Kyltara, level 1
Drow, Assassin
Build: Night Stalker Assassin
Guild Training Option: Night Stalker
Student of the Plague Option: Sight of the Unseen
Inherent Bonuses, Spellscarred
Martial – Guild Orphan (+2 to Perception)
Theme: Outlaw

STR 10, CON 11, DEX 20, INT 8, WIS 10, CHA 16

STR 10, CON 11, DEX 18, INT 8, WIS 10, CHA 14

AC: 17 Fort: 11 Ref: 15 Will: 14
HP: 21 Surges: 6 Surge Value: 5

Acrobatics +10, Perception +7, Stealth +12, Streetwise +8, Thievery +10

Arcana –1, Athletics +0, Bluff +3, Diplomacy +3, Dungeoneering +0, Endurance +0, Heal +0, History –1, Insight +0, Intimidate +5, Nature +0, Religion –1

Basic Attack: Melee Basic Attack
Basic Attack: Ranged Basic Attack
Outlaw Attack: Surprise Strike
Drow Racial Power: Cloud of Darkness
Assassin Feature: Assassin’s Shroud
Assassin Utility: Black Flame Form
Assassin Feature: Shadow Step
Assassin Attack 1: Leaping Shade
Assassin Attack 1: Executioner’s Noose
Assassin Attack 1: Nightmare Shades
Assassin Attack 1: Targeted for Death

Level 1: Student of the Plague

Leather Armor x1
Adventurer’s Kit
Ki Focus x1
Greatsword x1
== End ==

Dead Sexy
… Killed my family! (Fintal)


Family History

Once considered among the greatest assassins in the drow community, the Rithrens are becoming extinct. Once monopolizing the assassin business in the underdark by “removing” the competition they long ago forgot that trade. Around three generations before Kyltara Rithren was born the Rithrens moved to the surface after a tragic accident where nearly half the members of elite assassins were killed on the job. The moved to the surface living as most humans do, but trying to stick to small towns in rural areas where they wouldn’t be known. Kyltara’s great great grandfather moved to a small village in the woods of the Free cities. Now Kyltara and her parents are all that are left of the legacy of Rithrens. The rest of the family has had the bloodline tainted by other races or has been killed off when their heritage was discovered, but soon Kyltara would be the only on to carry on the family name.

Something Wicked This Way Comes

They came in the early morning with destruction wrought in their fingertips, merciless spells ablaze with destructive flames and thunderous wrath, summoned servants with mindless claws and fangs pulled by remote magical strings, to turn the village inside out in their search for history, their search for something worth destroying her family and life for. The wreckage was unfathomable, a piece of a statue from the temple of Laureth at the other end of the village found near crotchety Mr. Cransmith’s inn, a portion of a barn from Tirn’s family’s farmstead on the outskirts of the village found near the well at the center of the village, the charred and mangled remains of the Korra sisters who were a few years older than she was on the ground in the front of their home postured like they were running, their blackened and sunken faces wrought in horror and agony, tightly holding hands like they could save each other from the oncoming devastation. Like an uncontrolled, primal and raw force of nature the mages descended upon her village and family to unleash their devastation mercilessly, without care without thought, and with great abandon.

Kyltara was young, just over 4 years old when they came and changed her life, that fateful day when she was playing with her father their favorite game, hide-and-seek. Kyltara remembers the last words her father said to her that day “Kyltara, go hide and do not come out until I find you.”, a playful gleam in his eye and pride in his smile. If only she had known that these were going to be his last words to her, perhaps she would have hugged him tightly, basked in his rugged and weather worn features, or soaked in the kindness of his brown eyes. She would never get that chance. All those to who death comes never get that chance. The Disposed One, cruel and unforgiving, takes when it pleases him, caring not for what is left in the aftermath of the slaking of his compassionless appetite.

