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[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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Long before his times in the snowy cold of Stonegate, before his time of coming to Umbra, he was in the Underdark. The Night Below as some would call it. In nearly eight centuries of his long life, Alaundril had seen the surface and the sun for only short amounts of time. The blinding pain wasn't there anymore fortunately. His eyes had somewhat adjusted to the burning orb of light in the sky. As Alaundril moved out of the cave and looked out over the snow, his eyes teared. The brightness here made the old drow feel as if he were starting over again. A familar stone statue was grasped in his hand tightly, as he had been thinking much of how to employ one of his most dangerous friends. He opened his hand and looked at the beautiful obsidian scorpion statue. Something that was given to him long long ago by a faceless and nameless ally. There had only been a handful of times he had used the words to the enchantment tied to this little thing. It was crated in exquisite detail, red runes were etched over the statue. A langauge long forgotten, except by him.
Alaundril recalled the time when his little friend was bestowed upon him. It was shortly before the fall of House Do'rhett. He closed his eyes, slipping into reverie of the centuries past. Gone was the stinging cold wind of the north. Gone was the blinding white light of the surface....

Alaundril had served the Matron of House Do'rhett faithfully for his entire life. His affairs were always tied to the surface however. And his heart held no love for the Spider Queen. He had been associating with a small group of Vhaeraun worshippers in his city. After a long debate, it was decided that House Do'rhett must fall. Vhaeraun had deemed it necessary, as they had been slowly falling apart for months. The House's fall would not come from another Drow house though. It was decided that Alaundril. First male of House Do'rhett would implement a vicious tactic. The followers in the small group simply called it "d'vhid." In common it translates to "of chaos". Without this scorpion's doing, Do'rhett would fall, and nearly half of the followers of Vhaeraun would be slain through either sacrifice or by hunting them down. Alaundril was one of these nobles of House Do'rhett that did not share their Matron's views. It was Alaundril that was tasked to make the first crack in the structure. After a long night of pleasure and drinking, he left the stone statue in the Matron's bed chamber and simply disappeared from his homeland.
The chaos that followed was unfathomable. The scorpion had stung the Matron. The next day, she had slipped into a different mind. Her mind was muddled with the fires of chaos. While his Matron was usually calm and calculating, at least for a Matron of Lloth, she was consumed with anger after that fateful night. Her reason was numbed by the seed of chaos and she began to lash out at all of her followers. Even the most loyal and trusted. By the time the sacrifices had begun, Alaundril along with a dozen other noble males from various houses all left and sought their destiny on the surface. A similar fate befalling those houses. At the time, Alaundril only knew of one seed of chaos. This was not the case, and on the waning days before their departure, there was a wild witch hunt for the missing males, but due to the Matron's ilness, they were unable to organize. The other Sirah had planted similar scorpions with their Matrons as well. When the Matrons failed in finding them they did what Lloth bid them to...sacrifice countless souls. Males and females. None were spared from the conclave of Matrons desperate attempts to right their crumbling society.
All of these little scorpions had gone missing. But this one had returned to Alaundril shortly after his departure. He walked back inside the cave and looked at the Scorpion with a cruel grin. Even now, these centuries later, he found a wicked pleasure in the chaos that he and his Sirah had caused. Not even a blade was drawn and the ten houses of his people were split. Now, with the backing of a good military and an excellent hiding place, it would be easier to sew the seeds of chaos and disorder throughout the land. He lifted the statue to his eyes and whispered quietly in a dark foul language. Nothing happened at first, but then the small eyes on the Scorpion grew redder and redder. He could feel the thing beginning to move and it's tail began to move back and forth....
Alaundril grinned wickedly after the magical creature had awakened, he petted it gently along its back whispering quietly to it. It seemed to calm and he sat down on the stone flloor then beginning a long conversation of times past and dark schemes to come...

[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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Alaundril found himself returning this cave time and time again. He was comforted by the heavy stone around him, and something here seemed to help him organize his thoughts. After his lengthy conversation with his small scorpion friend he leaned back against the stone wall, remembering more of the times that he carried this little creature with him. He didn't know the origin of this magical black scorpion, he only knew the wisdom that it held. At times like these, it would guide him to the will of The Masked One. This place reminded him of his journey to the surface. This cold high rising mountain range. His eyes closed again this evening as he drifted to the place where reverie takes place...

Alaundril and his fellow outcast nobles made their way to the surface and made it up into the desert of Compassion. Despite the constant attacks by those hunting them. They had lost a few good Sirah on the way. They travelled then north to the cold mountain ranges near the human settlement of Minoc. It seemed fitting because the human population was fairly low. He hoped that would keep their society secret at least, until he wished otherwise. Once they reached the mountains, they began establishing a center of operations. It seemed as if Vhaeraun had willed it, as there was an abandoned temple bearing a similar Scorpion to their small scorpion friends. If it werent for that, Alaundril could have sworn that Drow had inhabited the place some ancient time in the past.
Out of necessity, the noble males spread out across the surface world. Using their wits and their skills to stay alive, keep their identities hidden and worm their way into the far more diverse society of the surface world. They mated with females of all races, diluting their noble line. This continued for a few centuries, until Alaundril stepped down as the Master of the Sirah only to the one called "The Boss". The first time the drow assassin had met The Boss was after they had gathered to share information shortly after their gathering, one of the younger ones that was barely of age when they left, brought a robed, masked man to Alaundril in his chamber.
"Usstan muth usstan vel'xunil wun udossta bulmiten harl."
Alaundril nodded
"Bel'la dos Riven. Dos inbal xunor uns'aa al. Elendar pholor."
With that said, he waved Riven Pitt off in a dismissive manner and turned his gaze to this "Boss". He was clearly Drow. Alaundril could tell by the skin and eyes. Though his eyes were much fiercer red than any drow he had ever seen. Alaundril sat behind the large stone desk, which was formerly an altar, but there was no need for such things now. His gaze feel on this intruder.
"Vel'uss ph' dos. Lu' lu'oh xunus dos ragar udossa?"
The masked drow looked at him, a bored expression in his eyes, "Ol zhahus Usstan nindel guided dos. Lu' Usstan inbal doer mrigg dos 'sohna. Usstan tlun sae'uth nindel ussta belbol zhahus used. Ilhar zhahus reiyal nauqu'allath."
Alaundril's eyes widened at the reference and he immediately got out of his chair and fell to a knee. "Orbdrinus Uss! Evagna uns'aa!"
The Masked one wave his hand and chuckled, a laugh that made the shadows move in the room.
"Dos zet nindol rathrea..."
The masked Drow set down the Black Scorpion statue that Alaundril had left behind in his Matron's bedroom almost 200 years ago.
"L' darthien ph' bein. Kyorl mina, screa rilbol dos shlu'ta. Cause vhid dalninuk. Dosst forgotten abbil orn tlu xuil dos."
As he said this, the Black Scorpion skittered across the stone to Alaundril. Alaundril put his hand down and let the creature crawl into his palm. Then brough it to eye level and surveyed this little black creature that had caused so much chaos and disorder.
The Boss was here, and the wisdom of the Masked One would guide them from now on....