Autumn
First Post
Okay, got the background written up for my submission. It's kinda weighty, I hope I don't get a tl dr. 
Mechanically he'll be a NE Elf Rogue. I'll work on statting him up now, but I thought I may as well post this since it's finished.
Oh, I guess I should include a warning; there's some somewhat mature content. Nothing explicit, but it's not too pleasant.
[sblock=Background] Jale Arideth always knew he was destined for great things. His father was a retainer for House Phiarlan. He was never favored or even noticed by the higher echelons of the House, and he was happy that way. He was an unambitious man, devoted to his wife and children, happy to make an honest wage. Jale's brother and sister both took after their father, content to live quiet and unassuming lives. Jale was different. Growing up amid the comings and goings of Phiarlan's troupes and agents, all of them so graceful and sophisticated and glamorous, he knew he could never settle for just serving these people. He wanted more than that. He wanted to be one of them.
The fire of that ambition drove him throughout the years of his youth, filling him with a relentless urge to self-improvement. He was a perfectionist, never satisfied with anything he did until it was effortless and impeccable. His attitude alienated him from his family, and though he was popular and had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances he always felt alone in the world. That was the price he paid for self-reliance.
His dedication bore fruit. Almost no sooner had he started work, alongside his father, than he began to surpass him. Valeting for Lady Iselle Lacere d'Thuranni one night he apparently made an impression; she asked after him the next day. She was a celebrated songstress, a great beauty, and a rising star within the House. Before long he was on her personal staff, and making more money than his father ever had. From there his ascent was meteoric - within weeks it was rumoured that he was Lady Iselle's lover, and half the young scions of the House were taking an interest in him.
When gradually word started to spread that he was himself a talented actor and musician and that he might also have the required subtlety and discretion to handle the House's more sinister activities, his success was assured. He was soon established as a trusted agent in his own right, and there was talk of marrying him off to one of the House's eligible young females.
On the eve of the great rift in the House, the marriage had been decided and a date set: he was to be married to Alandre Kalind d'Phiarlan, a girl of only ninety who was herself something of a nonentity but for her title. It was still a great honour; the marriage would cement Jale as a member of the House, and there was no reason for his wife's mediocrity to hold him back. With little ambition of her own, Alandre unthinkingly followed her father's conservatism as far as the political situation was concerned.
All was not straightforward, though. Jaler's ties with Iselle were still strong - and she was far from conservative. She was known as one of the chief radicals within the family, and during her liaisons with Jale she would whisper sweet promises to him. Soon there would be a split, and if he would but throw his lot in with her she would see to it that he would be highly favored within the new House. He wouldn't have to tolerate an expeditious marriage to a tiresome, vapid girl like Alandre - he would be a scion in his own right, accorded all the respect and freedom he could wish.
Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to be seduced by her promises. As the situation deteriorated, he declared himself openly on the side of the emergent House Thuranni.
And then suddenly, with a switch of nightmarish swiftness as if by some incredible sleight of hand, Iselle had switched sides. Perhaps she'd had a better offer, or perhaps she'd been a double agent all along - Jale was never again able to get close enough to her to figure it out. But when the schism came there she was, firmly entrenched in House Phiarlan. He'd lost his patron in Thuranni, and thrown away all his chances with Phiarlan. He was lost, caught between the two sides.
He did the only thing he could - he disappeared, lest somebody who had taken offense at his duplicity should decide to take advantage of his exposed position.
And so he spent the next few years in hiding, making a living as a petty criminal and brooding over the way Iselle had betrayed him. A violent hatred had taken root in him, and as these years passed in ignominy and squalor it flourished and bore bitter fruit.
His fortunes changed eventually, once more with the advent of another woman in his life. Whether for better or worse, it's not easy to say. Lit appeared to him in the guise of a flower girl on the streets of Sharn at first, but that was only one of her many forms. She rarely came to him with the same face twice, preferring to take on a different shape for every passing day - sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes young and sometimes old. It was only much later that he realized that, by a whim of hers, all her guises were people she had killed.