Kyltara was always good at hide and seek, so good that no other village children would play with her anymore since they could never, ever find her. Her father taught her well, perhaps too well, but she enjoyed the game and her mastery of it. At times, especially in the days following, she often wondered if her father knew they would come, if perhaps he was preparing her for this day, perhaps the game of hide-and-seek was not really a game to him, but perhaps it was his way of preparing her for the horror that was to come, the horror he saw on the horizon as an ominous storm, an immanent and unstoppable force coming this way. What if he knew? If he did know then what else was he hiding? What… Who… These questions never left her mind. They would never receive an answer from him. These answers would always be an unanswered, hollow, and painful reminder of all that she lost on that day… that day that the mages came and destroyed her world and her family.

She waited helplessly in her hiding place for a day and a half, from a distance watching and listening to the destruction of her village below, her tears cleaning a tan line down her dusty cheeks as she stood in shock, her young and innocent mind scarred from observing the horror wrought, and eyes unable to ever again un-see the devastation of her village and family. At times finding herself covering her ears while cradling and rocking herself with tears streaming down soaking her pants, sobbing and screaming in desperation and soul wrenching grief.

She heard the explosions and the screams of terror from the village whether she wanted too or not, they wormed their way into her mind, boring a violent path through her mind and soul. Kyltara was sure that she heard farmer Jol’s throaty and raspy scream as he was ripped apart by merciless claws of the creatures in service of the Incombran wizards. She could swear she saw several of the older children making a run for the trees to see their forms immolated in spell wrought explosion of flame, a wizard smirking at his quickness preventing their escape. The wizards were thorough and as far as she is aware she is the only survivor of that horrible day, her mind lashed with the indelible images and sounds of the death of her friends and family as sacrifices to some unholy and sacrilegious mission.

She can still remember the rancid smell of the burnt hair and charred flesh of her family in the wreckage of their home. She can still see the smoldering remains of her toys and her sister fresh through the exploded front of her home in her mind like it happened yesterday. Perhaps she could have saved her family if she was there to warn them, to force them to play with her so that they would have been with her in forest safe from harm, and she would have been spared their loss, and the destructive upheaval of all that she has known. These thoughts and images haunt her dreams, wrack her soul with guilt and sorrow, and make her to want, with all of her soul, the power to make these heartless bastards pay for what they have done to her family and the innocent people of her village.

History on the Wings of Destruction

As careful and quiet as a mouse, deliberate, slow and sure of every step and every angle, Kyltara snuck into the village, to see the thing to this day that haunts her the most even after witnessing the carnage of the village first-hand, watching as the Incombran wizards torture her father as they ask him questions, his incomprehensible answers vexing them to no end. His form is lashed to a pole in the center of the village where they lanced and seared him with magic as his unwavered n stating indecipherable answers to them. His tortured screams punctuated by coughing, gurgling, and the occasional spitting of blood brought forth by the magical prods and the claws and fists of their summoned minions, the wizards themselves deigning to get their own hands dirty.

The wizards asked him over and over again where the weapon is, where is the artifact? Her father’s only two answers to their questions were screamed at the top of his lungs “Storm Legion” and “Flame of Laureth” respectively. He screamed these answers over and over again in response to their questions to the point of making his voice hoarse and his throat raw, as if he wanted to whole world to know these words, loud and clear. These words reverberated and echoed through her mind. She does not know how she could ever forget them. These were her father’s last words, even as she saw the life leave his eyes, these words were on his blood soaked lips and on his last apart of his last breath.

Once they finished with her father the wizards and their minions spent even more time ripping apart the village, especially her home searching for what Kyltara can only assume were clues to find this artifact, this weapon that they seek, and they seemed to find nothing of interest or of use, naught but the cryptic words her father left them with. All other people were slain outright as far as she was aware and only her father was singled out for questioning. She wondered greatly about this fact. It was only he that they sought out and tortured for answers. Those two phrases sounded familiar she could not place them, but they wandered through her thoughts like a splinter in her mind, prodding her and taunting her, always sequestered in a deep recess somewhere, and her mind taunted her with this knowledge. She knew she had heard her father speak of them in some way, but she could not remember where, when, or in what context.

