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Created page with "{{myChar | name = <center>Nyk Quill</center> | image = File:Gnome4a.png | alias = <div>• Lyria (slave name)</div> | class = Bard, College of Swords |alignment = True Neutral | occupation = <div>• Courtesan</div> <div>• Escorting</div> | species = Svirfneblin (Deep gnome) | age = <div>115</div> | gender = Woman | sexuality = Bisexual | hair = White (dyed burgundy)..."
 
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'''Nyk Quill''' is a deep gnome from Clan Cloakshadow, a small faction of svirfneblin who were devout followers of Baravar Cloakshadow. She spent the majority of her life as a slave to drow, as when she was barely a decade old, her clan was massacred and the few survivors were enslaved by House '''[REDACTED]''' after a clandestine trade deal between gnomes and drow soured.
'''Nyk Quill''' is a deep gnome from ''Clan Cloakshadow'', a small faction of svirfneblin who were devout followers of Baravar Cloakshadow. She spent the majority of her life as a slave to drow, as when she was barely a decade old, her clan was massacred and the few survivors were enslaved by House '''[REDACTED]''' after a clandestine trade deal between gnomes and drow soured.
 
Nyk was spared hard labor by virtue of having a birthmark on her thigh that bears striking resemblance to the insignia of House '''[REDACTED]''', thus obtaining her a more pampered life, and renamed '''Lyria''' by her captors. For over a century, she was the favorite court entertainer of her drow matron, and was eventually elevated to the role of courtesan; her matron had quite a few courtesans and consorts, yet Nyk was the only individual among them that was not a drow herself.
 
After a violent coup d'état within House '''[REDACTED]''' resulted in her matron's assassination and subsequent replacement, Nyk fled in the chaos to avoid becoming another casualty in the revolt. Escaping to the surface world, she seeks a way to maintain the semi-luxurious life she had, and perhaps echo her past by becoming rich and influential enough to be a matron-like figure of her own in the surface world.


== Appearance ==
== Appearance ==
Sawyer has dull grey skin of a pallid appearance, making him constantly look either deathly sick or already deceased. Any hands on him would feel him chill to the touch and absent of the warmth of life, giving the impression he might be a living corpse, or a being stranded on the border of life and death.  
Nyk is a middle-age deep gnome standing around 3’3”, and weighing 40lbs.  
 
While her hair is naturally white-grey, she dyed it burgundy throughout most of her life, as it was her drow matron’s favorite color. Only within the last year did she stop dying it, and now her pale outgrow roots are starkly visible. Often, her hair is in messy updos.


But in reality, shadar-kai are cursed with such a ghastly appearance, and Sawyer tries to make up for it with a constant bright expression and colorful clothes.
[[File:Gnome3a.png|thumb|left|Close-up of Nyk's hair and makeup]]


Golden rings and heart piercings decorate his pointed ears, and he has a labret ring on his lower lip that his tongue fidgets with when he’s nervous.
In addition to her dyed hair, most of her attire tends to be in shades of burgundy and mature dark reds and magentas, and she compliments the color scheme with makeup in brighter red hues, often with sparkling or shimmery eyeshadow, and pink heart freckles drawn on across her cheeks.


His body is androgynous and adorned with black swirling tattoos all across his torso and arms, twisting onto his neck and face in a stark juxtaposition, like black ink droplets into milk. With both black scarla and pupils, his gaze can be eerie and abysmally unsettling to strangers unfamiliar with him, and his white outgrown hair he ties back into bun can give the vague resemblance of a drow to the untrained eye.
Due to her life spent mainly in an affluent drow house around her matron, Nyk has a taste for finery clothing and jewelry, even though her access to such luxuries have been severely stunted since arriving at the surface world. Still, she is meticulous about maintaining the few fine clothes she has and wears, and never tries to downgrade into anything less unless absolutely necessary. No matter her outfit, she will almost always have a garter dagger sheath on her upper thigh. Her skirts are usually hitched up in a burlesque fashion, not only for the elegant appearance, but also for accessibility to her dagger sheath.  


Whilst it’s difficult to tell at a glance that his body is biologically female, he makes no effort to bind his small chest, which the more perceptive might notice. Otherwise, he is overall difficult to discern the biology of either which way, and capitalizes off his androgyny in order to circumvent effort into passing as a man.
On her upper right thigh, she has a birthmark that looks almost exactly like House '''[REDACTED]'''’s house insignia, and it can easily be mistaken for a brand or tattoo unless one inspects it up close.


