Deor'c Aelf

Lore & Backstory

The truth behind the guild war, now that there's no one left it can hurt to tell.

Before he wore two faces, he was an elf born to the subterranean expanse known simply as the Deep. An autochthon, the native elves of the sunless realm, he possessed a natural grasp of arcane power, rising to become an adept sorcerer. Unlike the ruthless kin of his homeland, he possessed a disciplined, measured mind, leaning toward order rather than wanton cruelty. It was this temperance that allowed him to walk among surface dwellers, eventually joining a band of adventurers. For years, they ventured across the upper lands together, forging a genuine brotherhood as he honed his sorcery to formidable heights.

Duty inevitably dragged him back down the Deep. Summoned to face the grueling trials of his people, he descended into the Deep and failed. Cursed by the failure, his body was warped into a monstrous, sprindrel, a real life living horror. The top half of a humanoid, fused at the waist with the many-legged mass of a massive arachnid body. His mind shattered and his memories wiped away.

Years passed on the surface. Refusing to abandon their vanished companion, his old party mounted an expedition into the Deep. They found only a feral, cursed beast, but recognizing what was left of their friend, they refused to kill him. Believing the fate unjust, they subdued the creature, dragged him to the surface, and kept him contained until powerful magic finally broke the curse on his mind.

Sentience returned, and with it came the realization that he could never walk freely in his true monstrous form. Taking a new name, Deor'c Aelf, he set to work. Capable of altering his form through arcane means, he collaborated with a wizard to refine an apparatus that allowed him to consistently bypass the curse and assume humanoid guises. He settled on two identities: his original elf visage, and that same face recast with the fair tones of a high elf.

They set up a home to work from just south of Citavas Port City. Being so close to such a metropolis allowed them to find consistent and gainful work. From rescuing maidens, to slaying monsters, the group had plenty of adventures right there in Citavas.

Deor'c Aelf's home, south of Citavas../../images/deorc_aelf_home.jpg

The place still stands, walled in stone with a single gate, quiet under the mountains. It's mostly empty these days, the way any home is once the people who filled it are gone. Deor'c still returns to it now and then, though what draws him back, and what he does there alone, he's never said.

And then it happened. They were visiting Citavas Port City on business, delivering a rare artifact they'd been hired to retrieve. The Monitors are not known for being forgiving, and they were the client, an ancient artifact from an ancient ruin devoted to an ancient god. The mission was hard fought, but they retrieved the item. And then it was stolen from them.

The Roof Runners, the thieves' guild in the city, took it. And when they did, they killed one of Deor'c's companions. When they attempted to get it back, he lost the other two. Retreating back to his home, alone in the world, Deor'c's anger grew, and consumed him. He had only one thought: destroy the Roof Runners, burn the organization to the ground. Deor'c made vengeance his life's work.

He split his existence in two. Under the guise of a fair-haired high elf, he presented himself as a humble recruit to the Thieves' Guild, hiding his sorcery while mastering the arts of stealth, sabotage, and the blade. Simultaneously, wearing his original elf face, he infiltrated the Night Runners, training in their shadows and working his way into the confidence of the assassins.

For nearly fifteen years, Deor'c lived a double life, eventually rising to become an elite rogue in both syndicates. He deliberately avoided the absolute top ranks, keeping himself in the middle where he had the freedom to move, plan, and strike unseen.

When the time came, he struck. Out on missions with the thieves, he would execute his own partners in cold blood, returning to the guild with frantic reports of targeted assassinations by the Night Runners. Slipping into his other face, he intercepted the thieves' operations in the dead of night, leaving bodies for the underworld to find. He even became bold enough to kill a few Monitors, carefully planting evidence to implicate either guild, bringing the weight of the Monitors into the fray.

Every move was calculated, every corpse a calculated provocation. Now, with all three factions armed, suspicious, and bloodthirsty, the shadow war has finally ignited, and Deor'c gleefully watches the fire spread, fanning it every time there is a suggestion of peace.