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Zeblithtlar

Drow 'exotic dancer' working at a sleezy strip club at the seedy underbelly of the city.

0 · 287 views · located in Wing City

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Ironman11, as played by RolePlayGateway

Groups

A band of adventurers that were chosen for a quest that started out for mere stones through deceit. Nightfall is coming to Gaia with the Second Rising of Eras. The Champions will either plunge the world into darkness or bath it in everlasting light.

Description

ZEBLITHTLAR

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PYSHICAL INFORMATION

Race: Elf
Sub-Race: Dark Elf or Drow
Ethnicity: ‘Spider Kisser’ or Llothian Underdark
Height: 5’-1’’
Weight: 121 lb
Hair Color: Silvery
Eye Color: Red
Body Structure: Slender, Petite
General Health Condition: Moderate Health
Smoker?: Yes
Drinker?: Yes
Health Problems: Several Sexual Transmitted Diseases, Eating Disorder

SOCIAL INFORMATION

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio
Element: Water
Personality: Polite, Calm, Collected, Manipulative, Bigot, Two-Faced, Survivalist
Likes:
Dislikes:
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual
Political Affiliation: Political Independent
Occupation: Exotic Dancer
Social Class: Lower Class
Martial Status/Relationship Status: Single
Past Relationships: None (worth mentioning)
Friends: Duag Fryn'ithra
Enemies: Zen, EvaLazaro
Alliance: The Pleasure Den
Former Alliances: None

SPECIAL ABILITIES


GENERAL INFORMATION

Name: Zeblithtlar Adinaun
Alias: “Charlotte the Spider”
Rank or Title: None
Gender: Male
Age: 132
Age Appearance: Youthful
Character’s Alignment: Neutral
Character Class: Charismatic Hero
Date of Birth: 12th day of Farreach (November 19th)
Relevance to Wing City: The drow male is an employee of the seedy night club known as The Pleasure Den as well as a illegal immigrant to the city itself.

ORIGINS

Dimension or Space of Origin: Urban Arcana
Homeland: The Underdark
Education: The School of 10,000 Painful Beauties, a education in the arts of sensual pleasures and trades.
Backgrounds: Raised under the oppressive heel of a cruel society.
Biological Father:
Biological Mother:

STATS

Power:
8/30

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Speed:
11/30

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Awareness:
14/30

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Combat:
8/30

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Intellect:
19/30

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Technique:
19/30

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Endurance:
8/30

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Magic Resitance:
10/30

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Vitality:
13/30

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Engery:
5/30

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Spiritual:
8/30

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Power
How much power this character has in terms of strength and how hard the character hits

Speed
How fast this character moves in terms of running to attacks.

Awareness
How fast this character reacts and realizes.

Combat
How well this character is in melee and how well attacks are executed.

Intellect
How smart this character is in information and analyzing things, objects, and people.

Technique
How well this character uses skills/magic

Endurance
How much damage or injuries this character can take.

Magic Resistance
How much resistance toward magic this character can take as well as endure it.

Vitality
How much stamina this character has to move around.

Energy
How much energy this character has to use skills and magic

Spiritual
How well this character is connected with religion/gods/spirits/

POCCESSIONS


HISTORY

So begins...

Zeblithtlar's Story

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Zeblithtlar passed through the dark streets of Sol Avenue alone as the crowds of maggots and inferiors normally seen bluzzling about have seemed to suddenly vanish away and the only sign of life was the occasional painful flash of head lights of a passing car zooming by.

The dark elven man flinched and cringed at the sight before pulling his arms away revealing his alluring and handsome form before him. The exotic drow male shifted his light sensitive eyes over to a bright flashing neon sign outside spelling out Gambit's Bar in very vivid colors.

He took a deep breath, his seines feeling sore and cold from tonight before the male pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket. Sticking a smoke between his lips he left out a bit of smoke before finally pushing through the doors relatively keeping his head low as he gazed inside the bar room itself.

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Zeblithtlar eyes were drawn to that of DOSH. The man had barked something foul at another man, and the drow could already see the sighs of a brawl between the two men and by the tone of the man's voice a bringing of the authorities into the matter.

He paused for a brief moment still standing by the entrance way as the slender and exotically alluring dark elf stroke his own chin. It was then when the man before him announced his own little motto and then claimed to possess skills and abilities to highly keen in the art of killing. His matter of weapon though, was quite unorthodox.