== History ==
== History ==
Like many of his kin, there was little joy in his life for centuries, other than the meager pride to serve the Raven Queen well or the mockery of culture his people clung to. In his city he was an apothecary, and took advantage of the traveling the Raven Queen demanded of him by using his trips as opportunities to collect herbs and roots. Despite trying to bring back samples to the Shadowfell, he rarely got medicinal plants and herbs to successfully flourish in the harsh and unforgiving conditions of the Shadowfell.  
Born into the Cloakshadow clan, her people were always looking into whatever means could propel their faction forward or otherwise benefit them, to the point where they would dare to not only strike clandestine trade deals with drow houses, but they would even be willing to go behind the houses backs to trade and make deal with rivals.
 
Prosperous with precious gems and metals, the Cloakshadows could trade for fine weapons and enchanted items with the right drow houses, all whilst promising the houses that their trade agreements were exclusive and no other houses had their business. Sometimes, they would even trade the items they got from the drow to other drow houses, as rivals often didn’t trade their valuable assets with one another.
 
House '''[REDACTED]''', who specializes in dangerous enchanted weaponry that gave them a significant power up on most other noble houses, was one of the Cloakshadow’s trade partners.
 
And when House '''[REDACTED]'''’s matron mother and her firstborn infant daughter were sprung upon by a rival assassin wielding a sword that was distinctly their own house’s craftsmanship, the matron was irate.
 
The assassianation attempt managed to claim the life of her daughter, who was a prize to her mother after bearing four male children already— after the first male, the other three were slaughtered as infants so she could focus on the daughter she desperately wanted, and any consort or concubine that gave her a son was punished and demoted from their rank.


Deeply interested in herbalism and medicinal apothecary, Sawyer was experimental with the potions, elixirs, and medicines he made, and often tested the effects on himself to determine the effectiveness of his recipes. Despite shadar-kai bodies being able to live to the normal elven lifespan of seven-hundred fifty years, he prematurely killed three of his prior corporeal vessels by accident via self poisoning from his various amateur experimentations. As with all shadar-kai, his soul was returned to the Raven Queen and born into a new vessel. His fourth (and current) vessel is forty-three years old, and biologically female.  
The loss of the matron’s daughter incited a vengeful rage that consumed all who even had a sliver of involvement in the assassination. The next few years were the bloodiest the house had even known, and they decimated the offending house.


Although shadar-kai tend to care little for their bodily vessels, Sawyer was irritated with his ‘accidental’ wrong sex, and suspected it was a slight by the Raven Queen for his carelessness with his prior bodily vessels, in addition to his lengthy and slow completion of the missions she gave him, as he would go on frequent detours to harvest regional herbs. This caused Sawyer to grow more distant from the Raven Queen as a result. He began to think the Raven Queen did not care about shader-kai, and his faith only evermore wavered.
When it came time to deal with the gnomes, it was a surprise attack with the intent to massacre the whole clan. Only a handful of skilled artisans were spared to be enslaved, however a young gnome girl stood out to the matron mother, whose deep blue eyes reminded her of her lost daughter.  


Collecting books and conversing with anyone with botany knowledge, whispers and rumors of herbal remedies for the mind reached Sawyer’s ears. Fantastic stories of teas and tinctures that soothed the coldness around the heart, and softened the sharper edges of reality.
Yet, it was not enough to sway the girl’s fate— at least, not by itself. Instead, it was the large birthmark on her thigh that stilled the matron’s hand. The eyes had made her waver, but the birthmark itself felt like a cosmic sign to spare the gnome.  


Tales of Jergal’s wort drew him in, a tantalizing promise of happiness and enthusiasm for life. The wort was abundant and common, so the next time Sawyer passed a field’s worth he stuffed his bag to the brim with the flowers and leaves, returning to the Shadowfell leaving a trail of loose leaves and petals behind him from the sheer volume of his haul.
Rather than make Nyk a lowly labor slave like the few other surviving Cloakshadow gnomes, matron Distrovia renamed the gnome girl Lyria, and kept her as a personal servant slave.


