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|  Sylkyl Denathyr - Character Submission
Name: Sylkyl Denathyr “Silke” as most call him
Race: Dark Elf
Age: 115
Alignment: True Neutral
Class: Rogue
Level: 20
Deity: None
Background:
Short Version
Silke is the 4th son of an insignificant Dark Elf Trading House of Olist Orbinn. He has no future in the House. After the vision of the Dragon, he decides to leave the city and venture to the surface in search of knowledge and magic. If helping the Dragon helps him achieve his goals, then even better. He travels out of the Underdark with a nameless Svirfneblin caravan heading to the surface for trade purposes. The caravan takes him to Hlint where his story begins.
Long Version
Awakened with a start, he wondered, “Was it just a dream? . . .”. The brightness from the torches, or maybe it was just the Dragon’s presence, still burned his eyes. The heat still touched his face. “Not just a dream. . . it had to have been more. . .” Silke sat up in his well adorned bed, trying to blink away the brightness. No one had even seen a Dragon, much less spoken with one in many decades. What was it the Dragon said? “Will you answer the call to defend Layonara from Blood?” Could the stories be true, and not just fancies of the surface dwellers?
The wheels inside his head began churning almost instantly, and at a very rapid pace. Schemes and plots were flowing through his mind so fast that he almost couldn’t keep up. But scheming and plotting were second nature to Drow. Their ambitions were only matched by their ruthlessness to achieve their goals. Most Dark Elves created complex machinations even in their deepest reveries.
Being the fourth son in a very minor trading House, his highest ambition would be to attempt greatness in the Academy of Arms of Olist Orbinn. Two of his older brothers were well on their way to becoming wizards, each with designs to out-perform the other. And the eldest was in position to take over the House as its Patriarch. The latter didn’t really have the intellect for the job, in Silke’s opinion and he was sure the entire House would fall shortly after he became Patriarch; but his other two brothers were very skilled in magic. He too wanted to study the arcane arts; it was most likely in his blood. However, his family needed someone to study war. Being the last born, and having no sisters, he was chosen to go that route. There was not even an attempt to placate him by his family. He was merely told that was the route he was going, with no input from himself. And there was no room for argument.
He loved studying; after all, information is the one commodity that everyone needed, no matter their profession. By day (or during normal business hours, since there is no day in the Underdark) he fervently studied the arts of war in the Academy of Olist Orbinn, taking in everything like a sponge and modifying it slightly to better match his own style. By night he participated in more surreptitious activities, gaining information about surface folks, trade routes, current trends in Noble House plots, anything he could turn around and sell to someone with a desire to know. A majority of the information he brokered was about the recent developments on the surface; Blood returning and trying to reactivate Blood Pools, the intricate workings of Blood Pools, and even that Blood himself was gathering armies to him for mass invasion. Silke wasn’t sure how much of it he believed to be true, but that rarely mattered when it came to Drow and the dealings of surface folk. The information still made him a profit.
The intelligence he was truly interested in, however, was that of magically enchanted items and scrolls. Anything dealing with magic, he wanted to know about it. It wasn’t just for profit. Magic was his true love, next to successful complex plotting. But as a rule, mages were tight-lipped folk. Drow Mages were even more so. Therefore he had to expend many of his resources and tap all of his contacts in the black market to appropriate information on magic. But there was only so much valid information about magic you could get in this place without actually being a wizard. He didn’t dare sneak into the Academy of the Magical Arts itself to retain his precious intelligence. Not yet anyway. The chances of finding a suitable contact inside the school were even slimmer than him surviving an attempt at secretly entering the school without permission. He needed another source, one that he could interact with to acquire magically enchanted items, not just information on them.
But now opportunities were springing up like poisoned mushrooms in the depths of the Underdark. If this truly was a vision from a Dragon and the message was real, then he now had a different avenue to investigate. The surface world had many different types of magic and less secretive than Drow (although that’s not saying much), but at best mistrusted Drow. More likely they would kill him on sight, thinking he was a spy or part of a raiding party. However with this message as a front, he could move more freely on the surface. If Blood truly was on a rampage and the surface folk were desperate enough, they may actually listen first and try to slit his throat later. Of course he would not allow for the latter, if he had a say in things. Now, how to get to the surface without alerting his family or other Drow of Olist Orbinn to his intended departure. . .
His family had been trading with the Svirfneblin for many years now. In fact, even though they were an insignificant House in the city aspect, they were one of the few that had a solid trade agreement with the deep gnomes. He could barter with them for passage to the surface, since they frequented the surface in their trade. But it would cost him, or rather his House dearly. Silke laughed silently at life’s little ironies.
Leaping from the bed he began packing his most prized possessions. Although he seemed careless and sloppy, he actually was very methodical and organized in everything he did. His notebooks categorized every bit of information that he brokered, who he got it from, where he sold it, and possible results from the information changing hands. Also contained within these notebooks are his journals from his own studies of both the arts of war and magic with extensive information on the war strategies and magic capabilities of Olist Orbinn. This would seem like a very fatal mistake, especially in the intelligence business. But Silke took every precaution, he always did. Before he made any moves, he researched, scouted, reconned, and researched some more. There were too many examples of Drow being totally annihilated for a simple miscalculation. Silke was too methodical for that. So all of his notebooks, papers, journals, and anything that had important writings were enchanted so that it showed anyone else gibberish in a common tongue. But to Silke’s eyes alone, it showed what was truly written. This little bit of precaution is thanks to a small stationary set that he “acquired” in his shady dealings. It consisted of a pen that wrote so that only he could read it, paper that would never run out, and a box which appeared like a large tome that contained them all safely from the elements, even if completely submerged in water.
