Rav'eth: The story of a lost soul



  • Rav’eth was just a young lad when he spoke his first words, it wasn’t in the common tongue either. Rav’eth was raised by a bunch of dwarves folk from the outskirts of the nearby town. Wonderful people, however they couldn’t raise a Human like a Human should be raised. No one is exactly sure what happened to his real parents, his biological parents to speak in current terms, but it never bothered him too much. By the age of four he was talking like the rest of his dwarven family, mispronouncing his words with a horrible accent. By the age of ten Rav’eth had picked up a sword and started to spar with the rest of his family and friends. He was a natural to say the least, winning a fair amount of his fights, although he wasn’t the greatest duelist to have ever lived, that’s for sure. Winters passed and summers came, before Rav’eth knew it, he was Fourteen and kicked out of his house. The dwarves family settled up and moved on, whilst Rav’eth was away for a week. Coming back to an abandoned home, he felt wronged. Something wasn’t right with him if everyone he met left him. This led to Rav’eth’s inability to become close with anyone. He spent most of his nights in the local pubs, flirting with women, leaving them the next morning and traveling out to where ever next he had in mind. By twenty he had been with more women then most had in a life time, yet, he felt empty inside. Waving a fond farewell to the women in his past, he packed his bags for one last trip. Rav’eth was going to attempt to join a thieves guild. Diving underground into the sewers, he ventured through the murky water until he came upon a Halfling crouching in the shadows. Tilting his head to the little fellow, Rav’eth asked him if he was part of the guild. The Halfling looked at him uncertainly and made him follow him. When they reached the headquarters, the thieves began to mock Rav’eth of his strange and deep accent. Shaking his head, he lost hope in that idea. Nothing seemed to go his way in life.

    So Rav’eth traveled on to the next village, seeking the “Wise one” of it. Crawling into a dimply lit tent, he saw the elderly woman smiling in his direction. Grinning faintly, he sat across from her and she spoke of his Biological father. He was assassinated by a group of Drow after his mother had died giving birth to him. The Drow stole him and attempted to sacrifice him to their Spider Goddess Lloth. As the sacrificial knife was about to slice his throat, a cave in occurred in the Underdark and they fled from their caverns to safer passage. Baby Rav’eth had been lost in the chaos, following into a long chute which the Drow used as a garbage route to the surface. There he was found by his Dwarven family.
    Rav’eth seemed satisfied with this information, still, the “Wise one” continued. His dwarves family had not moved away, but had been slain by the Drow who wished to kill him, they felt that he had defied their Goddess of the Spiders by living and they wanted him dead. Rav’eth stormed out of the woman’s tent, wondering off into the world.

    By word of mouth, news had come to his ear that there was a Drow problem in Narfell. It was the only link to finding these Drow that wanted his head, he was tired of fleeing from them. Wandering towards Narfell after acquiring a map to there from a local merchant, he wondered what life had in store for him in Narfell.

    Character name: Rav'eth
    User name: DarkDealings



  • Locked, exp pending

    mnd