The Bitter Fallen
The real name of Asdar
After this reincarnation he has gone by the alias Asdar.
Davhorn is a Drow Barbarian, and unheard of combination resulting from a life built on survival mostly isolated from his people. He is large by Drow standards, perhaps one of the largest of his kind and for this has always been regarded as an oddity. Being a Drow, he is more intelligent than most that take on the Barbarian class. He places value on strength and endurance and cares little for knowledge that does seem to have direct application in his current success and survival.
On the surface he’s a moody fellow, and wears his heart on his sleeve more than the average Drow. It’s never hard to guess his feelings. His disposition is typically pleasant, but changes fast. He assumes offense more often than it is warranted, the result of years of slavery. He fights with a wild ferocity. He requires few comforts, but thoroughly enjoys a good meal and takes a liking to ornaments many would probably consider over-gaudy – though he’s does not wear many ornaments for tactical reasons. He keeps his head shaved wears a gold earring.
Davhorn’s entire tribe was destroyed by human raiders when he was a very young boy (equivalent to 6-years human). He hid and survived the ordeal, but was the only living survivor in the camp. Ashamed of his cowardliness, he took the dagger from his mother’s body and pursued raiding party.
Under the cover of darkness, he slipped into the leaders tent and attacked him in his sleep. He was caught in his attack, scarcely scratching the knight. Then this knight roared in laughter at the aggression of this “Beast-Child”. He refused his men the gratification of killing the boy, but instead enslaved the child. As Davhorn grew older, this man took a fond interest in gambling, using Davhorn as his “prize-fighter”, sporting him against many slaves and beasts. In all this, Davhorn was treated more as an animal than a man. He lived caged among the fighting dogs, mistreated and feed only blood, with the thought that it would make him more all the more ferocious.
As the child grew, this man’s women grew afraid of Davhorn. She claimed she could see deep hate in his eyes and feared the beast would one day kill them all. Day after day she pleaded with him to kill the slave, though the great wealth Davhorn had brought this man compelled him to resist her. Finally, after her fears nearly lead her to madness, he told her he had killed Davhorn, which gave her much peace. Unknown to her, he had actually brokered a deal to sell Davhorn to far off merchant.
Davhorn, locked in a reinforced box, was shipped many days out of that country, to never see or know it again. After a long turn of events, Davhorn found himself chained in the company of slaves in the belly of merchant ship on a sea he knew not.
After several weeks at sea, an opportunity arrived he had been waiting years for. A negligent slaver, unaware of the strength Davhorn was capable of calling on, bound him with the weaker bonds of a common slave. Davhorn tore the chains free and lead a slave rebellion. They quickly took control of the ship, killing each of the masters – many by his own hand. Though he gave them their freedom, the other slaves wanted nothing to do with him. They feared him greatly. Some even attempted, to their own demise, to lock him away as slave once more. They drifted for days, eating through the ratios with no land in sight and no sense of navigation – it was only a matter of time until they all died of starvation or shipwreak.
Davhorn killed those that stood in his way and escaped, alone, with the ship’s life raft and some rations. He drifted many days, hiding as he could from the sun’s deadly rays. By happenstance or fate, he was found drifting on the high seas by a Pirate ship captained by a fellow Drow of the name Hessian. Our own Smitty also served on that boat. The Pirates, seeing use in his strength, in time welcomed him to their crew. There he learned to fight for his own honor and not simply the purse of his masters.
During this time he acquired his “Goggles of Day” to overcome his natural weakness to the sun. He refused to hide from the daily rays, seeing that as a limitation he would not accept. A limitation his old masters enjoyed exploiting. He trained himself to use weapons, favoring the damage produced by two-handed greataxe most of all. As his skill increased Hessian took notice, often asking Davhorn to lead the charge in a raid and laughing heartily over the damage one man could do to so quickly.
As they traveled the seas, Davhorn always searched for signs of the country he had come from. Deep in his heart he always longed to have his revenge on the man the who had ruined his life and imprisoned him all those years ago. So far his search has turned up nothing, but he continues to seek out that place.
Approximately 10 years ago he accompanied his captain to the Underdark at the request of the maidens. He did not return to the surface. He is not as open with you what those years held, but it is rather clear that they weren’t his fondest. After many years out of country he was broken to realize he had no home. He belonged neither among the Drow nor the humans.
Recently, at the request of his old shipmate Ick-Ben, he was sent by the matrons to the Island to support the efforts going on there.