of restless
dead have become sanctuary from the prying eyes above. But here, in the wet and foul gasses, I have found comfort.
It began as an annoying buzz within my silent prayers, like a fly passing just out of reach before I listened. There within the darkness I heard it, a weak whisper
stretching through to reach me. Again I felt the power of the divine, the words of influence and encouragement. The surge of power offered for my obedience. I will comply.

---

Entry:
There are Drow here, though no more than ten from what I can gather. Seems there is no underground respite, no houses of power, just a small assembly of refugees.
The Black Leafs. It near sounds Eilistraeean, though oddly most if not all but one follow the Valsharess Lolth.
Chessryn - The reported Matriarch of the group, nominated by skill, not gender. Though I was only able to speak to her in short.
Ryl'tar Vandree - An exceptionally skilled male, likely one of the stronger of the few, next to the Matriarch.
Valek - I've yet to meet him, though supposedly he is responsible for the hunt and bounty on black skinned elves within Barovia.

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