Next in his belongings that rated very high was a small plain silver ring. Although it looked simple, this ring gave Silke the gift of True Sight. In the undercurrents of major schemes, most Drow did not want their identities to be known, so they tried to hide behind illusions. Needless to say, this gave Silke an advantage that he never disclosed. It also showed him secret doors and false walls where folks tried to hide their prized belongings from thievery. Too bad for them. A broad smile crossed his face as he put the ring on his left hand ring finger. It seemed to resize in order to properly fit his finger. Amazingly, he found this ring in an alleyway of the merchant section while he was evading an angry client. Thinking back. . . he did hide beneath a couple of recently dead bodies to avoid the confrontation. “I should have looked more closely to what else they no longer had any need of.”
He had stolen a belt from one of his brothers after they began their career in the school of magic. The belt was enchanted with Detect Magic. This was very useful in helping Silke determine the worth of things to be bought or sold, both legally and illegally. “I guess he got a better belt from the school” Silke mused as he buckled the clasp around his waist.
Being magical by nature, most of the Drow commonly used items were enchanted with some kind of magical properties, from cloaks to hats and even the boots on their feet. For example, his lavishly decorated cloak helped him to hide among his surroundings; his high, soft boots kept his footsteps quiet, even on loose or noisy surfaces; an onyx fitted in a chain encircling his head protected his mind from illusions, compulsion, and psionic attacks. Those were mostly common among Drow, even lowly ones. Silke’s House, although a trading House with some wealth, was still considered little better than slaves. Another reason there was no future in staying here at the present time. It was a shame that he would not finish taking the magical pieces that he worked so hard to find, but the opportunity to utilize his particular skills for greater reward was more valuable to him than those few items would be. His mind flashed back to a statue of a gargoyle that summoned a demon from another plane into the service of the statue holder. “It would have to wait for another time” he mumbled as he finished dressing.
He neatly and affectionately placed his possessions along with his traveling supplies in his backpack, enchanted with magic similar to a bag of holding; so that it was weightless and didn’t appear he wore it under his cloak. Then he started gathering his weapons. Almost all Drow weapons were enchanted. Some say it’s the nature of the Underdark itself. His weapons were no different. He had many daggers placed strategically throughout his clothing and on his body. In addition to the many daggers, he carried two long curved daggers, only slightly smaller than a short-sword. The Drow called them Kukri. Although not as impressive as a Dark Elven longsword or rune inscribed two-handed axe, they were exotic looking with a menacing and wicked sense to them. They would not be able to cleave a dwarf in two, maybe a gnome if a strong enough Drow wielded them, but in his hands, they were a swift death none the less, very accurate and fast. As he sheathed the Kukri upside down beneath his backpack, Silke glanced at his remaining weapon. A long, black lacquered staff with spear points on both ends. There were many runes inscribed on the black shaft, evidence that it was magical in nature. However, Silke had not yet had the opportunity to determine all of its magical properties. It was unbreakable, and that’s all he knew of it at this point. He did not have the time to study it now, perhaps when he got to his destination, wherever that may be.
Prepared and ready, Silke began sneaking out of House Denathyr, minor trade House of
Olist Orbinn, to meet up with his Svirfneblin caravan that was to take him safely and unnoticed to the surface. . .
This part is yet another story to be told at a different time. . .
The Svirfneblin took Silke from Olist Orbinn to many other cities in the Underdark. Using his skills at intelligence gathering, he learned much of the current trends of the surface and tried to prepare for what was to come. The trip was long and arduous. Before he met his destination, he had exhausted all of his resources that he “borrowed” from his House, and worked alongside the Svirfneblin in menial tasks as well as defending the caravan from bandits and monsters. The stories of the monsters in the Underdark do not give these creatures as much credit as they deserve. Fierce, ruthless, and uncanny could not even begin to describe them. Perhaps when he returns to the Underdark, Silke will study them in more detail.
Arriving at the surface. . .
The Svirfneblin caravan came to the cave entrance that led to the surface. It was night time, but the light from the stars and the moon was still too bright for Silke’s liking. The small gnome stepped up beside him and said, “The surface is here. We will be goin’ to the city they call Hlint, then back down to the Underdark. You can go with us or we can part ways now. You’ve more than paid for that much, but the decision is yours”.
Slightly frowning in thought, Silke remembered just how much he did pay for this journey. Now that he’s on the surface and little if any noticed his departure from Olist Orbinn, I was worth it. But where to go? The Dragon never mentioned where to meet or who to talk to. He just asked to answer the call. Once the caravan was a fair distance from Olist Orbinn, Silke began seriously weighing the options of where to begin. It wasn’t just chance that this small gnome, names were always good to leave out when you were participating in something you didn’t want folks remembering, was going to a relatively small town with many varieties of adventurers and races. That would be his destination. And what better way to arrive than with a trade caravan. It would be less suspicious than a lone Dark Elf far from home arriving mysteriously in the night.
“I shall go with you to Hlint. And from there, we shall part ways.” Silke never gave the gnome a chance to get a good look at his features, and only looked at the gnome when he wasn’t paying attention. More beneficial if he knew very few details when he repeated the story. Most of what Silke had learned of Drow living on the surface say that Dark Elven magic weakened or disappeared completely when left on the surface for too long. Silke was about to find out just how true that was.
The caravan got him inside the walls at Hlint. After seeing the state that Hlint was in, Silke didn’t think he’d have too much trouble getting inside on his own. Now he stands on a street in Hlint staring at various buildings. A tavern catches his eye and he begins walking towards it. Pulling his hood down and stepping inside the tavern he says to himself, “Let us begin this game. . .”
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