Wandering Amidst the Wreckage

There was nothing left of her life, nothing left of her family, nothing left of her village. Everything that she had know in her little life had been shattered, destroyed by the Incombran wizards. Her life had no meaning now, no direction, she was four years old and hungry, thirsty, desperate and worst of all… alone. Her father and sister were dead, her friends and their families were dead, even her doll, Maggie was ripped apart by savage claws. There was nothing left for her to identify with, no one left to help, protect, or guide her. She was alone and she felt it deep into the core of her being. Amidst the unending forest ahead of her and the devastation of her village behind her she felt lost, alone, and desperate, and she saw no end in sight.

She walked, she didn’t know which way, but she walked until she could walk no more and then collapsed upon the ground where she stood as tears trickled down her cheek, her mind numb from the despair that the wreckage of her life has brought. Drinking when she found water and eating berries and mushrooms that looked good she continued to walk forward, not know where she was going or what was going to happen to her. She survived for what seemed a week this way, mindlessly and aimlessly walking forward without direction or reason, just trying to absorb or sort out the recent horrors of her life. A sickness over took her and layed her low in a weak, shaking, and feverish sweat, puking violently bringing forth what was most likely some poisonous berries she ate. Perhaps this will be her end. Perhaps the pain will end here as she lays in a rancid pool of her own vomit. Its acrid scent assaults her as she drifts off into unconsciousness.

How much time had passed she did not know. She awoke not in the forest in a pool of her own smelly vomit, but in what seemed to be a church and surrounded by priests who were attempting to force her to drink some smelly brew. She was too weak to act or to fight back if she wanted to. A lone man in the background who did not fit in the scene of the temple’s surroundings and priests, stood out like a brand upon a person’s forehead. Dressed in dark and muted colors, calm and confident, he watched vigilantly as the priests tended to her. Kyltara faded from consciousness for a moment and more, and then came suddenly back. Something was burning a trail down her throat, a roiling flame of power that had her bolt upright, wide awake, and coughing to try to release the horrid vapors that the roiling trail released. Moments of spasmed coughing passed and she collapsed again, weak, onto the bed she was laying in, sweat dipping down her face, her fever starting to recede. She did not know for sure, but as she drifted off into a quiet sleep, she suspected the darkly clothed man continued his vigil watching over her.

She awoke the next day feeling better than she had in a long time. The darkly clothed man still watching over her, still in the same position he was before, an unmoving and darkly colored statue. After she had opened her eyes and had a moment or two to adjust he smirked and said “The only reason you are alive is because you have a talent, child. The way you move and hide shows tremendous skill that should not be wasted. Rest now and we shall talk more later. Regain your strength and I will have a new family to introduce you too.”

Kyltara like the sound of family, but that word brought the memories back that her time unconscious gave her a welcomed reprieve from. Her face contorted in a spasm of despair as the tears began to course down her cheek, memories of her father’s tortured screams, the smell of burned flesh, the sights of the slaughtering of the villagers, the loss of her family and home, and so much more all crashed violently into her consciousness. She closed her eyes and sobbed herself quietly to sleep wishing that the pain and memories would end, that she would never have to be subjected to them again.

She awoke a day or so later feeling refreshed, strong, and quite hungry. She sat up, eyes opened wide she looked around for a moment to finally take in her surroundings which were neat, austere, but clean. She curiously noted that the man in the dark clothes was not present, seeming to have released himself from his vigil over her. She took a deep and measured breath, yawned, stretched her arms and felt the muscles in her back pull and elongate with every alternating reach for the ceiling with her hands.

The smell of fresh bread and cooked meat wafted in as she sat there for a few moments, eyes closed, just feeling what messages that her body had to send. The scent of food made her stomach growl at which point she really began to feel her hunger, and began to feel self conscious of the fact that she only wore a nightgown of sorts. She smiled as she noticed fresh change of clothes at the foot of her bed. Kyltara’s small frame popped carefully off the bed and pulled forth the clothes from the bed, and put them slowly on, trying to adjust to her awake body. She walked out of her room, down the stairs, and into what seemed to be a kitchen with a small table in it. The darkly clothed man was there sitting at the table and there was various people cooking away, only this mysterious man seemed to notice her descent from her room. The table was laden with foods of all kinds, bread, venison, stew, vegetables and more. She hurriedly crossed the floor and sat at the only other chair at the table, opposite of the darkly clothed man. He motioned to her in a way that simultaneously welcomed her and offered her to eat her fill. She smiled and then devoured everything that caught her attention until she could not eat no more, then she sat there full and content.

