Last Name:
Appearance:
Race: Drow
Age: 160
Height 5ft8
Weight: 160
Eyes: Red
Hair: White with the tips coloured in blood.
Facial Hair Style: None
Tall and muscular for a drow this handsome jaluk, clad in chainmail, has an aura of relaxed intelligence. However at times his intense red eyes burn with brutal purpose and determination. His hair is dyed at the tips with what looks like dried blood, and blood from good kills is also left along the edge of his scimitar.
His other visible weapons include a mace and a rather curious sling that flickers with flame. A buckler can also be seen.
There are a few wands attached to his belt, and also an intact fingerbone which bares a ring with the insignia scratched out.
School of Evocation emblem worn on his armor, showing rank of Faehlil.
Personality Profile:
General Health: Good
Deity:
Initial Alignment:
Profession: Soldier, Warrior
Base Class & Proposed Development: Wlk - WoD
Habits/Hobbies: Training, battle, slave hunting, reducing the numbers of lesser species.
Languages: Usual (Drow, undercommon etc) and Draconic, Arcane, Abyssal
Weapon of Choice: Scimitar, Mace.
Barbaccas is smart, charismatic and also very strong. He is however sometimes easily lead.
Background:
Barbaccas is from Maerimydra, belonging to a small Qu’ellar where his older brother was Quel'saruk (House Weapons Master). He was proud of being Drow, he was proud of his brother, he was proud of serving Selvetarm and his Llothite house / Ilharess, he followed orders without question as was the way.
His brothers way was of the Draa Velve (two sword) fighting style and in order to compete with his brothers superior talent Barbaccas instead used a spiked buckler in his left hand for both defence and attack. It helped him cope in a small way with his brothers superiority when they sparred, which he admired greatly and would push his own talent further.
The way of his Ilaress was that off deceit and cruelty, as is the way of all Ilharess. A title that meant you did everything she asked, everything she desired you made your mission to provide save the one thing she desired most, youth. She was getting old, she was getting bitter, t'is the way of life.
Selvetarm, his way was off battle and destruction. A warrior god, one who cared little for anything other than a deadly fighting style. She tricked him, the spider queen tricked him, as is her way, she tricked him into taking the essence of a demon, a spider demon, Zanassu, and now what resided in him resides in Selvetarm. It changed him and it chained him and now he is her champion, the champion of Lloth, a champion that despises the hand that feeds him yet as she feeds him war he serves, as is his way.
Barbaccas's way was that of confusion and pride. Proud to born of a race superior to all others, proud to serve the gods of such a race as what gods they must be to be deified by the drow. Yet confused by the division and fighting of drow against drow, by the gods that demanded its flock kill each other, confused by Ilharess and Yathrin that used the names of gods just to serve their own purpose and desires. He was young but smart, he saw through things but still served, and then it came.
War. House war.
They lost.
As Barbaccas stood with the remnants of his House in the centre of the colliseum, that magnificent structure of battle within Maerimydra, he could only admire the strategy that brought him here. Their enemies had been swift, decisive and using tactics that not only saw his small house defeated but also brought it to a discredited end in the eyes of all Maerimydra, said eyes now watched eagerly awaiting whatever beasts would be released from beyond the pit gates to end this failed house. At least he would get a warriors death.
His Ilharess had other ideas. She was strong once, but as time takes away all things here it took away her resolve and she fell to her knees and begged, before all of Maerimydra, in her final moments she forgot herself. Barbaccas's instincts were slower than his brothers and he watched, aghast, as his brother drew his sword and with such skilled swiftness beheaded the now unknown drowess and ended her shame as well as her suffering. Then he ended his own.
Barbaccas raged, for the first time in his life he gave into his anger and demanded with sword now in hand raised aloft that the beasts be released so he could show all Maerimydra how a true drow should die, with blood on his blade and fire in his eyes. He demanded of Selvetarm to take his soul only when many beasts lay dead at his feet, as a true heart of a drow should thrust a great cost upon any who try and take it. The cost was indeed great, and then he dies.
Beyond death Barbaccas fount his incorporeal self floating within a great darkness when he saw a light, a purple light, which moved toward him at great speed and hit him squarely in the chest. Soon after from behind him he felt the pull, a calling, his way was now back to the prime with two words lingering in his ear, "Not yet".
His eyes awoke within hers, the priestess, she who pulled. He had earned a second chance she said but that chance was not in Maerimydra, his house was dead, his life drained, and he was now exiled. So Barbaccas looked for a new life, a new way and a new start, he'd heard rumours of a city of change, a city of new ways . .
Barbaccas' way was to Sshamath.
Goals: To strive for the advancement of the Drow. To perfect his Kulggen Velve fighting style. To explore the new gifts given to him by Selvetarm and earn his respect through battling the beasts of the Underdark, and if necessary to die well.
UPDATED: To serve the city of Sshamath. To defend and protect its interests at all times and adhere to its laws, for the glory of his school and the conclave!
Possible Plot-Hook Ideas and Misc Facts:
Barbaccas does looks down on the 'lesser species', except for those that fight well.
Because of playing second fiddle to his brother he never believes or kids himself about 'being the best'. He just hopes to fight well and die well.
His view and service to Lloth is very much like Selvetarm, disgruntled but will serve.
UPDATED: Weary over the fickleness of gods, Barbaccas now instead commits himself to his purpose . . for the glory of Sshamath!