Half-elf (half Drow/half Human)
Sabdrin is a typical half-drow, built shorter and stockier than her Drow father. Her features though remain sharp and angled, her face taking on a hawkish appearance. She has short black hair, kept trimmed by her dagger, that never falls longer than the nape of her neck. Her skin is pale with a grayish tint to it, though she is much lighter skinned than her father. Her eyes are set above high and pronounced cheekbones, the irises a pale lilac color. There is a certain feral grace to her body, a fact only accentuated by her wearing of tanned leathers and pelts.
Sabdrin was born to a Drow father and human mother. She knows little of the circumstances of her conception and first few years of life. What she does know is that she never met the human who had birthed her and that her father was displeased to have a half-breed child. Why her father kept her and raised her for a time is a question she believes she will never find an answer to. As it was, from her earliest memories, her father was often distant or disparaging towards her.
Her and her father, Hurzal, traveled from the moment she walked, which was just a few short month's after her birth. By the time she was two years old, they no longer traveled in the safety of numbers and Hurzal had begun to teach her how to survive off the land. The time spent between the two of them was far from idyllic or bonding. Her father routinely reminded her of her human heritage and the weakness it had instilled in her. He spoke of the greatness of the Drow but never of why he himself had left the Drow lands. Sabdrin was left a confused child, the seeds of both self-loathing and supreme arrogance planted to later sprout.
Nearing her seventh birthday, father and daughter found themselves in the Nightwood. It had been a particularly dry summer and wildlife had proven to be scarce even in a forest. The wolves had been bothersome, though Hurzal and Sabdrin had managed to fend off a small pack twice upon entering the forest. The three wolves proved dogged in their tracking though, driven by hunger and desperation. The third attack came at a surprise to the duo. Hurzal managed to easily slay one of the slavering beasts while Sabdrin fought off a second. The third and smallest of the pack joined in the attack at young Sabdrin. In a surprising moment of paternal instincts, Hurzal placed himself in harm's way and dove to protect his daughter and bore the brunt of the attack. The remaining two wolves were slain, but at a mortal cost to Hurzal. A major vein had been severed, though Sabdrin managed to staunch the blood flow long enough for them to stumble upon Brand's house.
They were welcomed in warmly, though neither trusted the situation. The young half-blood was amazed to see so many children of different races staring back at her as the kindly man guided her father to a hay-filled bed. She was ushered away for Brand to set to work, the other children charged with making sure she was fed, cleaned, and her own minor wounds tended to. It was an awkward and uncomfortable situation she found herself in.
When Brand emerged hours later, he softly explained it unlikely for her father to wake again. His wounds were more extensive than the severed vein and though the man had some skill with healing, it would not be enough to fix all that ailed Hurzal. She didn't shed a tear though she did allow herself to be guided to her dying father's bedside. Sabdrin expected to be expelled from the house as soon as her father passed and decided to leave before that could happen, albeit with a full pouch of food and some coins. One of the older children caught her in the act and brought her to the man they all called father. He offered her his house, his protection, his training. Sabdrin accepted it with great suspicion as to the man's actual motives, but a warm bed for a few nights was better than having to set off on her own.
Hurzal did not wake, just as Brand predicted, and Sabdrin did not leave the house for many years, though she often longed to during fits of despair. Her Drow blood made her an outsider and one viewed with suspicion by many of the other children. Her own biases made it difficult for her to get along with her new siblings. Her training however, came naturally. She had in many ways been training all of her short life to be a ranger. Brand's tutelage allowed her skill to grow and manifest in new ways. Yet it wasn't until another outcast orphan arrived that Sabdrin ever truly felt as if Brand's house was a home.
Three years passed with few happy memories formed. Ilta, a tiefling girl who seemed to be just a bit younger than Sabdrin, appeared as so many did at Brand's doorstep. While Sabdrin often fought with the other children, her instant despise towards the tiefling caused vicious fights between the two. Both girls shared equal hatred and could be found screaming at each other and often descended into physical violence. However, it soon became apparent to both that neither girl was well accepted by the others. Though they fought like cats and dogs, the other orphans avoided both equally. This discovery dawned, and in a year's time, Sabdrin had her first friend amongst her adopted brothers and sisters. The unlikely friendship allowed a bond Sabdrin had not ever felt or formed previously. They shared their outsider status, beyond that of being orphaned, both had blood viewed with distaste. Brand had often forced Sabdrin to socialize, and for the first time she willingly sought out another's company. The change from hated enemy to beloved friend was a process Sabdrin didn't remember embarking on, but their fights quickly seemed a distant memory.
In Ilta, the half-drow found a true younger sister. She was protective of the girl though she usually had no need to be. She shared her lessons and own bits of knowledge. The bond they formed lasted years and though her personality was not tamed by it, she saw what it was to have someone close to mind and heart. As seeds of self-loathing had been planted and grown, as the seeds of racial superiority had sprouted, so to did a new seed of hope-of friendship and love. The three conflicted and waged a constant war in the adolescent's formative mind. The scale could be tipped to any side, and only time would tell which would become dominant.
Eight more years passed and Sabdrin approached adulthood. She had in some ways become a gentler and more trusting version of her younger self, though it was a true assessment only in comparison to herself. She was still largely regarded as unsocial and she viewed only Ilta as a true friend. Towards Brand, she felt some kinship but more so, respect. His lessons always revealed more, though Sabdrin felt he held back too much, made her progress too slowly. The years of relative peace seemed to come to an end quickly.
