Duath'miaca's page

Duath'miaca was born in the dark, like all his kin. But unlike his kin the dark was his friend, not just a part of the life of the drow. It was something that spoke to him, guided him, led him down paths to his liking. He had begun killing for his family at a young age. He hated them, hated killing for them. The killing itself he loved, just not for them. Told what to do in a mad chaotic scramble for power and the favor of demons, no. No rewards for him no stability. One day he found a book about Asmodeus in a library, and wow, here was a guy who had the right idea. Structure, power, contracts. Demons were so whimsical, so a devil would try to weasel its way out of a deal if you weren't smart enough to read the fine print. A demon would outright kill you mid contract on a bored whim. His secret devotion began.

While his brothers learned swordplay and his sisters magic, summoning spiders to torment Dumi, thats what they called him and gods did he hate spiders, little Dumi quickly found that the fastest way to the heart was through the back. Power and control was its own reward. He rejected the drow lifestyle of mindless slaughters and sexually charged violent escapades. He practiced solitude and discipline, honing his body into a killing machine, quick and quiet. Each body cooled into a stone upon which he stepped to further his own goals. Never frivolous, never wasteful, step by step, body by body.

Compact is the word, Dumi is built like a martial artist, short built like a brick, all muscle, 5'2 120lbs, wide for a drow. He was trademark white hair and wears a cloak and hood.

Dumi is a disciplined and driven man cold inside. His exterior demeanor is that of a roguish rake, one for flirting and drinking. When the job is on this demeanor drops away and he is all business. He believes in subjugating the weak but is not overly cruel, especially considering his kind.

In the perpetual black of the Underdark, Drow had lived and fought and schemed for thousands of years. A little over a hundred years ago, a powerful matriarch made a deal with a Black Dragon, part for the promise of the dragon to not destroy the city she had worked for hundreds of years to control, and in part to incorporate the ancienct primal power of dragons into her line. She bore a son called Duath'miaca his black drow skin, actually shimmering black scales of a half-dragon.

The boy was strong and ruthless, training in the fighting schools at a young age. He began to earn the hatred of some of his peers and their families. And not the passive hate that all Drow practice, open hate, born of fear. The matriarch had overplayed her hand, gained a powerful tool, to quickly. Her enemies began to amass to destroy her, she had to prempt them.

She had her oldest daughter take the boy, a strong 20 year old male into the wilds to kill him. She underestimated Duath'miaca's strength, the dragon within him. He killed his sister and forsook his heritage. Not out of disdain or disagreement with their way of life, but to him, it all seemed so...small.

For eighty years he traveled through the wilds of the underdark, until he came to the surface. Adjusting to the light and ways of the topside world, he found work as a criminal or hired muscle. Wandering the wastelands of the world for thirty years. Until he found the dark lady, she recognized his potential and offered him a chance to work for her, to prove himself. Gifted a pair of blades that were far sharper than any he had possessed so far in his long life.