She looked thoughtfully at the man who claimed to be her savior, and he looked at her with similarly thoughtful eyes, which she could tell belied something a bit more dangerous, and that his “thoughtful” look was a practiced motion he was using to put her at ease. She did not believe this was done as a deception per se, to hide a desire to harm her, but as a method of putting her at ease. She was not sure what to think of this or what it even meant.

He snapped his fingers and motioned to the cooks and they quietly left the room. He smiled to her, pulled himself closer to her, his face becoming confident and serious, and quietly stated in a way that showed that he only wanted her to hear “I will tell you this once, child. I offer you a way to claim vengeance upon the people who destroyed your family, who destroyed your village, and who tortured your father. I have a family for you that can help you get that, but it will take great sacrifice, dedication, and some pain. My family can care for you, give you the skills you need to get you there. Do you wish this?” Without hesitation Kyltara, with sorrow, anger and rage in her eyes pleaded “Please!”

He nodded in acknowledgement, ruffled the hair on her head a little, sighed, and then said “You are still young, but I will get you ready for the time when you can be trained to take up the blades of righteousness. The time will come. First we must strengthen you mind and your body. Let us go. We have much to do.”


Months and months and months passed by as the darkly clothed man, whose name she has come to know as Fintal, had her perform exercises to strengthen her mind and body, and as well as improve her understanding of how to hide and divert people’s attention. She was still young yet, but need to have a strong mind and body to withstand the rigors of the real training that the brotherhood would put her through. The time had come and it was his moment to bring forth an appropriate new initiate, and Kyltara was the perfect student for him to mentor. She will be a great addition to help fill the brotherhood’s ranks.

The traveled from city to city while she trained and trained with Fintal learning all that she could from him, her young little mind soaking it all in. While he would attend to matters of work she was often left in places so she could watch people to learn to read and understand them and their mannerisms. To watch and notice how they move and respond naturally. She must learn to recognize people when they are acting normally and not under duress. Knowing people’s mannerisms for when they are ease will allow you the best moments to deal with a mark as you would please. Sometimes she was left in safe places, sometimes she was left in some unsavory places forcing her to use her skills to remain hidden and safe.

They spent most of the month preceding her birthday traveling without stopping. During this travel Fintal talked little and left her to her own thoughts and devices. They stopped as little as possible, forging on like soldiers going to reinforce a failing front. They traveled day and night as long as their horses and bodies would carry them. Countless times did she wake up in Fintal’s arms, lightly dozing while riding in the saddle, her horse tethered to his. On the eve of her seventh birthday they traveled to keep that was well hidden in the surrounding area. They quietly stalked in the darkness through a hidden and dark passage, climbed quietly over a barrier of some sort, and skirted some sort of liquid pool, to finally reach their destination.

The door opened to reveal a circular room with 7 people dressed in black with masks fully covering their faces, like ominous executioners waiting for their victims. Fintal quietly escorted her to the center of the circle and then took his place completing the circle that the 7 people. One of them said abruptly "Kyltara, on the eve of your seventh birthday, and in front of your mentor, and your brothers and sisters to be, do you accept the privilege and duty of joining the ranks of the brotherhood? Do you accept that who you are will be no more and who you will become is as we of the brotherhood choose? Do you accept this freely of your own will and without duress from anyone here or elsewhere?

In this moment Kyltara was giddy at the thought that her training was really going to begin, that vengeance was finally going to be within her grasp. She breathlessly and excitedly squealed “Yes!” Everyone in the circle slowly nodded. One of the masked members moved to open the circle and motioned for her to walk through the only other door in the room. She nodded and slowly walked passed the masked members and through the door, which locked behind her, with a large mechanical ‘ker-chunk’, an air of finality echoing from its motion.

