Aranae was raised in a cult of Lolth, though he was unaware of this fact for the longest time. His skin was midnight black, and he would often blend in with the shadows. Accidentally. It became rather difficult to see what was drow, and what was the darkness around the drow. Given the unique nature of his physical appearance--whether it be a sign or a genetic birth defect, he was chosen to be raised as an assassin. From a very young age, he was taught how to make the most of his appearance. How to stay absolutely still, then strike when the moment was right. He didn't exactly--ah--know what he was being trained for... but he knew it was important.

Let's step back for a moment to talk about Aranae's parents. Or rather, his lack of parents. For his father and mother were lost soon after his birth, in a mission. It is unknown how they disappeared... whether they died, defected, or something else entirely (hint hint possible dm backstory tie in with the story hint hint moment hint hint). Either way, he received no warmth from those around him. All but his instructors, who were nothing but cold and harsh, avoided him at all costs, most likely due to his physical appearance. And it is as such that, for the first few years of his life, Aranae knew nothing but cold treatment and the lonely darkness of his cave.

One crucial day in his life, Aranae noticed a host of dead bodies being brought in from the outside, where he was forbidden to trod. He had grown to abhor the life he knew--completely devoid of warmth. He decided he would sneak out, in the middle of the night, to investigate the bodies. And so he did. He picked the lock to his room--or cell, whichever you prefer, and slipped out in the darkness of the cave.

He moved silently, nearly invisible as he retraced his steps to where he saw the body. He forgot where the body had come from, so he relied on his instincts. He turned left. Slowly, he began making progress. After a painstaking hour of movement, he eventually found himself in front of a massive door. However, it was locked. No matter how hard he tried, he could not pick the lock. It was reinforced by magic. Aranae cursed to himself quietly. He had come so far, but all for nothing. All hope was lost. Now, all he could do, was turn back to his cell and pretend nothing had happened.

But then, he heard a sharp voice. "Aranae! What are you doing here? At this hour?"

Aranae whipped around--and there, he saw his mentor. Telax. He knew that he wasn't talking his way out of this one--he knew what he had to do. Somehow. Even though he hadn't done this ever before--or even that, a moment ago, he didn't know he could do this--he willed the magic in his veins out. A pure, inky, black darkness spread throughout the room. Aranae quickly grappled his mentor, and, in a stroke of pure luck, found his dagger. And then he stabbed into the darkness.

The darkness around him faded, and all that remained was the broken form of a giant spider. Aranae fell back in shock--for he had no idea of this cult's connection to spiders. Indeed, he knew very little at all about the ways of the world. Aranae found a pouch on the ground, within which he found a key. He entered the locked room behind the door.

Here, he found a vast amount of dead humanoids. Tall thin ones, like the ones Aranae was familiar with, but with pale complexions. Short and stocky ones who had strong, callused hands and muscles. And the ones with fire in their eyes, a passion that Aranae had never seen or known before. He spent hours in that room, studying every dead body. He cried for them. He talked to them. And eventually, they answered. The gods down below saw his compassion and naivety and deemed that they would, just this once, make an exception. They showed the souls of those who had died to Aranae.

He spent hours and hours in that room, speaking to those who had died. He learned much about the outside world, though it seemed foreign and alien to him. It was only hours after he had begun speaking had he had the thought that he would like to live above. Only, as he had this thought, he realized how truly impossible this was. As far as he knew, there were hundreds of drow currently in the cult's den, and given Telax's reaction to finding Aranae here, he suspected that the others would... ah... disapprove of the notion of Aranae leaving the den. He sighed, and got up to leave. But the spirits, after learning so much about this young drow, decided they would help him.

Needless to say, Aranae successfully escaped. The dead provided him with secrets about the den: the layout of the ventilation, where he could find keys, and even helped him in combat a few times. He escaped, taking with him nothing but his own body, his equipment, and a healthy respect for the dead. At this point in time, he was approximately 29 years old. Quite young for an elf, as Aranae now knew.

Aranae spent the next thirteen years accustoming himself to the outside world. He adopted a job in Neverwinter, using his skills to end those who had caused pain to others. Throughout this time, he has honed his skills, and now is an extremely skilled assassin. He tracks quarries for Lord Neverember, and occasionally for others who seek his aid.

Have you always lived in Neverwinter, or are you a recent immigrant? - Aranae's lived in Neverwinter for 13 years.

Do you live in the main town, or in one of the outlying farming communities? - Main town.

What is your current profession – feel free to tie in to one of the well-known businesses or guilds or create your own. - I'm a bounty hunter who mostly targets criminals. I don't ask for too much money, and I'm extremely good at my job.

How did you acquire your skills - or who trained you? - See backstory.

What are your dreams and aspirations? None. ATM, I'm still phasing out of my dark upbringing. I am extremely grateful for all that life has given to me. I do enjoy ending those who cause others pain and suffering.

Finally, what is one thing you are known for in town – be it a well-known ‘secret’ or a common rumor. (This last one I do want you to answer!)

I have often been seen carrying dead bodies around town. Also, occasionally, the light of a bonfire can be seen where I live. It is rumored that I eat my quarries alive--a crude combination of these two facts. This is untrue; I burn my quarries after they die and wish them a smooth journey.

Growing up amidst the mystical energies of the Tower, Xarrakas was immersed in a world where arcane and divine magics intertwined seamlessly. His parents, devout clerics and scholars, nurtured his curiosity and guided his education in the ways of Mystra. From a young age, Xarrakas was captivated by the strange magical phenomena that occurred within the Tower's walls, often witnessing spells that defied conventional understanding.

As a dedicated scholar, Xarrakas spent countless hours studying ancient tomes and scrolls, participating in elaborate rituals, and engaging in spirited debates with other learned minds in Silverymoon. His deep understanding of arcana, history, insight, perception, persuasion, and religion earned him the prestigious rank of a cloistered scholar within the Tower of Balance.

