Name: Lil'alure
Age: 140
Race: Drow
Height: 5 7"
Hair: Silver, wavy hair, often a curly strand or two

Lil'alure grew up in a typical drow city, an oppressive place ruled by the Clergy of Lolth. His birth as the 5th son of a minor noble left him useless as an heir, as all his elders were brothers. He also had a younger sister whom he cherised, as both had quite a lot in common, especially both being excellent spymasters and having like mind-sets. She ended up being trained as a Lolth Priestess and he as a blademaster, studying in the Mle-Maghtere. They still worked together until she was initiated into the Clergy. At the time, Lil'alure had grown into a good bladedancer, if still needing some final training. It was here he earned his nickname; Lil'alure, meaning "Dance" in Common. He also began reading ancient drow grimoires and books, trying to find worthwile information. Leading his small band of like-minded away from his sister, their once friendly relationship developed into indifference from his sister's side, but Lil'alure still hoped to align himself with her as he still cared for her.

One day Lil'alure learned from his spies that he was to be married to a Lolth Priestess. Horrified at being married to her, he decided he would need to flee. He certainly didn't want a life of servitude! As the others didn't know of his knowledge of the events in place for him, he announced he was going to lead a raid to the surface. Promising booty, glory and slaves to his spies and several other soldiers, they started to ready the raid. At the last moment, it was announced that his sister was to accompany him. As he had no choice, he decided to let her come along, keeping his sinister intentions to himself.

The expedition finally reached the surface, everyone but Lil'alure blissfully unaware of the doom that was laid upon them the moment they left the city... In the night, Lil'alure slit his friends' and allies' throats, continuing his silent work as the band rested. The sentries were killed by Lil'alure's poisoned food, then he continued his dark work with them as well. Wiping his dagger on his last friend's coat, Lil'alure felt numb and empty inside. Even if they barely could have been called friends, he felt a slight regret for having to kill them. As he neared his sister's pallet, he found it empty. Sighing in relief, he spun on his heel as he heard a deliberate cough from behind him. His sister was standing in the shine of the moon, eyeing him coldly.

"You think to slay us all and escape the marriage?" she said coldly.
Nodding, he suddenly started. How did she know that he knew of it!? Seeing his startled expression, she chuckled darkly.
"Of course I knew you knew. You and your merry band of miscreants and sneaks, you can't believe I'd forget your henchmen? Now, you can lie to the leaders and say we were attacked by other elves... but then you must marry her."
Lil'alure looked at her, her old nature so totally whisked away.
"I will never marry that woman, she would have me as a slave. She will let me rot in the horrible union." Lil'alure was quite surprised to hear these words escape his lips.
"Ah, but you are going back, brother." She just looked at him, Lil'alure shuddered slightly.
"Let me go, sister."
Drawing her unholy Lolth symbol, a black disc with an engraved spider.
"Let me go now, or I will kill you."
Brandishing the symbol, Lil'alure heard arcane words being chanted.
"Sister!" Lil'alure threw his dagger, watching it embed itself in his sister's stomach.

She fell backwards as Lil'alure fled into the forest, trying to escape his past. After a while of wandering, he joined the Bregan D'aerthe, an Elven mercenary company. He began building up his network again before leaving for Trinsic, with the blessings of the Company.