If anything this would be a good entertainment for the evening as the drow quickly moved over to a corner. As he moved over he witness a male choking a female, a perfectly interesting test of instinct and strength and saw the young female's struggling as an excuse to the proud gender.

Then again to admit that out loud would most likely make the drow very unpopular and it was not his desire to attract attention to himself.

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Zeblithtlar heard a tongue which he had not heard over a great age of time... His attention had been transfixed on the potential allies exchanging steel to observe that of his own kind before his vision. A slight grin rose up from Zeblithtlar's face as the slender drow male bowed before the other drow. This was not out of personal respect, but a man who was armed would be less likely to attack the simple dancer if he showed little threat to him.

"Many of the greetings my fair male..." He spoke in a thick elvish accent his words though sauved with a light and friendly tune as he rose from his bow. "I am most brained in the human speaking...Though is a language I am get used to."

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Zeblithtlar knows as much common as an orge who took a high school course in it.XD

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Zeblithtlar let out a light chuckle at the fellow compatriot's merry humor. "Van'du Verrian Sisan nerrdealiloth..." he somewhat uttered out in undercommon quickly muttering under his breath that 'It is a language of slaves anyhow.'

After the brief and subtle tone comment Zeblithtlar uttered what he truly wished to say "Worridian narun vendarri'seelion adunain pro'valus norhigh." he announced thanking the honorable sir the fine tips and crittice in his skill in common. His words in undercommon were surprisingly far more refined than that of his common.

A complete foil his words had a tune of beauty in them, each word falling out of his lips and emitted the fine sense of sweet honey dripping from his mouth quite pleasing to the ear.

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Zeblithtlar simply smile a gentle smile as he nodded his silvery head. "Jarren val'duvien..." he announced stating in undercommon that he would 'Desire that' seeing that the terms 'like' or 'love' possessed very different context or did not exist at all in the dark elven language.

He released more smoke from his cigarette as he began to pace over to the bar counter itself inviting the taller and more boarder warrior to follow him as he motioned to sat down.

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Zeblithtlar joined him on his laugh before the drow looked to the stock. It took him a brief while as he somewhat took a gander at the small dose of famous common poison known in the underdark to completely paralysis a being for hours at end.

He patted the inside of his pocket before his eyes finally feel upon the brown bottles upon the shelves and then slightly longily for the wines locked in the case far bellow them. "I am tending to like the alcholic yeast of the juice known as 'beer' to the sun touched..." he announced as he motioned a finger "Darvan alvez morran decar tomarz! Lovarus lomel verran" he admitted though in underdark stating that wine would be much better if there was something to celebrate.

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Zeblithtlar gentle smile turned into a very pleased grin as he slightly cheered in his thick evlish accent. He spoke in his pleasing tone of undercommon once more standing in common translation as to "Forgive my rude manners! We have been exchanging quite fine conversation and we have not even traded names! I am known as Zeblithtlar, though most would know me as 'Charlotte' one of the many sensual dancers at the Pleasure Den near the central downtown area.'

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Zeblithtlar stroke his chin delighted to see the glasses of wine was brought before the two. The drow released more smoke from his cigarette before dropping in a common poison indicator in each of the two glasses the liquids being fine as he placed the vial back into his person.

"Reindeuan Duag Dryn'ithra, Verridian ludash nor'viel vol'uron." he announced back stating that it was indeed an honor to meet him... and a pleasure. With a bright smile across his face he continued to speak as he pressed his fingers to his chin once more "Wor'loth navu s'lat'halin?" he inquired desiring to know how skilled of a blade he truly was.

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Zeblithtlar smile had rosen to its peek. A strong warrior as his ally could prove quite useful if he ever gotten into any matter of trouble. With the right words, right actions, right way he could portray things the drow could easily manipulate his new associate into a blossoming good friendship.

After all, in the blight that was the sun scorched surface world he could always have great use of friends. With a twirl of his wine glass he chuckled abit more "La'vantis'naun do'garrin warrien.." he announced stating it had been a great age in the sea of time since he had tasted the fine fruits of good wine.

He then raised his glass in the honor of his company "The sharing with good the people makes a beverage much more good." he announced in common in his thick elvish accent "To you the good sir."