Now an older and more seasoned cleric, Xarrakas has honed his abilities not only in scholarly pursuits but also in combat. His reputation as a steadfast protector and healer is well known. Xarrakas dreams of further exploring the mysteries of the Weave and using his knowledge to protect and balance the magical forces in the world. In Silverymoon, he is respected for his composed demeanor, even in the face of the city's most bizarre magical anomalies. His peers and the townsfolk regard him as a pillar of stability and wisdom. But he secretly years to delve into catacombs and recover lost knowledge of the Weave.

Xarrakas came to Neverwinter on a mission to investigate reports of unstable magical phenomena reminiscent of those he studied in the Tower of Balance. Mystra's guidance led him to believe that these disturbances might be linked to a broader threat to the Weave. His goal is to uncover the source of these disruptions and prevent any further imbalance. Additionally, he hopes to collaborate with the local scholars and mages in Neverwinter to combine their knowledge and resources in addressing this critical issue.

As he prepares to confront the dark threats posed by unknown terrors, Xarrakas remains resolute. His faith in Mystra, combined with his extensive knowledge and combat skills, makes him a formidable guardian of the Weave, ready to unravel the mysteries that endanger the balance of magic and ensure its preservation for future generations.

I admit I have read a good quantity of spoilers for the adventure (Eve of Ruin, rather), so some of the surprises won't elicit quite a shock from me. That said, I really enjoy high level play, and have done it quite a bit (I've hit level 17 in a campaign that started at level one before. How I miss you my Shifter Cleric of Thor who looked like a goat and was an accountant with a nasally voice. Yeah, it was a weird character).

I am no stranger to complicated characters, having built some crazy multiclassed characters before (Bugbear Beast Barbarian, Swords Bard, War Cleric, Spore Druid, Fighter, Paladin, Gloomstalker Ranger, Assasin Rogue, Hexblade Warlock anyone? The burst damage is INSANE on that one), but I would probably build a random character, using dice to generate everything, including backstory, if that is okay. I find it interesting to have limits (IE random race and class that are very weird together), and figure out how I can make that a good story.

The identity of Vanizi father was always a bit uncertain and her mother was killed in battle not long after she was born. Her mother, a human, had been part of a large mercenary company, which communally took responsibility for Vanizi's upbringing. It was clear that she did not take to book learning. But since she was strong and decently athletic, they did the obvious thing and tried to train her as a warrior. However, she was never really exemplary at that either. When younger, this led to her being the target of the blows of bullies and derision from others. When older, and joining the mercenary group's endeavors, she often seemed to absorb more blows than most others.

She really saw no way out of the situation, despite how much she bristled against the strict discipline of the outfit and their ways. One night though, she saw an angelic figure in the distance when she was alone trying to sleep. It promised her a different life, one of power balanced with compassion. Deciding to follow, she was led from the encampment and was offered a deal.  She would be granted new powers if she would pledge herself to this being.  Feeling immense relief that this would be her way out, it did not take long for her to pledge herself to this being.  It wasn't until the next morning that she realized the obvious mark of the change, with her hair magically turning orange and pink at the ends. This didn't go unnoticed amongst others and was soon a point of ridicule.

It took a little bit of time, but Vanizi grew more and more confident with her new abilities to bolster her.  Finally she had the courage to strike out on her own.  Her mercenary company was not far from Neverwinter when one night she slipped out from camp, never to return.  It took a bit for her to get her bearings - it was strange to her being on her own.  Ironically, her mercenary background made it easy for her to find simple jobs as a guard of some sort.  And with money she was able to find a decent little room in one of the middle-of-the-road taverns in town that she could stay in.  

Having a bit more stability now in a life that she actually has chosen, Vanizi now is at a point to reflect more on what she wants.  At the moment, it is to continue to learn to master these powers she's been granted.  And equally is important to try to understand what the being that gave her those powers wants and to figure out how to pay them back for that gift. 

One thing known for in town: Most obvious is that she is extremely recognizable due to her green, orange, and pink hair. She has also become well-known for her taste for fine food and fine alcohol.  

Zyl always had big dreams. Like, really big. But really everything is big when you're a fairy, right? Well if wishes come true, Zyl might be a partial example since a run in with a friendly giant a while ago helped spark a new path for her and gifted her with big potential. Unfortunately this also came with bit of side effect in the manner of the normally cheerful, happy go-lucky fairy having anger issues. Not all the time, mind you, but you could say when we gets mad, she rages. It's mostly under control though nowadays, mostly. But since her issues surfaced a few times among her kin (and not a few broken homes, literally) they politely urged her to leave and find a better place. That is how she came to Neverwinter, in a manner of speaking, and quickly settled in with the tavern crowds as a regular entertainer. Her unusual strength for one so small lent itself to great tricks and feats of strength and agility. 

So she lives in the city usually, although she makes regular visits to outlying areas when things are a bit slow in the city proper and has even helped out a time or two with the city watch since no one expects the buff fairy to be all that observant and has helped them...tackle a few problems. Speaking of problems, there is one big problem she hasn't figured out how to handle yet: a fellow entertainer and rival, Lorene, a halfling who has found herself sharing performance space with Zyl and made it quite clear she doesn't appreciate it. And she's won, so far. Zyl would just love to stick it to her just once. But along with that gaining a better reputation, and especially be able to return home and welcomed as one of their kind again.

Of course, everyone knows Zyl is also a total sucker for a pretty face, and she's not picky in that regard. Just about anyone who is good looking and shows her some attention makes her melt, for better or worse. A hopeless romantic she is. Come on, who doesn't want a hearty but adorable fairy girl to be theirs!? Right?...