Work Text:
Xarann Silverbrush
Datura’s father and arguably the coolest member of her family. Xarann was born with no last name as a low class Lolth drow, which is why he took on Sylvia’s surname once they married. Appearance wise, Xarann had long, silver hair, dark purple skin, and a strong, athletic build. He was in his early 120s when he escaped, and died when he was in his 170s.
Xarann lived a pretty abysmal life in the Underdark. He was born into a low class family, and growing up had about as good of an experience as you could as a low class drow. His family was… not murderous, and he was given enough resources to grow strong enough to join the army. He worked as a low level grunt, doing dirty work Lolth wished for for her glorious chaos. He never climbed the ranks, but did quietly get stronger and wiser. He did all that Lolth wished him and his squad to do, for a long time, but slowly heard whispers of a drow that left the Underdark. A male drow, at that. How such a traitor could do such a thing was unheard of! However, he found contraband about a certain Drizzt Do’Urden, and read about his escapades and successes. How Drizzt made a life for himself on the surface, happy. He was good.
Xarann began to research more information about surface dwellers, and how small and pacifistic they were without the constant turmoil of the Underdark. He pretended to be doing it as research on the enemies, yet secretly slowly came to see how barbaric the Lolthsworn drow were. He slowly realized how he despised fighting, not due to being weak but from not wanting to harm others he had no reason to.
So on a moonlit night, he escaped. Xarann’s squad had left the Menzoberranzan, and it was the closest he had ever been to the surface. During his watch, he saw an opportunity to flee and he took it without ever looking back. He ran, and ran, and ran out of the Underdark, careful to evade any other drow, spiders, or any other agent of Lolth. When he reached the surface, he saw the glowing, shining full moon and knew he would be safe.
He made his way to Trollbridge, the closest town to Menzoberranzan. There, he found some Eilistraeen drow who welcomed their newly saved brother into their community, as they received a message from Eiliistraee herself to come save him. With his new family, he made his way towards Baldur’s Gate for his new mission.
Sylvia Silverbrush
Sylvia was a human who worked in Baldur’s Gate. She was a typical human, working at a lodge for the many travelers who passed through the city on business. She worshipped Selune, and welcomed all travelers who came through. When she was 24, she met Xarann. She was no stranger to the Eilistraeen drow who commonly stopped by with rescued drow, but was surprised when Xarann came through. He had an energy to him that was electric, enticing, and almost carnal, while still having a soft kindness. She fell head over heels for him and began her best efforts to court him. Xarann at first shied away from her advances, for he believed he had so much to do before he could be at the level of grace, serenity, and kindness she offered him. It was a long game of cat and mouse, but after a few years she won and he agreed to her advances on his terms.
Xarann wanted to ensure they were equals in as many ways as possible. He also emphasized his desire for if they had children, they would need to be raised in the Eilistraeen faith. Sylvia agreed to this, but doesn’t convert to the faith. Her goddess, Selune, offers her to, saying she’d understand and as long as Sylvia still finds the beauty of the moon and continues to fight darkness - a mission her husband supports - she’d be happy to lose a follower. However, she refuses, being headstrong. She did support the Eilistraeen drow in her own way, by polishing Xarann’s armor, bringing food to the Eilistraeen drow, and most importantly, supplying information from those who passed through the tavern and disregarded her. By acting as an unassuming woman, she was able to gain so much information from men who underestimated her intelligence and ability.
After 5 years of courting, the two were married. They had the ceremony under the very full moon that saved both of them. Xarann took Sylvia’s surname to honor her and her lineage, and as a secret to only himself, to continue the matriarchal tree.
After 5 more years, a baby girl was born. They named her Datura. A poisonous flower which can cause hallucinations, illness, and even death. It was a name to honor the history Xarann came from, in their family’s own way. The toxic society he came from, the love Lolth drow had for poisoning. However, the beautiful flower also shows the possibilities of growth. As she grew, she was so much like her mother, so much like her father. She was fiercely protective of her family and fought for them from a young age.
Four years later, Nerium was born. Named after Oleander, another poisonous flower. Their two beautiful, perfect girls who could do no wrong. Names hold weight, and Datura and Nerium regarded this and held pride in their names and their history. Their strong father who fought for what’s right, and their wonderful mother who made sure she got what she wanted.
