The Drow Hexblade, Arcana Witch
Lady Spades is a tall, deeply black Drow. A reformed Lolth Priestess, now a Hexblade Warlock, she made a nasty gloom back to keep the many Eyes of Lolth at bay. She keeps her white hair up in a beehive style twist.
She’s quite well endowed in her chest area and her tongue is by far more leathal than any damage she could dish out. But that’s not to say her Eldric bolt isn’t something to note.
In the Underdark, life isn’t much different than life, topside. There are still merchants, families, healers and leaders, except with a tinge of ever-looming evil. But, really, evil exists everywhere. Drow Society was simply less apologetic about it.
Lady Spades, was one such Priestess of Lolth, of the 8th house. She herself, as cunning and intimidating as any other, wasn’t very interested in the politics of the social-hierarchy. Spades tired to live a simple, unobtrusive life in the twisted Menzoberranzan Underdark. If she was never-known, if she was never idolized, if she never had her own house, she was certainly fine with that. Her lack of murderous ambition made Spades an oddling amongst the malicious company she kept.
However, fate enjoys picking on those who avoid greatness like the plague.
In trying to simply do her duties to the Spider Queen, she became good at them. Too good. Her sacrifices seemed more favored, her prayers seemed answered more promptly. ‘The nail that sticks out the furthest, gets hammered first‘, as the humans say.
Whispers are the common mode of information transport in Menzoberranzan. And unbenounced to Lady Spades; her Higher Sisters threatened by her astuteness, and her Lesser-Acolytes, Hungry for her position, began to close down like a jaw upon the priestess.
On the Eve of the Festival of Webs, their plan would come to fruition. And surely, they’d please their Patron Goddess in the process.
Within the chambers of their most prized temple, under the summons of a festival emergency. Spades made a quick rushed to see her Higher Sisters.
“My honories, what is the matter?” Lady Spades, asked holding a rather short note in her hand, “This has been planned for months, what could have possibly gone wrong?”
The most notable of the Higher sisters, stood. Chadra. She was the oldest out of any of their clutch. But age was wearing on her beauty and she filled the cracks in her perfection with scorn and bitterness.
“Lady,” Chadra started, “It seems the Sacrifices have been prematurely executed.”
Spades simply groaned, “Those Eladrin men would have been perfect! How did this happen! What will we do!?” And she pinched the bridge of her nose, utterly annoyed. High Elf flesh was expensive! And now it was wasted! Guards were idiots.
But Chadra didn’t seem worried. Not one bit. She raised her elegant hand and gave a soft, venomous smile, “Worry not, Priestess. We’ve come to a better decision for tonight’s festivities.”
This, Spades had to hear. The old bat hardly had viable ideas anymore. Chandra was a ordainment upon a mantle, a decoration, rather than actually useful. Her amused expression crept onto Spades dark face.
Chadra, mused back at her fellow Drow, “The council believes that it would Please out Mistress greatly, to see her prominent servant become a drider.”
At first Spades didn’t catch it. That seemed like a good idea actually, if anything, it’d be entertaining for the crowds.
But the clarity came when the first guards grabbed her arm, The Higher-Sister’s words vibrated in her mind. The Sacrificial Devout, that was supposed to be her?
“Wait. What?” Spades tried to pull her arm back, but they wouldn’t let her free, “You can’t be serious! Driders are monsters!” Surely, someone…someone touched in the head…would find the privilege in it. But she herself, had zero yurning to be mutated into her deity’s likeness.
But, Chadra laughed lightly, highly content, “My girl, you will come around to it. Surely it’ll be the climax of your illustrious temple career.”
“No! I’ve no interest!” Spades cried out!
“Your interest, isn’t any of our concern.” And Chadra looked at her nails, as they were currently more interesting, “You’re dismissed until tomorrow evening.”
Spades continued to loudly protest, struggling with the guards. Under the thick, multi-layered priestess robes, any real part of her was difficult to grab. Wiggling left and right, Spades fought he way out of the ceremonial garb, leaving her captors holding only a heavy coat.
And like a rat with its tail on fire, she ran. Bolting from the temple chamber, fleeing with a long stride, Lady Spades turned over hot ash pots of individually standing lamps. Putting anything she could find in between herself and her captors. Throwing down acolytes, pushing down slaves, she absolutely tore through that temple towards the exit.
Breathing deeply, Spades took the steps down two at a time and they chased her like a common criminal! Like a lowly thug! As if it were some crime, to not strive to be a spider beast.
Picking up her skirts, she shoved through the bustling crowd, trying to put as much space between herself and Lolth’s temple. As if it hadn’t already been painfully clear to Spades didn’t belong, that Menzoberranzan was no place for the likes of her.
Sprinting along the gravel streets, there was nothing to really do, but keep running.
The 8th house, her home and family, would sell her out instantly.There were no friends in Drow society, merely temporary alliances. And Spades had none strong enough to defy a High-Sister of Lolth.
Momentary favor was much more valuable than honor in the Underdark. The law of the land, was kill or be killed. Now, Spades was on the short end of that stick.
There was only one place no cave-dweller idly ran off into. With only the cloths on her back, the danty priestess savagely tore through shadows and rocks. Climbing the incline outwards, towards the daylight above.
Become a drider? They’d have to catch her first. And she dared them to follow.
Maybe they weren’t behind her anymore. But She didn’t have any false sense of comfort. Spades had no delusion, and so with bloody feet and tired hands, she crawled non-stop, out of the Underdark to the surface world.
Seldom, had the ex-Lolth Devout ever been on the surface. Now she was bathed in awkward, hot sunlight. It blurred her vision and instantly heated her icy, black skin. The blaring, strange sensation nearly sent her exhausted, weary form into shock.
But, staying on the move, Spades’s stumbled through the open air. Faint shapes and thin silhouettes were the only things she could see. With her double vision, Spades started striping her temple jewelry. Throwing off the sterling web earrings, stripping the clattering bangles from her wrist and breaking the Lolth insignia from her neck, she rejected it all.
Pressing forward, ever forging onward.