The beginning was a tough process even as hard as Fintal worked with her and trained she was still unprepared for how rigorous her training was. The other children that were also there to train were all in significantly better shape for the training, and performed much better than she. Kyltara was not happy with that at all. Following the end of exercises or a practice she would stay there to practice some more. Some days she was so tired and sore that she could barely move. She always slept like a log, unconscious within moments of her head hitting her sparse pillow. She worked and worked as hard as she could to try and maintain her skill to be on par with the others, but something for her was missing, and this was starting to niggle her, there was a barrier to her performance and she did not know what that was which was really frustrating for her.

As her mind was processing those thoughts Fintal seemed to just appear in the practice area. He looked at her thinking way, shook his head at her shoddy form, and then adjusted her. This was the first time that she had seen him in at least several months, while she was broken down and trained with the others. She was not sure how long it has been, but she was really, really happy to see Fintal, the man who had become like a father to her.

From that day forth Fintal spent a lot of time with her working on tightening up her form and helping her to learn the subtle nuances of the techniques and helping to just drilling her and drill her: sword and dagger with live and wodden blades, stalking exercises, death point exercises, as well as meditation and breathing exercises working to access and manipulate the powers of the Shadowfel

This effort did not go unnoticed. Fintal had been raising Kyltara like his own daughter. Once he saw how eager she was to become great she strove to help her in anyway possible. The two would spend hours on end practicing with wooden swords and playing a version of hide and seek which had a bit more on the line, the one who was caught first would be ganged up on by the others found later. Kyltara quickly became favorited by here peers when she was untouchable in the game. One of the other kids, Katarina, tried to cheat and point Kyltara out so she could be seen, but when Katarina followed Kyltara to her hiding place a cloud of smoke appeared around Kyltara and Katarina was stuck in the middle of it. Totally blinding Katarina, Kyltara stabbed the little girl killing her on the spot.

The Guild Leaders were impressed by Kyltara but said they could not deal with a girl who was as uncontrollable as that. Fintal was ordered to kill her since he brought Kyltara in the first place. When he tried to do it Kyltara did not shed a tear or show a bit of fear. She held fast and awaited her fate, but it never came. Filtan took Kyltara away. He knew that he had grown too attached and could never kill her. He took her to the land of Incombr where Filtan had a brother living. Fintal and Kyltara lived with Fintal’s brother Keltin for the remainder of her training. Filtan taught Kyltara everything she needed to know to become the greatest assassin the world has seen.


After living and training with Fintal for the next ten years Kyltar was 17 and ready to prove herself to her master, father figure, and friend. Kyltara was sent out into the lands of Incombr and told to assassinate a mage named Trestal who opposed Keltin who supplied her with more family than she’d had for nearly 15 years. Trestal was not hard to find. He boasted his magical abilities and threw parties regularly. These parties would be when she would strike. Handily “eliminating” one of the guests to attend the party she stole the woman’s invitation and headed to the party. Once inside all she had to do was seduce Trestal and get him alone, which was not difficult with the new looks she acquired with this age. A few heavy drinks and some seduction and Kyltara was following Trestal to his private quarters. Slipping out the knife she always kept strapped under her dress she slit his throat and snuck out the window unnoticed but not without leaving her mark, a mark representing it was Kyltara who did the killing. A large cursive K carved into a wooden box which sprung open when touched to reveal a rhyme about each kill.