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Zeblithtlar simply nodded his head in agreement. But deep inside the drow promised to say a pray for his compatriot. For the great and powerful Lloth to send carnivorous spiders to crawl as he laid in trance and consume him alive for that statement.

He sipped down the wine glass in the toast. He slightly blushed at the taste of the fine wine before pulling away the glass and placing it back on the counter. "Lu'rash Deverian watgosh." he stated in undercommon stating "blessed is the taste of good wine."

"We also do the crashing of the glasses in the speak of to be free. Not agree?" he commented.

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Zeblithtlar paused for a brief moment before nodding his head as he took another sip of his glass. "By all means, please do." he suggested in undercommon.

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Zeblithtlar paused for another moment taking in all that he had heard. This emotion of weakness or of madness he would never had suspected that it would infect the mind of a perfectly sane drow warrior. He felt feelings of disgust for this creature, more than that of the creatures that viewed him with their preverted eyes back at his place of work.

These creatures were acting on their own animal instincts, it was in their nature. This though, he knew far much better than this and this was just unacceptable.

The drow smiled as a hand slightly motioned over to grasp that of his new ally "I would like to make you an oath friend... I want to first get to know you a bit better before I can use that worthy title. Will you allow me to take such a pact?" he inquired to the dark elf male.

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Zeblithtlar chuckled a small bit as he drunk a bit more wine from his glass before he refilled both of the glasses. "Val'run, Val'run." simply saying 'good, good' in undercommon before stating that tonight would be a good night to drink and enjoy themselves as he passed him back his wine glass.

"Agreed?"

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Zeblithtlar blew some more smoke from his cigarette as he enjoyed a lot more wine from the glass only feeling a tad bit tispty from the taste. He leaned inward motioning his arm to wrap around the much larger fellow as a bright smile was still around the drow's face.

"Revir lo'lasnaun novar a'tila val'nargan erro'tin! Mavatys dor'remgar 'awe inspiring'." He stated in undercommon stating how he was quite popular within the workplace because he was a drow. That somehow because they have not seen the other dark elven men dancing it was very exotic and alluring.

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Zeblithtlar waved a hand away dismissing the comment. "Not at all... how else I am suppose to learn more about you Duag?" he inquired back in undercommon as he took another fine sip of his wine glass. His eyes slowly lingered over to the man's muscles he did not know what female would not desire in her passions admiring the fine pysche for a brief moment before shifting his attention back to the dark elf.

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Zeblithtlar sipped a little bit more of the wine as he enjoyed the fine company this drow male provided despite the fact that he was a revolting and pathetic creature. He extuisguished his cigarette into a nearby ash tray as he released the remainding smoke from his lips.

Afterward he paused for a brief moment before motioning in a bit closer as he began to whisper something into his ear in undercommon.

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Zeblithtlar rose from the stool as well his compatriot was a bit woozy as the shorter dark elven man offered his arm to lightly lean upon to keep his own balance. "Verridian val'rut?" he inquired asking if Duag had a place of residence the two drows could venture off to.

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Zeblithtlar tapped his chin once more before handing a few bills for a cheap room for tonight to the bartender and the bartender actually passed the two a key. With a bright smile he shifted his attention back to the drow himself.

"Shall we depart?" he inquired before heading upstairs to the hotel rooms far above.

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Zeblithtlar /me shoved both of his hands into his pockets as he paced the streets of Wing City. Cars passed by and the sidewalks were actually flooded with all matter of creatures of the night who conducted their deviant business at only the late hours. The drow could feel the small switch blade he kept in his jacket's pocket to try scare off some common crook or some junkie desperate for his next fix.

He cringed at the sight of the head lights as they zoomed passed stumbling to a doorway before the lights subsized. He paused glancing up to see the bright neon colors greeting him before the sign to Gambit's Bar. Taking a deep breath and a brief smoke the drow male entered through the doors feeling a tad bit cold from the night air.

Inside he took a gander around The Bar Room. Before him were a large crowd of maggots and slave fodder of all kinds, revolting a disgusting animals that did not claim their world on their own accord but due to the simple luck that something more superior did not surface with them. Still, the drow kept his bigotry to himself not saying a word and keeping a relatively friendly smile as he walked over to a local table away from the windows.