Sabdrin awoke one morning to find that her sister was gone. She waited three days before approaching her father about the matter. Brand sadly explained when confronted that from time to time his children departed him sooner than he wanted, but knew nothing of why she had left. For Sabdrin, it meant that her hope and trust had been misplaced. Her first lessons in life were the right ones, not what had slowly grown to replace them. A rift was formed that was never truly mended. Sabdrin became withdrawn once again, refusing to associate with the other children that had trickled in over the years.
Now one of the eldest ones present, she refused the duties Brand gave her. Several months passed before an explosive argument left her leaving what had been her home for well over a decade. Though she tried to stop herself, she spent almost two years looking for her sister and friend. Traces of the tiefling were far and few between, but each glimpse of hope of finding the girl spurred her on. She never did succeed and was only left more bitter over the affair and her own failure of being what she was meant to be. During this time, Sabdrin lived much the same as she had as a young girl with her father. The lessons learned from Brand aided her greatly in staying unseen by animal and man.
A new driving force took over, one of revenge. Before she had left in a fit of anger, Brand had given her one last thing; a letter her father had written her as he lay dying. Though the initial fight had been about her lack of performing duties and evolved into a fight over Ilta, the final spark had been that he had hidden the letter from her for so many years. She had read the letter countless times. In seeing death, it seemed, Hurzal had wanted his daughter to know the truth of his life. He had been cast of the underdark for funding a failed assassination attempt against another Drow. He had been lucky that Lloth spoke of benevolence to her priests and he was exiled rather than executed. His cause had been left unfinished, and Sabdrin took it upon herself as a Drow to do so for him, to succeed where he failed. To prove herself worthy of her Drow blood.
Her travels to seek revenge, however, brought her back to the Nightwood. Buried emotions that still warred for supremacy won out, and she found herself approaching familiar paths that would take her back to her childhood.
Conflicted. Sabdrin has hated the weakness of her human blood and gloried in the racial supremacy of her Drow blood. She has learned to cast aside inherent distrust and paranoia in favor of love and friendship only to see that quickly dashed. She views herself as better than any except the pureblood Drow, yet despises them as well for what they did to her father. She has never come to grips with her young childhood spent with a man she hardly knows and struggles to remember. Towards Brand too, her emotions are mixed. She respected him and his knowledge greatly and acknowledges she would not be half the woman she is today without his guidance. She blames him as well though, for the vulnerability she feels nearly destroyed her following Ilta's departure. She feels some guilt for never having made amends, and anger than she would feel guilt over something she feels she should consider trivial.
To the man that murdered her adoptive father though, she can feel only want of vengeance. Though her feelings towards Brand remain unresolved, the situation of his death merits only one answer-revenge at any cost. Any who stand between her and the meting of justice as she sees, are the enemy as well.
: The stronger she grew in her Ranger skills and the more quieted her Drow consciousness became, the more she opened herself to the other half that made her. Her mother's human blood gave her the adaptability to become a shape-shifter, her encompassing knowledge of wildlife formed the ability. Only one form is known to her at the moment, due in part to the loss of her human perspective her progress has halted momentarily. For the time being, she can shift the form of a jackdaw
: Lessons started at a very young age under her father and blossomed under Brand's tutelage. Sabdrin knows how to hunt, how to remain unseen if she wishes it, how to perform upkeep on her weapons, and most importantly, how to improvise in many varying situations. She knows which vegetation is edible, poisonous, and has a rudimentary understanding of mixing poultices.
: Though she can use a bow, Sabdrin prefers killing up close and personal when she can. Much like her companion animal, she has two daggers she considers to be her own claws and uses them just as effectively either in hunting or in combat.
Sabdrin sees well in the dark, even in times of new moons or overcast skies.
: Her drow blood grants a slight resistance to Divine spells.
: Sabdrin has gained the ability to smell the world around her much as an animal would. She can detect approaching enemies, sniff out hidden foes, and track by sense of smell. She can also identify familiar odors the way humans do familiar sights.
: Though she tries to hide it, she has a great affinity for sweet things. They were a luxury never had when traveling with her father and a love developed from her time living with Brand in the Nightwood.
: Sabdrin has an ability beyond simply and crudely mending cloth. When she finds herself with idle hands she's been known to embroider delicate designs.
Fur and Leather
: Sabdrin has made much of what she currently wears, having tanned the leather herself and prepared the furs for long wear. Her ability with a needle and thread means she has also personally pieced together the various layers into a warm and flexible protection. Many of the pelts have been taken from wolves, her distaste for the creatures stemming from her childhood. Fur lined-leather boots for her feet, thin and slightly loose leather leggings, and a fur tunic for her upper body provide some protection against weapons, but is largely meant to allow her to blend in to the forests she sticks to. She also has made a large fur cloak either for wear in winter, but also as her only blanket for when she beds down.
: Two steel daggers that serve as her primary weapons. The weapons
are curved like a claw. They are obviously well maintained, sharp as the day she received them and free of rust or dirt.
: One of the only possessions of her father than Sabdrin kept, she wears the worked metal spider necklace always, as a reminder of her true heritage. It hangs on a leather cord that she's replaced several times. The spider itself was finely crafted and remains untarnished, it is roughly the size of her thumb.
: A brown leather pack that contains: small rations of dried rabbit/squirrel meat, three bone needles of various sizes, coarse thread and one spool of finer thread, one well read letter, a whetstone, a flint, a simple harness that can be used to transfer the pack itself to Widge
: freshly filled and nearly full
Widge - a lynx
Sabdrin has had as a companion for four years
Relationships and Acquaintances:
Ilta - largely covered in bio