Qusrivokt was born to to a fledgling hive, when its viability was yet to
be established. Even as a tadpole, he had been stronger than the rest.
Being allowed to ceremorph with the strongest human slave then, was a
forgone conclusion. Qusrivokt took great pride in his ability and standing.
Although the hive he belonged to was small and insignificant, Qusrivokt had
great dreams for its future. He performed his duties to the hive faithfully
and with great devotion. However, an illithid that harbors personal glories
are a dangerous breed, and unbeknownst to him, he had drawn the ire of the
Elder Mind.
As part of his regular duties, Qusrivokt would be charged with capturing
fresh slaves for the hive. On one fateful day, Qusrivokt came across a
human caravan departing from Darkhaven. In a show of might, he forced his
will on the twenty-three humans, enslaving them without a shedding a single
drop of blood. Satisfied with his achievement, he marched them back to the
hive with glee.
And with that, his fate was sealed.
As it were, the caravan were a decoy put together by a band of humans who
had lost their families to the illithids. And when Qusrivokt marched his
twenty-three captives back to the hive, he unwittingly brought along two
hundred armed men as well. The subsequent raid was a nightmare for both
sides.
In the end, the illithids managed to turn the humans away after suffering
grievous casulties. A dozen illithid were slain, fourty-eigtht slaves were
freed, and five cluster of fertilized eggs were destroyed.
The Elder Mind was enraged, and exiled Qusrivokt without a second thought.
Qusrivokt's horror at the hive's setback was quickly shadowed by his
banishment. In a moment of weakness, he begged for clemency, but there was
no absolution.
Cast out, Qusrivokt drifted across Serin. He tried his best to maintain his
prideful facade, but the haunting isolation of exile slowly whittled away at
his resolve. As an illithid, he knew without a doubt that those who live
alone die alone. With no way back to his hive, Qusrivokt turned to his only
other option - to embrace the life of those he had once enthralled.
Disgusted by his fate, Qusrivokt sets out on his quest with much
self-loathing.
Description:
The lithe frame of the illithid casts but a bare shadow on the ground it
walks. Its spindle like forearms end in finger-claws spewing with malicious
intent. Gray slime coat the four tentacles that spout from its face,
writhing incessantly in their hunger. The deep sunken sockets casts heavy
shadows upon the pin-point pupils. Two pulsing veins course from its brow
to the back of its head, pulsating to its own steady rhythm. As the
illithid moves, his form flickers in and out of existence, his presence
merely a suggestion.