With the adrenaline of the kill hot in her body she sprinted the 12 miles back to Keltin’s house. Upon arriving, and carrying Trestal’s ring as proof of the murder she was greeted with great joy. Kyltara was treated like a queen that night. It was the greatest feeling she had in her life. After a few more tests, Fintal told her who the men she had been killing really were. Fintal told her, “Kyltara we haven’t been completely honest with you about who you have been sent after. These mages are not enemies of Keltin but instead they are among the men who destroyed your village.” Kyltara felt rage bubbling inside her. She wanted to return and desecrate the bodies of those she killed to really show what they deserved. Fintal settled her down and finished saying, “There is one left my daughter, but he was antsy after seeing all of his partners assassinated by ‘K.’ He will not be an easy target Kyltara. You will have to control your emotions to finish this final test. His name is Zeltaro. He lives in the heart of Incombr and won’t be so easy to get close to. He will be the hardest target you’ve ever had and he will not be nice to new people. He is an eladrin of high standing here in Incombr even for his young age.”
Kyltara sleeps uneasy that night. She is too excited to finally get her just revenge for sleep. When the first light peaked through her window in her “uncle’s” house Kyltara finished packing and went out the door into the world. She packed light because she knew she would return soon. She had to find a way into the home of Zeltaro. After seducing a few wealthy looking wizards she found out the wizard was throwing a party in two days. So she convinced on of the fine gentleman to take her with to the party. The wizards adorned her in jewelry and a fancy dress for the party and took her as a date. The party was the easiest place in the world for Kyltara to blend in. She quickly lost her friends to find Zeltaro. Seeing him she thought she recognized the laugh she heard from the wizards on the day her family was killed and searched to find it to no avail. Calming herself she stopped a waiter, grabbed two glasses of Champaign and walked right into the middle of Zeltaro’s circle of people. After everyone was done staring Zeltaro dismissed them to talk to Kyltara alone. They talked for a couple hours and Zeltaro did not seem to realize that Kyltara was K. Kyltara convinced Zeltaro that they should retreat to his room.
When they got there Kyltar went to slip the knife from the holster under her dress she found it missing, but that was okay she could kill without a weapon. Then she was bound by magical bindings and she knew that Zeltaro figured her out. Yet, Zeltaro made no move to kill her or invoke any harm, instead he spoke to her in a soft voice, not unlike the voice you would use with a child who was unaware of their wrongdoing. He said, “Kyltara you are being deceived. Fintal sent you here to kill me but I was not at the destruction of your village. Fintal was the one who tipped off the guild in the first place, he knew of your family and how they had a powerful artifact. It is he you should kill not me.” Kyltara was dumbfounded, this man she did not know was trying to tell her that her mentor and friend was backstabbing her, yet his story seemed to ring true. She decided to let him explain further. “I’m listening,” she said, trying to control the venom in her voice. So Zeltaro explained the story of how Trestal tipped off and hired the mages guild that he used to be a part of to get this magical artifact for his assassin’s guild and how he was probably using her now to get to the artifact through her. Kyltar was enraged that the one person she thought she could trust had been backstabbing her the whole time. Zeltaro promised to let her go and help her seek vengeance on Trestal as long as she promised the assassin’s guild never got the artifact.

Revenge gone awry

Zeltaro returned with Kyltara to Keltan’s house ready to help kill Trestal and Keltan and get rid of them. When the entered the house you’d think no one had lived there. The two must have known that the party would be Kyltara’s choice time to kill Zeltaro and having not seen Kyltara return or hear of his death thought the worst. Kyltara returned to her room to see it untouched. She knew she couldn’t stay here but didn’t want to trust anyone for a while so she went to pack her stuff. Zeltaro offered to help pack and when they opened Kyltara’s chest a note was there and suddenly the spellplague was released into the room infecting them both. The note read, “So now you know the truth. I knew I couldn’t keep the gag running forever, you’re a smart girl. It’s a pity you’ll have to die. –Trestal” Luckily Zeltaro knew how to keep the plague under control so they wouldn’t die. Kyltara decided to return to Zeltaro’s mansion because she was all she could rely on with the spallplague slowing her down. While she wasn’t sure if she could trust Zeltaro yet she knew she had to trust something. Zeltaro helped Kyltara train her spellscar, hone it into a power worthy of a real assassin. She vowed to kill Trestal and Keltan and finally bring her family to justice. After spending a couple years with Zeltaro they became something more than friends but Zeltaro knew Kyltara could never be held here in Incombr forever, that she would have to find adventure and so they parted ways Kyltara promising to return to her new found love.


Lands of Rissyn Soulclist