Legends of Belariath
Nobles and Other Significant Characters
Istoaj
Istoaj has been known to do many things people did not like, or would not ever think one capable of. He started his career, once free of the dwarven slavers, as a scrub in the slave camps. His lack of emotion and knack for the craft of breaking people’s spirits caused him to get noticed by the one who ran the slaver’s camp, a barbarian named Shach. He decided to take the dark elven under his wing, teaching him how to break both the slave’s spirit and their body for use, and to sell to the right clientele. However, he didn’t count on the dark elf’s cruelty, or the dark elf’s ingenuity. After spending a year or so under Shach’s tutelage, Istoaj found an opportunity to take over the camp. Using a mixture of hemlock and Dragon’s Bone from the healer’s at the camp, he was able to poison Shach, and keep him from ever waking up. As the barbarian drew his final breaths, Istoaj forged a document that acted as a last order from Shach himself, and when the barbaroan drew his last, Istoaj appeared holding the paper, saying this camp was now his. No one dared to stand up to him, hoping that the fate of the barbarian would not be theirs.
The next few years he ran the slaver’s camp with an iron fist. He punished slaves and trainers when they got out of line. He made the camp rich, selling to the right people, buying and capturing the right slaves for the tastes of their clients. There was a day, however, that changed all that, and brought his reign in question. The camp raided an elvish settlement, and he found a girl that he began to get enamored with. The elven had a grace about her, a certain way she carried herself, and he knew that she would make a perfect slave. An added bonus to the affair was that she was being trained as a healer, and he could use one for his personal use. So, Istoaj ripped the girl out of her mother’s arms, caring not about the weeping and begging. His heart was cold, and he wanted her for himself. He took the girl as his personal slave, but that changed things in the camp. The followers saw him as weak for doing so, for breaking the rules, and in a world where strength rules all, doing so was unforgivable. At first, no one dared speak anything against them, as he kept the money coming in, and things did not change much.
When the years began to get leaner, and the pickings got much slimmer, whispers of a revolt came to his ears. After keeping the girl for several years, training her as his personal slave, for his personal use, he was confronted one night by three of his lieutenants. The three demanded he sell off his prized slave, or they would take charge, and make him less than he was. He had a real choice now. He must demonstrate his dominance in a manner he could not otherwise, or they would take control from him. He took a prized possession he had, a bladed whip, and began beating his slave over and over; giving her the worst beating she could have ever received. When he was done, the elven girl was a sobbing, quivering, bleeding mass, and she could barely crawl to the healer’s tent. When she was well enough to leave the tent, she never looked at him the same way again, and to save himself from both a repeat of this, and from her hateful stares, he sold her at their next stop, a dwarven camp in the mountains. The slave girl begged for her life, begging to stay with him, her fear of the dwarves greater than the fear of him and his touch, but Istoaj hardened his heart, knowing he had no other choice. When he said his final goodbye to her, he whispered to her…”I will be ba’k ‘un day rothe.” Of course, she didn’t believe him, and he left her crying and begging for forgiveness.
In the months that followed, Istoaj tried to put the elven out of his mind, doing his best to move on, but he was unable to. He was angry; both at himself and at those who dared to challenge him. So, he planned and plotted, beginning his revenge. The first lieutenant who challenged him was found dead, throat slit while he slept. The second lieutenant, a shekya, was beaten within an inch of his life, then collared and sold at their next stop. No one dared speak up when the first died, and no one dared stop the selling of the shekya. The third lieutenant fled in the night, knowing his fate was something far worse. Soon after those incidents, the camp broke up, each going their own way, those underneath Istoaj afraid of crossing him, or of following him any further. So, alone with a modest sum of money, he went back to the dwarven camp, to fulfill his promise. Upon his return to the camp, he sought out the girl who was his, and would be his once more. The dwarf he sold the elven to claim she ran away, when in truth, she was in a cage below the mountain, out of range of his hearing. She had heard of his return, and was about to go to him, beg for him to kill the dwarf, but she was caught, and stuffed in that cage to keep her away from Istoaj. He could not fulfill his vow, she was gone, to his eyes, and that was the final straw. He would reinvent himself, become something unlike which he was, and leave the training of slaves and the selling of them behind. It was then he adopted the name ‘Olplyn’, which means, in dark elven, ‘Thief. That was what he was now, a thief, and killer for hire.
Olplyn, as he was known now, wandered the lands, going from city to city, taking what he wanted, killing any who got in his way, or any who he was paid to kill. He never visited the same little hamlet more than once, as he had no real way to disguise who he was. He hated magic, and all it stood for, using it only if there was no other way, so he could not change his appearance, which made hiding himself in plain sight almost impossible. The day he heard of the capital city of the Empire of Nathalion, his first instinct was to stay far away from it. In capitals, people were under close surveillance, and watched their things much closer than they did on the smaller hamlets. However, he could stay there for much longer, as people tended to get lost. He would have to keep a low profile for a while though, get used to the customs, the way things worked, and gain proper employment.
His first task was helping to firebomb the Inn, something he could relate to. He also could relate to the girl who was hiring him to do the job, after all, she was a fetching figure of a dark elven wench. Word of his discretion spread, and he was sought out for another task: the stealing of an object from someone’s keep. He accomplished the task well enough, save for an arrow to the shoulder, and received his reward. He kept low for a long while after that, until he found the people of the city too soft. He began to acquire both wealth and influence, so he used that to bring in a man after his own heart. This man targeted the slaves of the powerful and influential, and left little clue to as what his methods were. Istoaj himself even aided in the task, until being double-crossed by the man. Their ‘relationship’ ended in a fight that was both bloody and violent, resulting in the death of his slave. It was then he decided trusting others was a mistake, so he would not make the same mistake again. If he had a job to do, it was done alone. When the task of making someone pay for the assault on someone he cared for (but would never admit), Istoaj decided on a more devious plan. He would poison the one who assaulted his pet, and watch the man die. As with all of life’s goals, it was not as simple as just doing the deed. The poison’s effect was dumbed down by what he added it to, which was unexpected, but he could tell his point got across. However, he had another plan in mind…one that would turn this town on its head.
The plan began with a brazen theft of supplies mid-day from the Silent Embrace. He stole hemlock, his favorite poison, on a grand scale. The next phase of his task was a little more complex. After covering his trail, he began phase two: the poisoning of the Inn’s patrons. He would make sure those who were his stayed away from the Inn as he did this. Poisoning several kegs of ale, and several liquid goods used in cooking, his plan was coming together. Everything he had planned for, everything he worked for was working flawlessly. Someone saw him, however. Someone reported what he had done to the ears of the Emperor himself. He was taken before the Emperor and given a choice: he could either die for the crimes he had committed, or he could become the Emperor’s personal assassin. Kill who he wanted killed discreetly, bring in those he wanted caught without drawing attention, and do so at his beck and call. He would be given a cover job as well, as imperial slave trainer, a job the Emperor had heard he was quite good at. So, to save his life, he took the position, and began his next life, the life of the imperial assassin, forever a shadow.