In secret, he dried the leaves, he diffused the petals in oils, he grounded the roots into fine powders. Any which way the plant could be rendered, he did. Topical oils and tinctures from the golden petals yielded nothing, and the powders he tried to bake into breads or pack into tablets did nothing more than taint his palate with the bitter earthy punch of dirt.  
As Nyk aged, she soon learned that how well she did or didn’t do her services mattered not when matron Distrovia’s mood was soured. What started as jokes or silly stories Nyk would tell her matron in order to lighten the mood soon became the services that were desired far more than anything else.


However, the dried leaves soaked in hot honey water welcomed him into a world where suddenly the outside world offered a contentment that contrasted the stygian world of the Shadowfell. The passion he had for apothecary flourished in a newfound drive and pride, and Sawyer began to detest mission after dreary mission for the Raven Queen.  
By the time Nyk had reached adulthood, not a single member of House '''[REDACTED]''' saw her as just another servant slave anymore; she was matron Distrovia’s personal jester, always ready to dazzle her mistress with fancy card tricks or captivate the room with a whimsical story. So favored she was that Distrovia eventually promoted her as a courtesan, and often amused herself by requesting Nyk to write her poems in ode to herself, or would sweep her away to her bedchambers whenever she desired.


Each night when he met the bottom of a warm cup of Jegal’s wort tea, he not only felt the heat in his stomach, but the warmth spread in his chest and linger deep within his heart and soul. The corpse-like body he inhibited, cool to the touch with a deathly pallor that chilled even the warmest of rooms, now moved and awoke with an energy that felt downright alive.
And in exchange for this newfound role, Nyk discovered she could live a life far more lavish and pampered than anything the average gnome slave would endure. The clothing she wore were all fine textiles in her matron’s favorite color, and slaves were even expected to cater to her as if she were a drow herself.


It was on a mission to collect the soul of a circus jester that Sawyer felt a pang of sorrow that cracked something deep and sacred with him. A human jester, adorned in bright colors and aged smile lines across his face, stricken with a heart attack and robbing countless people of the joy of his jokes and performance.
With such high favor, Nyk made sure her standing was never in danger— any spare time she had to herself, she practiced to be a better companion to her matron. Nyk practiced Distrovia’s favorite card games, she learned sleight-of-hand magic tricks, she wrote endless prose and poems, and she even learned to juggle knives.  


A man whose career was smiles and laughter, brightening the lives of those around him. It was a purpose far more noble than any other drive in life Sawyer could fathom. In a moment of weakness, with shaky hands he nervously stripped the jester of the honor of his attire, before slowly dressing himself with a heavy, guilty heart. It felt like robbing the man of his skin and identity, but when Sawyer looked into the mirror and saw himself, he saw someone new. Not Dredge, the servant of the Raven Queen cursed with a joyless duty to harvest sorrow at her command. Instead, he saw a new man, a man who could use his power and knowledge to bring happiness to the ones around him.
Over a century of performing and playing the role as Distrovia’s most faithful courtesan, Nyk herself felt more like a drow than a gnome; she felt herself something great, something worthy of recognition beyond that of just another slave.


In honor of the jester, Sawyer adopted his name, and his passion for contagious joy, learning silly jokes and humor to try and make others smile. He never returned to the Raven Queen that day, he refused to allow what little happiness that flourished within him to decay and fester under her cruel command.  
Yet, a slave is still a slave. Nyk felt the world built up around her crumble in an instant; one moment, in her matron’s bed with her after servicing her, and the next moment there’s blood all over the sheets.  


Jergal’s wort tea was just the beginning, and while Sawyer never missed his daily dose, he wanted a permanent cure for the harrowing cracks on his psyche that his servitude to the Raven Queen left behind. Rumors of a rare fungi deep in the Underdark speckled the chapters and pages of medicinal botany in his textbooks: Cheshire Crestcap, a bioluminescent violet mushroom that had the almighty power to change the emotional chemistry of the one who consumes it.
Distrovia’s blood, pouring out from an open gash in her bare midsection that wasn’t there before, and now soaking the sheets around her in a macabre halo.


