Scion of Shadow

Toril thrives in the light. I’ll have no part in dragging it down into darkness.

More than a century has passed since the Year of
Wild Magic and the return of Thultanthar, the City
of Shade, to the skies of Fa en In. This last bastion
of ancient Netheril had survived for over a millennium
in the depths of the Shadowfell, where the raw
essence of shadow has long intertwined with the
souls of the Shadovar. Some have become shades;
some are born shadar-kai. Most are still human, but
with an element of darkness about them.


You were born into the nobility of the Shadovar not
at any great rank, but high enough to ensure
yourself a position of power in the restored empire.
Like all Shadovar, you were raised to believe in Netherese
supremacy-bombarded constantly with the
knowledge that dominance was your people’s birthright,
that the other peoples of Toril were weak and
inferior, and that Netheril would rule once more.


You had no reason not to believe in your great
destiny. At least, not at first. However, as your education
progressed, you were sent out into the world
to observe Netherese military actions. Serving the
overseers of “reclaimed” communities, you would
occasionally skirmish with the border patrols of
neighboring nations. For reasons you still do not fully
understand, something in the world beyond Shade
Enclave spoke to you as your home never had.


You stood in the light of the sun, untouched by
the lingering darkness of the Shadowfell, and felt its
burn not as painful but as cleansing. You observed
the “weak and worthless” folk beyond Netheril and
perceived a simple joy for life that you could never
imagine seeing within the Shadovar. You knew
instantly that this was the life you wanted-one far
from the machinations, tyranny, and darkness of your
home.


You had to pull some strings and con your family
into pulling others. However, in the end, it wasn’t
hard to have yourself assigned to the ongoing Netherese
efforts in Neverwinter Wood, hunting for old
ruins and ancient magic. Your hope was that this
Shadovar endeavor farthest from Netheril would
provide you the opportunity to disappear before you
were missed.


It worked, in part. You were able to slip away
between expeditions into the woods and make your
way to Neverwinter. So far, you’ve managed to keep
your past a secret, seeming to be just one of the many
people trying to make a fresh start in a slowly recovering
city.


Yet something eats at you as you try to start your
new life. Your people have not come to the North
just to dig up the detritus of old empires.
The magic they find here is meant to be put to a purpose.
You don’t know what that purpose might be, but
before you left Netheril, you heard whispered rumors
that spoke of raising an enclave.


It’s a crazy idea. The magic to perform such a
mighty ritual hasn’t existed since the fall of Netheril
over a thousand years ago. Certainly, other enclaves
have been launched into the air since the Year of
Wild Magic, but these were existing structures. The
powerful magic of the mythallars that allows such
structures to take to the skies was already extant,
only needing repair. Surely nothing like that could be
found anywhere near Neverwinter … or could it?


You came to Neverwinter to flee, but more and
more, you wonder if you could ever have run far
enough. If you remain here, you know you won’t be
able to hide forever. If the Netherese succeed in their
plans for the region, a new Shadovar stronghold
might arise here- one possibly as mighty as Shade
Enclave. If that happens, you would find yourself in
the shadow of Netheril once again. Much as you’d
like to simply vanish into the darkness, the dark is
where your people are most dangerous. And that
means your only option is to face them here.

Scion of Shadow

Neverwinter mencavage