Their romance was sweet and carefree at first, giving back to Jale some of the energy and life that he had lost since his fall from grace. She appeared to him as innocent and delicate as a flower, and he even had the folly to think that it was he who was corrupting her when she listened to his embittered tales and his desire for revenge.
She urged him on, giving him back his confidence and self-assurance, making him believe that he could still have his revenge on the woman who had wronged him. He came to believe it, and a new purpose consumed him.
Meanwhile, very slowly, Lit began to introduce him to her world. At first it was innocuous - friends of hers who seemed charming and intelligent. Then as time went on it began to seem deliciously dangerous - new and exotic games in the bedroom, libertine strangers with amoral philosophies and mad gleams in their eyes, midnight gatherings where they would smoke pipes of strange-scented smoke and indulge in disjointed and depraved conversations and interactions.
Drunk on Lit's charm and the sense of excitement that all this brought him, he allowed himself to be drawn into her world. Somehow it became a part of his new lease of life, tied up inextricably with his restored sense of drive and purpose.
By the time Lit told him that the people they were mixing with were all devotees of the Dragon Below, he wasn't surprised. He'd already reached his own conclusions, and they weren't so far from the truth. He didn't care any more; in fact he felt a kind of exultation. He continued his plans to bring about Iselle's downfall even as he began to be introduced openly to the rites of the cult, witnessing horrors that only a year ago would have appalled him.
Meanwhile he was gaining a reputation for himself as a force to be reckoned with within Sharn's criminal underworld. He would engage in anything from drug deals to contract killing, in the same spirit that he had taken up pretty criminality after his expulsion from the House. But whereas then he had been scrambling to survive, he now found that things came easily to him. He could deal easily with the criminal elements of the city - his whole bearing and the efficiency and grace with which he fulfilled his contracts earned him respect without him ever having to try.
When finally his plans came to fruition and Iselle fell into his clutches, there was none of the great surge of joy that he had been expecting. There was merely a quiet satisfaction of a long-awaited gratification, and the dark pleasure at finally reversing the power dynamic between them. She had never looked as beautiful to him as she did then, wide-eyed with fear and disbelief, entirely at his mercy.
It was many days of exquisite agony before she was allowed to die.[/sblock]
Mechanically he'll be a NE Elf Rogue. I'll work on statting him up now, but I thought I may as well post this since it's finished.
Oh, I guess I should include a warning; there's some somewhat mature content. Nothing explicit, but it's not too pleasant.
[sblock=Background] Jale Arideth always knew he was destined for great things. His father was a retainer for House Phiarlan. He was never favored or even noticed by the higher echelons of the House, and he was happy that way. He was an unambitious man, devoted to his wife and children, happy to make an honest wage. Jale's brother and sister both took after their father, content to live quiet and unassuming lives. Jale was different. Growing up amid the comings and goings of Phiarlan's troupes and agents, all of them so graceful and sophisticated and glamorous, he knew he could never settle for just serving these people. He wanted more than that. He wanted to be one of them.
The fire of that ambition drove him throughout the years of his youth, filling him with a relentless urge to self-improvement. He was a perfectionist, never satisfied with anything he did until it was effortless and impeccable. His attitude alienated him from his family, and though he was popular and had a wide circle of friends and acquaintances he always felt alone in the world. That was the price he paid for self-reliance.
His dedication bore fruit. Almost no sooner had he started work, alongside his father, than he began to surpass him. Valeting for Lady Iselle Lacere d'Thuranni one night he apparently made an impression; she asked after him the next day. She was a celebrated songstress, a great beauty, and a rising star within the House. Before long he was on her personal staff, and making more money than his father ever had. From there his ascent was meteoric - within weeks it was rumoured that he was Lady Iselle's lover, and half the young scions of the House were taking an interest in him.
When gradually word started to spread that he was himself a talented actor and musician and that he might also have the required subtlety and discretion to handle the House's more sinister activities, his success was assured. He was soon established as a trusted agent in his own right, and there was talk of marrying him off to one of the House's eligible young females.
On the eve of the great rift in the House, the marriage had been decided and a date set: he was to be married to Alandre Kalind d'Phiarlan, a girl of only ninety who was herself something of a nonentity but for her title. It was still a great honour; the marriage would cement Jale as a member of the House, and there was no reason for his wife's mediocrity to hold him back. With little ambition of her own, Alandre unthinkingly followed her father's conservatism as far as the political situation was concerned.