After decades of being departed from the Raven Queen’s service living and studying in solitude for a solution, Sawyer felt he finally found it. If he got his hands on Cheshire Crestcap, he fully believed he could render it into an elixir that could mend his soul once and for all. And he didn’t want to stop there; others who had such dismal gashes in their soul could be given the opportunity to heal if he could create a stable rendition of the fungi.
Nyk scrambled away from the bed, away from her matron as she rapidly bled out, before looking up at the offending drow who had ambushed: a niece of Distrovia, a disgruntled one at that, assassinating her matron in order to usurp her place.


With not much more than his decades of notes and his stashes of dried Jergal’s wort, Sawyer made his way to the Underdark, ready to fight, adventure, deceive, or do whatever it took to get information or locations to Cheshire Crestcap. He was determined to change his life, and the lives of all those who suffered like he has, bringing light and joy into the hearts of the beaten and broken.
Over the next few days, the house was in shambles; any loyalists to Distrovia were executed, and many new faces were promoted and old faces demoted in the house order. Nyk, pledging and promising no loyalty to her former matron in order to be spared her life, was set to become what she was always meant to be: a common gnome slave, slated for hard labor.
 
It was a life she didn’t understand, a life she ''refused'' to understand.
 
So within those first few raw days of the house and its structure in an every-morphing order, Nyk took it as her only opportunity to escape a life she felt too good to ever have to endure. Leaving the house itself was a feat, but after quickly evaluating the Underdark as a whole to be equally as harsh on her prospects, Nyk ascended to the light for the first time.
 
The luxuries she has had all her life were now her own responsibility to provide, and her finances to do so were nonexistent. The only resources she had were the same ones she’s been using all her life; her charm, her looks, and her entertaining skills. And the best place for those three things to flourish was Baldur’s Gate.
 
Nyk became a regular at taverns and the local brothel, primarily as an escort and entertainer. For a high enough price she was willing to sell a night to a high roller, but those situations were few and far between, as Nyk despised echoing shadows of her former glory as courtesan to a powerful drow house matron.
 
The money’s not enough, and the work was far more insecure than what she was used to.
 
Nyk is determined to make better money, and elevated herself to the lifestyle she knew almost all her life. And then, once she has all the money and power, ''she’ll'' have servants of her own.


== Personality ==
== Personality ==
Sawyer, thanks to the balance of Jergal’s Wort, has an upbeat attitude and general optimism. He is overly confident in himself and his abilities, particularly when it comes to his skills and apothecary knowledge, although he is aggressively average overall and a lot of his confidence is misplaced and ambiguous. But he makes up for his poor judgment of his own skills by sheer perseverance, and is more likely to achieve his goals by stubborn persistence rather than talent or expertise.
Due to her upbringing, Nyk behaves much like a drow does, and lost a lot of her own culture and gnome identity. However, she has always maintained a softer and friendly edge that allows her to charm or entertain others.


Having an affinity for jesters, clowns, and comedians, Sawyer enjoys learning and telling jokes. Most of his jokes are very bad, as he thinks jokes like knock-knocks are downright hilarious. He likes to entertain and make people smile to the best of his ability, and while his dream career would be in comedy and performance, he feels shepherded to a greater purpose with psychiatric apothecary.
While she has no quarrels escorting and entertaining, the act of prostitution itself is one she detests, mainly due to the utter downgrade of her life it reminds her of. However, she will work with what assets she has, but only when absolutely needed.
 
Without Jergal’s wort, he regresses into a husk of himself, a mere echo of his passions and enthusiasm. In this unmediated state he is unmotivated, quiet, and detached.  


To those she is not being paid from nor incentivized to be charming, Nyk will come off as uppity, and carries herself as if she’s better than common folk. Nevertheless, she is used to be disrespected or undervalued, so she is accustomed to brushing off when it occurs.


== Trivia ==
== Trivia ==
* If he misses his daily dose of his rudimentary anti-depressant, he will begin to experience withdrawal symptoms the next day, which will give him disadvantage on saving throws.
* Nyk knows several magic card tricks, and can do a few simple coin magic tricks such as turning a copper into a silver.
* Sawyer is currently in his fourth reincarnated body, and although is unhappy his current vessel is biologically female, he is determined to keep it because he knows death will return his soul to the Raven Queen.
* There are only a few living Cloakshadow clan gnomes still living, and she is the only one not enslaved in the Underdark.
* His skills as a phantom rogue came from his training and service to the Raven Queen.
* He stole his jester outfit because he was enamored by the colors and flashy style, and his fashion style is considered very bright and an eyesore by most.
 