Growing up
Datura was quite protective of her little sister. When the two went to school, she would always look out for little Nerium. When people bullied or picked on her, Datura would give back whatever they dished, ten fold. No one could hurt Nerium, not after everything their parents did for their sake.
As Datura entered her teen years, she began to become more active within the Eilistraeen community. She went with her father on simple missions and activities, spreading Eilistraee’s word to show how not all drow are evil, drow can live alongside other humanoids. She was living proof! Nerium was shyer, and did not want to go on such outings with her father. She would usually stay home, go to school, or hang out with her friends.
Datura had less friends, but had one friend who she met while out on a mission with her father, Iliana. Datura had been told to go get more supplies from a shop, where she met the other girl who was around her age. The two got on like a house on fire, with Iliana’s outwardness and bubbly personality being a great foil for Datura’s more reserved, relaxed temperament.
Once Datura was 18, she was formally invited to join the Eilistraeen paladins, like her father. She was overjoyed. As she was now following his stead, Xarann began to stop going out on missions to enjoy more time with Sylvia who was getting a bit older. Once Datura was confirmed in her oath, she celebrated with her family and Iliana’s. When she went on her first real mission, Iliana was the last person she said goodbye to. With a hug and a kiss on the forehead, they said farewell.
After that, the two slowly began to grow apart as Datura spent less and less time within Baldur’s Gate. It wasn’t like they didn’t want to be friends, but their lives went in different paths, as adults do sometimes. When Iliana received word her apprenticeship in Waterdeep was beginning, the two celebrated, as they did when Datura’s adult life began. They hugged again, Datura gave her beloved friend a kiss on the forehead again, and they said farewell again.
They wouldn’t see each other for another 6 years.
Throughout all this, Nerium stayed home, working at the lodge like her mother. She had quick fingers and was excellent at the fast math the lodge required. Smart, witty, intelligent. However, the idea of going out in a suit of armor never appealed to her, even though she worshipped Eilistraee like the rest of her family. She was always far more gentle and shy when compared to her admittedly awkward sister. She always wanted a simple, quiet life where she could be herself, and not worried about anything in a successful career. She could have gotten a job at the Counting House, even with her talents, but her future was cut short one evening.
The Tragedy
One day when Datura was 24 she was able to come home from a long mission. She was exhausted, worn out, and ready for a hot meal with her parents and sister.
She walked into their home, and the smell of iron and death hit her.
Datura rushed in, and nearly retched at the sight. Her mother and father lay in a pool of blood, together. A sword to the side of Xarann. Sylvia reached out towards him, fingertips burnt.
Nerium sitting, hair disheveled, sparks flying from her hands, covered in blood. Laughing.
Datura saw red, and rushed at Nerium. She screamed, she sobbed, and slashed her sword at her younger sister. Nerium tackled Datura with unfounded strength, and brought her hand to Datura’s face. A flame spell hit Datura’s eye and she screeched in pain, as her vision went white. She managed to push Nerium off of her, and through her hazy vision wrestled her to the ground. Through the searing pain, she placed her hands around Nerium’s neck, and squeezed. She kept squeezing, and tightening her grasp, ignoring the coughing and crying from Nerium.
She heard footsteps. She looked up. There were the Flaming Fists. Through her one good eye, she saw them enter. In a moment of fear, panic, and grief, she got up and ran.
She ran, and ran, and ran through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, wheezing and choking on her own spit. Her foot hit an elevated cobblestone, and she tripped and hit the ground, knocking the wind out of her. As her breath came back, she realized she felt different. She felt off.
She felt powerless in all senses of the word. She looked up at the full moon above her. For the first time in her life it was cold and ruthless.
She had disappointed her goddess and she deserved this punishment.
She curled into a ball and wept, never having felt so small.
Eventually the guards found her. They took her in for questioning and they saw her story rang true. They let her go.
And she was truly alone, and would stay alone as for two long, lonely years, she refused to let anyone in. A punishment to herself, and as a boon to others. She completed odd jobs and bounties in order to afford food, roaming around Faerun to not get too comfortable.
She lived like this until she met a certain fellow half elf who helped bail her out of an orc raid gone terribly, terribly wrong…