In his youth, Jaroth was a devout follower of Ilythir, the Drow Queen of
the Unlit City. He did what was expected of any and all Drows. Murder,
pillaging, whoring. All of it. His preference though, was sitting in the
nearby Inn, listening to various tales. One such was of a god named Lodur.
Rumor had it, he would play pranks on people and do unsuspecting and
wonderful things. Things only a Drow god could do. Night after night,
Jaroth sat there, drinking his ale and listening. He came to the conclusion
that the Drow Queen was, in fact, no God at all. She could do nothing
wonderful except for torture and murder the citizens she ruled over. Jaroth
was uncertain who he should follow, the Goddess of the City? Or the God of
the Drow? Before he would make his decision, Jaroth would be found at the
Tarantula Inn, and taken into custody for conspiracy to overthrow the
Matriarchy. Absurb, he simply wanted to know which God was real and which
the fake. For a year and a day, he was tormented, tortured, defiled, and
ridiculed. But he was still himself. Nothing amazing happened during his
tenure of forced imprisonment. Nothing astonishing as he watched his life
literally bleed out from him day after day. Nearing the end, and knowing
it, Jaroth called to the skies, 'Lodur, this... Queen is no Queen of mine!
Take me if you would have me to be your subject! ' Not a moment after the
last echoes faded in the prison, was there a loud clap of thunder. In the
prison. Not outside it, but in it. And there, stood a beaitific Drow,
grinning from ear to ear at Jaroth. 'Someone finally has true and
intentional need of me it seems. ' Lodur tittered as he spoke. 'Yes... I
am dying and I do not wish to die under the false pretense that Ilythir is
anything related to an actual God. ' Jaroth's words slurred with the latest
beating and exhaustion. 'I may help you, but it will be... Painful. And
you will change drastically little Drow. Would you still seek my aide? '
Grinning wider than before, Lodur made quick hopping motions to place
himself next to Jaroth. At this point, Jaroth could do nothing but nod and
drool bits of spittle mixed with blood. Jumping up ecstatically, Lodur
clapped his hands twice and grinned, 'I haven't done this in ages young
Drow, you should be so lucky. ' With that, Lodur left and return with the
largest spider Jaroth had ever seen, if it could even be considered a
spider. It was massive, and naturally, it was angry due to its entrampment
by the true Drow God. 'Close your eyes and I will explain. Your body is
weak, you need the strenght of the primal forces. Spiders are a very good
source of these primal forces. Your legs will never walk again, and I doubt
your manhood was ever any use to you as you were before. ' Lodur grinned a
wild grin as he said this last bit. 'So I will create two, one for you, and
one for our spider friend. Your parts will be replaced, and then the spider
killed since its legs will be as useless as the ones you have now and it
will do no good if anyone catches on how to practice such techniques. '
With that, Lodur began chanting and casting spells, spells never heard by
mortal ears. Potions, brews, poultices, everything had its place. Jaroth
was unconscious within the first thirty seconds of the procedure, which
ended up saving him some very unbearable pain. A week later, Jaroth awoke,
the Drow God Lodur gone. He felt.. Amazing. His limbs were powerful
again, even more than before. His legs were... Too many. Looking down
Jaroth saw that what Lodur had said was true. He MELDED the two species.
Standing to his full height he felt amazing, and awestruck. He had been in
the presence of a true God, and that God had saved him. From then, Jaroth
decided he would be Lodur's disciple until death.
Description:
The creature before you appears to be something out of a children's
nightmare. At first glance, it looks to be a male Drow, yet there is
something horribly wrong with him. A once proud frame has been emaciated
over time and torture. Scar-laden, his once flawless skin has turned a
shade duskier and is lackluster in all ways. Once vibrant white hair which
shown as the moon's light is now wispy and stringy, hanging about his face
and shoulders with little care or concern. His violet eyes remain
untouched, yet there is a hint of madness in them. His prominently angular
face is now gaunt, sunken hollows appearing just below his cheekbones and
below his eyes. His Drow heritage ends at the waist, where he has been
fused with the torso of a giant spider. Its abdomen is large and bulbous
and covered in tiny hairs over its entirety.
Skeggi and Jaroth had an interesting relationship. We travelled a lot together from ~30-50 and I always saw it as a “tenuous relationship of convenience” that could always turn deadly at any second. I never fully trusted you and when you beat me in the race to 50 I was sure you’d come after me. I was fine with that though. I have giant sized balls. Good luck with life. You’re a great AR player. It will be nice to see you again when you have time.
Definitely liked this character, even though he came charging at me every chance he got :) Favorite interaction was when I tried to strike a truce by offering to write your story, to which you responded "If a story is to be written, it will be written in blood" and I responded "Well that is inconvenient." Good job with this one and hope to see you on again someday.
This man dove into the Rest and tried to kill me in a group 4 for taking too long working on his background. Truly, he was the most passionate of my fans... such fervor for my output. I shall miss him.
Rothak 2 , 0 , 0 . This was me, by the way. Urody 0 , 0 , 0 . Surprising, thought it was some newbie that I felt bad about killing. Rothak 0 , 0 , 0 . Can’t win ‘em all!
[reply to Jaroth]Yer name struck fear in these realms, I can assure ye that. Well done! Hope yer back sooner rather than later!
[reply to Dwiggans]
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