[[Category: DnD Characters ]]
[[Category: DnD Characters ]]

Latest revision as of 10:15, 11 January 2025

Nyk Quill is a deep gnome from Clan Cloakshadow, a small faction of svirfneblin who were devout followers of Baravar Cloakshadow. She spent the majority of her life as a slave to drow, as when she was barely a decade old, her clan was massacred and the few survivors were enslaved by House [REDACTED] after a clandestine trade deal between gnomes and drow soured.

Nyk was spared hard labor by virtue of having a birthmark on her thigh that bears striking resemblance to the insignia of House [REDACTED], thus obtaining her a more pampered life, and renamed Lyria by her captors. For over a century, she was the favorite court entertainer of her drow matron, and was eventually elevated to the role of courtesan; her matron had quite a few courtesans and consorts, yet Nyk was the only individual among them that was not a drow herself.

After a violent coup d'état within House [REDACTED] resulted in her matron's assassination and subsequent replacement, Nyk fled in the chaos to avoid becoming another casualty in the revolt. Escaping to the surface world, she seeks a way to maintain the semi-luxurious life she had, and perhaps echo her past by becoming rich and influential enough to be a matron-like figure of her own in the surface world.

Appearance

Nyk is a middle-age deep gnome standing around 3’3”, and weighing 40lbs.

While her hair is naturally white-grey, she dyed it burgundy throughout most of her life, as it was her drow matron’s favorite color. Only within the last year did she stop dying it, and now her pale outgrow roots are starkly visible. Often, her hair is in messy updos.

Close-up of Nyk's hair and makeup

In addition to her dyed hair, most of her attire tends to be in shades of burgundy and mature dark reds and magentas, and she compliments the color scheme with makeup in brighter red hues, often with sparkling or shimmery eyeshadow, and pink heart freckles drawn on across her cheeks.

Due to her life spent mainly in an affluent drow house around her matron, Nyk has a taste for finery clothing and jewelry, even though her access to such luxuries have been severely stunted since arriving at the surface world. Still, she is meticulous about maintaining the few fine clothes she has and wears, and never tries to downgrade into anything less unless absolutely necessary. No matter her outfit, she will almost always have a garter dagger sheath on her upper thigh. Her skirts are usually hitched up in a burlesque fashion, not only for the elegant appearance, but also for accessibility to her dagger sheath.

On her upper right thigh, she has a birthmark that looks almost exactly like House [REDACTED]’s house insignia, and it can easily be mistaken for a brand or tattoo unless one inspects it up close.

History

Born into the Cloakshadow clan, her people were always looking into whatever means could propel their faction forward or otherwise benefit them, to the point where they would dare to not only strike clandestine trade deals with drow houses, but they would even be willing to go behind the houses backs to trade and make deal with rivals.

Prosperous with precious gems and metals, the Cloakshadows could trade for fine weapons and enchanted items with the right drow houses, all whilst promising the houses that their trade agreements were exclusive and no other houses had their business. Sometimes, they would even trade the items they got from the drow to other drow houses, as rivals often didn’t trade their valuable assets with one another.

House [REDACTED], who specializes in dangerous enchanted weaponry that gave them a significant power up on most other noble houses, was one of the Cloakshadow’s trade partners.

And when House [REDACTED]’s matron mother and her firstborn infant daughter were sprung upon by a rival assassin wielding a sword that was distinctly their own house’s craftsmanship, the matron was irate.

The assassianation attempt managed to claim the life of her daughter, who was a prize to her mother after bearing four male children already— after the first male, the other three were slaughtered as infants so she could focus on the daughter she desperately wanted, and any consort or concubine that gave her a son was punished and demoted from their rank.

The loss of the matron’s daughter incited a vengeful rage that consumed all who even had a sliver of involvement in the assassination. The next few years were the bloodiest the house had even known, and they decimated the offending house.

When it came time to deal with the gnomes, it was a surprise attack with the intent to massacre the whole clan. Only a handful of skilled artisans were spared to be enslaved, however a young gnome girl stood out to the matron mother, whose deep blue eyes reminded her of her lost daughter.

Yet, it was not enough to sway the girl’s fate— at least, not by itself. Instead, it was the large birthmark on her thigh that stilled the matron’s hand. The eyes had made her waver, but the birthmark itself felt like a cosmic sign to spare the gnome.

