d6 even, so Female
'You are Drow royalty, from Drownesia. You are also a Barbarian.'
Simal of the house of Anapsed.
You also get 'LOSE CANNON WIZARD: ALWAYS DRUNK 75% OF TIME'
White Girl Dreadlocks.
|Totally ready to chant down Babylon|
Remember all those pictures of Drow in the splatbooks? How they all look cool and decadent, tough, evil, vaguely pervy and super-cool?
|Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of me being both sexy and dangerous.|
Well this girl was kept at the back of the class when they made those pictures. Clutching a felt wolf.
Imagine you are a basically nice person growing up in a society where slavery, racism and misandry are positively encouraged. A society in which you, by birth, occupy the highest rung. You aren't really into that shit at all, but there is no other option. And you have an INT of six. And you look a bit funny.
If you are highly intelligent maybe you become a radical or a revolutionary or you slowly decay into a kind of champagne socialist. But if you are too stupid to rationalise things then you have to do it a different way.
You can't read serious books because they don't import them and you wouldn't understand them anyway, but you can read the mass-produced barbarian chap-books that the merchants use for ballast because they are too irrelevant for the authorities to control. And you know there are White Elves somewhere. And you know there are Northern Wastes because you overhear your aunts talking about them.
Mum says you can't pray to Lloth to make you a Barbarian, but you know in your heart that's not true.
It starts small, maybe you get into wearing furs. Impractical in Drownesia, but not that odd. You want to learn how to use a sword. A two-handed sword. Strange. But mothers so glad you are finally taking an interest in violence she will give you whatever you want. You spend a lot of time outdoors.
'Well, she doesn't have many friends in class.'
Franzetta poster on the wall. Girls will be girls.
Making your own toy wolf.
Getting into shamanism.
'She gets full marks in religious education'.
Maybe Drow family trees don't even count male members, so you spend hours in the family library, leafing through the records, looking for a gap. Fantasising.
Could there be a Nornrik branch to the family? A black (white) sheep relative? A secret uncle? A torrid affair? A secret romance in the wastes? A family secret? A BARBARIAN SECRET?
"WHY DO I FEEL THESE THINGS?"
"IT HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING DOESN'T IT?
I'M NOT MAKING IT UP MOTHER!!"
Family shame and they stare at you in the street, but you can feel the song of the North Wind singing in your veins. The call of the untamed wastes, far from the corruption of civilisation. You have never left home. You learn the ship schedules. You save your pocket money. And it's a lot, because you are royalty.
The captain doesn't want to take you. But its Drownesia, and you are female royalty. No-one in your entire life has ever tried to stop you getting what you want.
NORTH! TO THE HOME OF GIANTS AND WINTER WOLVES!
You even tell people you are a barbarian and nobody says you aren't. It's like they don't even know. And they haven't made you go home yet. You can be whatever you say you are.
If you believe in something deeply enough you can make it true.
(I have survived one session and already caught a snow leopard. I was looking for a Worg but fuck it.)
Where did the wizard come from? Still working on that one.