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Zeblithtlar /me sat down at his table taking more breaths of the toxin smoke that fumed out of his cigarette bud. Tobacco excess ran out of his nostrils and from his lips as he took a moment to take recollect himself after a very hard day of work. The digusting things he had to do at that revolting place to simple meet end's rent and of all things it was much better than flipping burgers or working at some airless room of large machines.

It was around this time when the drow lifted his attention away from his moment of silence thoughts. His red eyes fell upon a stranger glancing back at him. He was a quite fantastic specimen he had to admit, even for that of a beast or animal. He extinguished his own lit cigarette not desiring to overly smell like smoke and ash as he lifted himself from his own table.

Passing patron and patron, table to table he made his way to the table of Rai Lux. He spoke in an incredible thick elvish accent, his words and common pathetic and meager in vocabulary to that of even the average speaker "Hello, I ask to the man if table is...prepared." he announced trying to inquire if it was alright to sit down.

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Zeblithtlar smiled back, a bright look of relief secretly came to him that he would not have to continously screech out that horrible language he felt like an utter fool spitting outward. He slowly sat down at his seat as his alluring crimson red eyes turned their attention to Daug Fryn'ithra once more before a slight grin formed from his already friendly smile.

Shifting his attention back to the man before he was quite impressed in how graceful he was in undercommon as he stroked his chin impressed. The drow's undercommon was a complete foil of his common words, the tune soothing and polite and refined as though his words were sweet honey pouring from his lips with the pronunciation of each siliable.

"Vol'Nas dor'untani das'nalatie. (I thank you most merciful sir)" thanking him for the honoring seeing that the words 'Kind' or 'good' were almost non existence within the tongue. "Lo'Dash veridan?" he inquired to Daug as he shifted his form asking in undercommon "What kind of assitance" that he needed.

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Zeblithtlar will have to actually get off because his writer is now extermely poofed. Hopefully tomorrow night he will be able to meet and chat with some of you fine folks.

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Zeblithtlar emerged out of Side Alley a brief ritual with the other llothians in the local chapter here in the city had commenced. He took a smoke of his cigarette before putting his hand into the inside of his own shirt feeling the large bloody gash that was now bandaged and covered up.

The local priestess was a strong powerful figure amongst the worshipers who desired absolute obedience from the others... To the letter and to her will. Something the dark elf resented and at the same time admired in her as it was far more commanding of his respect then the revolting animals that littered the streets and the ruling caste.

Zeblithtlar shifted his attention over to the semi-bright neon lights of Gambit's bar that was placed above the door way. Taking another smoke he eyed the insides for a brief moment, regular patrons, the slave fodder and the mindlessly morale that filled the tables and counters.

With a puff of smoke the drow's somewhat sickly grim frown turned into a friendly smile as he pushed the doors inside enjoying the lovely early evening as the sun had set over the city itself. Inside there was a buzz of talking, the room smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke and some music from a juke box was drowned by the sound of chatter all about.

His attention suddenly shifted away from all of this though, as for the moment he turned his attention to a figure with hold very superior resemblances to his own ilk. Indeed a fascinating specimen as he blew more smoke and inspected how Sylver had been rumaging through the strange machine that produces the currency and eat it at the same time.

He paused for a brief moment observing to his left and right how no one did much about this and simply shrugged it off.. After all, he was not employed here, why should he try to stop an armed robber?

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Zeblithtlar rubbed the inside of his shirt.. The bandages still irritated him a little bit yet healing magic was expensive and there was no way he was going to trusted the flithy revinir hospitals. He paused for a brief moment as his exotic red eyes fell upon Kat Hawkins who was relaxing herself at the bar counter. Her form was lushous, somewhat alluring but then he caught eyes with EvaLazaro.

Her eyes were wide like some stupid animal that was somewhat transfixed with him. He was confused honestly confused on why the woman was giving such a look but that confusion only increased when a One Eyed Warrior faulted a gun right into his face.

"Now, what do you think you're doing?" he asked which the drow was about to answer before he interrupted him like an oaf "You're ruining the nice conversation I'm having with this lovely lady. Now Please, explain what in the hell you're doing."

He did not pause, he knew this man could pull the trigger at any moment. Sweat ran down his face as he uttered out an answer in broken common "I..I... walk to the place of drinks... What happening here!?" He asked in a thick elvish accent "Please! No kill! No Kill!"