Rather than make Nyk a lowly labor slave like the few other surviving Cloakshadow gnomes, matron Distrovia renamed the gnome girl Lyria, and kept her as a personal servant slave.

As Nyk aged, she soon learned that how well she did or didn’t do her services mattered not when matron Distrovia’s mood was soured. What started as jokes or silly stories Nyk would tell her matron in order to lighten the mood soon became the services that were desired far more than anything else.

By the time Nyk had reached adulthood, not a single member of House [REDACTED] saw her as just another servant slave anymore; she was matron Distrovia’s personal jester, always ready to dazzle her mistress with fancy card tricks or captivate the room with a whimsical story. So favored she was that Distrovia eventually promoted her as a courtesan, and often amused herself by requesting Nyk to write her poems in ode to herself, or would sweep her away to her bedchambers whenever she desired.

And in exchange for this newfound role, Nyk discovered she could live a life far more lavish and pampered than anything the average gnome slave would endure. The clothing she wore were all fine textiles in her matron’s favorite color, and slaves were even expected to cater to her as if she were a drow herself.

With such high favor, Nyk made sure her standing was never in danger— any spare time she had to herself, she practiced to be a better companion to her matron. Nyk practiced Distrovia’s favorite card games, she learned sleight-of-hand magic tricks, she wrote endless prose and poems, and she even learned to juggle knives.

Over a century of performing and playing the role as Distrovia’s most faithful courtesan, Nyk herself felt more like a drow than a gnome; she felt herself something great, something worthy of recognition beyond that of just another slave.

Yet, a slave is still a slave. Nyk felt the world built up around her crumble in an instant; one moment, in her matron’s bed with her after servicing her, and the next moment there’s blood all over the sheets.

Distrovia’s blood, pouring out from an open gash in her bare midsection that wasn’t there before, and now soaking the sheets around her in a macabre halo.

Nyk scrambled away from the bed, away from her matron as she rapidly bled out, before looking up at the offending drow who had ambushed: a niece of Distrovia, a disgruntled one at that, assassinating her matron in order to usurp her place.

Over the next few days, the house was in shambles; any loyalists to Distrovia were executed, and many new faces were promoted and old faces demoted in the house order. Nyk, pledging and promising no loyalty to her former matron in order to be spared her life, was set to become what she was always meant to be: a common gnome slave, slated for hard labor.

It was a life she didn’t understand, a life she refused to understand.

So within those first few raw days of the house and its structure in an every-morphing order, Nyk took it as her only opportunity to escape a life she felt too good to ever have to endure. Leaving the house itself was a feat, but after quickly evaluating the Underdark as a whole to be equally as harsh on her prospects, Nyk ascended to the light for the first time.

The luxuries she has had all her life were now her own responsibility to provide, and her finances to do so were nonexistent. The only resources she had were the same ones she’s been using all her life; her charm, her looks, and her entertaining skills. And the best place for those three things to flourish was Baldur’s Gate.

Nyk became a regular at taverns and the local brothel, primarily as an escort and entertainer. For a high enough price she was willing to sell a night to a high roller, but those situations were few and far between, as Nyk despised echoing shadows of her former glory as courtesan to a powerful drow house matron.

The money’s not enough, and the work was far more insecure than what she was used to.

Nyk is determined to make better money, and elevated herself to the lifestyle she knew almost all her life. And then, once she has all the money and power, she’ll have servants of her own.

Personality

Due to her upbringing, Nyk behaves much like a drow does, and lost a lot of her own culture and gnome identity. However, she has always maintained a softer and friendly edge that allows her to charm or entertain others.

While she has no quarrels escorting and entertaining, the act of prostitution itself is one she detests, mainly due to the utter downgrade of her life it reminds her of. However, she will work with what assets she has, but only when absolutely needed.

To those she is not being paid from nor incentivized to be charming, Nyk will come off as uppity, and carries herself as if she’s better than common folk. Nevertheless, she is used to be disrespected or undervalued, so she is accustomed to brushing off when it occurs.

Trivia

  • Nyk knows several magic card tricks, and can do a few simple coin magic tricks such as turning a copper into a silver.
  • There are only a few living Cloakshadow clan gnomes still living, and she is the only one not enslaved in the Underdark.