All was not straightforward, though. Jaler's ties with Iselle were still strong - and she was far from conservative. She was known as one of the chief radicals within the family, and during her liaisons with Jale she would whisper sweet promises to him. Soon there would be a split, and if he would but throw his lot in with her she would see to it that he would be highly favored within the new House. He wouldn't have to tolerate an expeditious marriage to a tiresome, vapid girl like Alandre - he would be a scion in his own right, accorded all the respect and freedom he could wish.
Against his better judgment, he allowed himself to be seduced by her promises. As the situation deteriorated, he declared himself openly on the side of the emergent House Thuranni.
And then suddenly, with a switch of nightmarish swiftness as if by some incredible sleight of hand, Iselle had switched sides. Perhaps she'd had a better offer, or perhaps she'd been a double agent all along - Jale was never again able to get close enough to her to figure it out. But when the schism came there she was, firmly entrenched in House Phiarlan. He'd lost his patron in Thuranni, and thrown away all his chances with Phiarlan. He was lost, caught between the two sides.
He did the only thing he could - he disappeared, lest somebody who had taken offense at his duplicity should decide to take advantage of his exposed position.
And so he spent the next few years in hiding, making a living as a petty criminal and brooding over the way Iselle had betrayed him. A violent hatred had taken root in him, and as these years passed in ignominy and squalor it flourished and bore bitter fruit.
His fortunes changed eventually, once more with the advent of another woman in his life. Whether for better or worse, it's not easy to say. Lit appeared to him in the guise of a flower girl on the streets of Sharn at first, but that was only one of her many forms. She rarely came to him with the same face twice, preferring to take on a different shape for every passing day - sometimes male, sometimes female, sometimes young and sometimes old. It was only much later that he realized that, by a whim of hers, all her guises were people she had killed.
Their romance was sweet and carefree at first, giving back to Jale some of the energy and life that he had lost since his fall from grace. She appeared to him as innocent and delicate as a flower, and he even had the folly to think that it was he who was corrupting her when she listened to his embittered tales and his desire for revenge.
She urged him on, giving him back his confidence and self-assurance, making him believe that he could still have his revenge on the woman who had wronged him. He came to believe it, and a new purpose consumed him.
Meanwhile, very slowly, Lit began to introduce him to her world. At first it was innocuous - friends of hers who seemed charming and intelligent. Then as time went on it began to seem deliciously dangerous - new and exotic games in the bedroom, libertine strangers with amoral philosophies and mad gleams in their eyes, midnight gatherings where they would smoke pipes of strange-scented smoke and indulge in disjointed and depraved conversations and interactions.
Drunk on Lit's charm and the sense of excitement that all this brought him, he allowed himself to be drawn into her world. Somehow it became a part of his new lease of life, tied up inextricably with his restored sense of drive and purpose.
By the time Lit told him that the people they were mixing with were all devotees of the Dragon Below, he wasn't surprised. He'd already reached his own conclusions, and they weren't so far from the truth. He didn't care any more; in fact he felt a kind of exultation. He continued his plans to bring about Iselle's downfall even as he began to be introduced openly to the rites of the cult, witnessing horrors that only a year ago would have appalled him.
Meanwhile he was gaining a reputation for himself as a force to be reckoned with within Sharn's criminal underworld. He would engage in anything from drug deals to contract killing, in the same spirit that he had taken up pretty criminality after his expulsion from the House. But whereas then he had been scrambling to survive, he now found that things came easily to him. He could deal easily with the criminal elements of the city - his whole bearing and the efficiency and grace with which he fulfilled his contracts earned him respect without him ever having to try.
When finally his plans came to fruition and Iselle fell into his clutches, there was none of the great surge of joy that he had been expecting. There was merely a quiet satisfaction of a long-awaited gratification, and the dark pleasure at finally reversing the power dynamic between them. She had never looked as beautiful to him as she did then, wide-eyed with fear and disbelief, entirely at his mercy.
It was many days of exquisite agony before she was allowed to die.[/sblock]
