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[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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The Drow Quarter of Umbra was quiet this evening. The old drow assassin sat on his balcony, looking over the most recent additions to the Quarter. He could easily see the top of Narbondel not far to the east, along with the rooftop of the academy. He let out a relaxed sigh, raising a glass of their newest mushroom wine to his lips. It was not like many of the others he had tasted in his long life...but considering it had to be grown on the surface. Alaundril merely sighed again and turned to walk back inside the top floor of the Trading Company. Once again the black scorpion sat on his desk, the lock box it was in stood open. He shook his head slowly. The fires of chaos were burning hotly this evening apparently. Alaundril set his glass down and sat down in his chair...his red eyes never leaving the obsidian statue. It was a cruel and devious invention.
Perhaps invention was the wrong word...it was a devious little creature. Almost as if on cue the statue began to move around on his stone desk, it's claws making quiet clicking sounds on the surface. His mind wandered then, to the time when he recently used this creature and what it was capable of several months ago.

Alaundril had distanced himself from his son over the decades of Drayden's life. What could a Assassin that was being hunted by his own bring to a son? The same that had been brought to the elf that was Drayden's mother. A half breed deserved death. But that was something that Alaundril never had the nerve to do. Why kill such a talented warrior/mage? There was much more that could be garnered from his continued survival. In the months during the wars of Minoc the old drow had watched his son through the lone remaining Sirah spy. He was simply called Riven Pitt. It was through Riven Pitt that Alaundril had planted the seeds of chaos within his son's mind. It was time that Drayden...since that seemed what those on the surface called him, realized who he was. The times of Drayden's bargaining and begging for peace within the surface realm would be at an end soon.
At the time, Alaundril had slowly and subtly influenced his son's actions. And towards the end of the Minoc War, he sent the few Drow that still served the Sirah after Drayden, dragging him into the cold depths below. Drayden had grown jaded of his benevolent nature. What was once a desire to bring balance and peace to the world had now turned into anger, hatred and a desire to watch the world burn to ashes. The perfect place to begin his work. Soon this young half drow would accept who and what he was, and he would no longer be forced to live a life of inner conflict. His son had taken the first most important steps, but Alaundril would help him complete the quest.
The old drow had the sole female of his house living in the ancient ruins of House Do'Rhett with him she had served many purposes, but her full utility would be at an end very soon. She took great pleasure in beating the younger male, and had it not been for Alaundril, she may have killed him already. That would be a shame, as what use could gain from a dead Drayden. It was after he had had a reprieve from the beatings that Alaundril decided to begin the ritual. His kind worshipped no Spider Queen. Their deity was represented as a Scorpion Drow. The name of this god, like his small outfit had not been spoken in centuries. He looked to Sister Pain and stepped back to let her work. Drayden was naked and tied to an obsidian altar. His eyes were the brightest sapphire that Alaundril had ever seen. Alaundril was careful to stay in the darkness of the dimly lit room as he watched Sister Pain strap his legs and arms. When she was finished, she was kind enough to slam her elbow into his face one good time.
Females. So cruel and full of hate. That too would be her undoing. He watched as she began chanting, moving around the small room and lighting the four braziers aflame.
Her prayers continued as she held her scorpion shaped symbol above her head. Looking down at the half conscious Drayden. Crackling magic was heard, and dark purple flames lit the priestess' holy symbol. On a small dais before her her other hand hovered over a small obsidian scorpion which now began to wiggle and move more and more as it's natural counterpart. Its obsidian shell crumbled away, revealing the black and red skin of the little devil. She spoke the words, "Alu ulu dosst jabbuk." The scorpion skittered up one of Drayden's legs and over his abdomen. His fear was easily noticed. His eyes were wide with fear, he even screamed several times as the black scorpion began burrowing within his chest. The younger drow writhed around a bit more, the pain causing him to lose consciousness, but he still let out cries of pain. Now, his body wasn't the only thing under attack. The seed of chaos was burning in Drayden's soul now. Alaundril gave the order to Sister pain to have him returned to his room. The time would come when he would realize who and what he truly was. Born of chaos. Blood of the drow....

(to be continued soon.)