Gianni Diaopian

He prefers to wear the garb of the lower class

> "My father was a good man. My brothers, not so much. Someone has to redeem our family name. If they are unfit, then I'll be the one to remind the world that Drow aren't all monsters. I owe the man that much." - Gianni to a surviving servant before leaving home
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## **Appearance**

Gianni, like most Drow, is a tall and slender man. His eyes are a softer shade of red than the usual crimson. He has a certain frailty to him, a lifetime spent dealing with sickness keeping his muscles relatively undeveloped for a fighter. His hair is almost shoulder length, and naturally forms waves. When he speaks, he's so soft spoken that unless people are truly paying attention to him, they're prone to miss what he says.

His preferred form of dress is the sort of tattered clothing one would expect to find on a laborer, sometimes even a beggar. He keeps what money he carries in several small pouches, so that if a pickpocket attempts to take his wealth, they'll have enough for a few good meals and comfortable lodging for a week. His twin blades are hidden inside his garments, inconspicuously held close to his chest.

## **History**

   The youngest scion of House Diaopian, the youngest son of Grymdres, Gianni was born with magic in his veins, and talent in his hands. He was also born with illness in his lungs. A stark contrast to his two older brothers, Bhorzyd and Didemra, who were the spitting image of fine health. As such, he was the most pampered by the household servants, and spent the most time with his father. He admired Grymdres deeply, copying everything he did, his manner of speech, his fighting style, and most importantly, espousing his beliefs.
This lead to him being rather disliked by his siblings, who received less attention and favor. While they were also gifted, they were drawn to the more cruel instincts of the Drow, something the family had long forbidden since they sided with Andoran during the war for independence. Ancient sins crept back into the two, much to their father's dismay. Gianni, on the other hand, was gentle to the point of impotence. He could fight just as well as they, if not better, but he always hesitated to cause harm. A trait endearing him all the more to his father, as well as the humans they employed in their mansion, but making him look even more weak and detestable to his violent older brothers.

   As it is with the longer lived races, the trio grew older slowly, watching generations of humans come and go around him while he remained at home, training and studying, acquiring skills, developing talents, growing. Gianni grew vibrantly under the tender care of his father, who was a famous duelist in Andoran as well as a lifelong member of their military, proudly defending their people against Chelaxian oppression, and spreading the message of freedom and equality abroad. His brothers had joined the army as well, but only because they felt they had to, while Gianni was not allowed to participate due to his poor health, and a tad too much protectiveness. They served in the unit commanded by their father, as his lieutenants. Nepotistic, perhaps, but there were few short lived races that wanted to serve in proximity to the Drow, despite their hard earned familial reputation. For those who could not remember their decades of service, the dark skin, white hair, and intimidating eyes were too reminiscent of their more wicked brethren.

   The actions of Bhorzyd and Didemra did little to improve these relations. They were harsh with their soldiers, had no qualms with torturing their enemies for information, and were rumored to do so for pleasure. They lost whatever loyalty that Grymdres had inspired. This would result in an unfortunate tragedy. According to the official reports that Gianni was allowed to read, what happened was a Chelaxian ambush while the unit lead by Grymdres was patrolling from one of the border forts, with the good captain and a large number of the soldiers listed as casualties. Although his body was never recovered, Bhorzyd and Didemra were confident they had seen him fall. Their foul influence on his soldiers made the presence of unrelated people at the funeral mediocre at best. The two older siblings left as soon as the ceremony ended, hardly bothering to pay their final respects. Gianni was the last one to leave the empty graveside.

It was then that he was approached by one of the few survivors from the unit, an Elf that had served with his father for a very long time. He told Gianni that not all was as it seemed. He hadn't seen exactly what had happened to the captain, but this was by no means the first time they had been attacked like that. It was a standard raid, and they were more than prepared to handle it. They ended up being routed because the captain gave no orders. In fact, when the vanguard of the patrol went silent for too long, the captain was nowhere to be found at all. His sons, the lieutenants, were likewise missing, up until the few soldiers who escaped the grasp of the devil worshippers banded together for their safe return towards the fort. They were largely uninjured, and both looked . . . pleased with themselves.

Being a trusting young man, Gianni gave his brothers the benefit of the doubt without hesitation, telling the man that his suspicions were unfounded, and they'd find his body for a proper funeral eventually. However, upon returning home, he discovered that the mansion had been ransacked. The servants had all either fled or been butchered, everything valuable that wasn't too heavy to be moved had been torn down and absconded with. His brothers were, once again, nowhere to be found. Even his naivete was challenged by this. He couldn't imagine this was a coincidence. He used what few resources he could collect to try and drum up some clues as to what happened, hiring investigators or pleading with the state to no avail. He was left homeless, destitute, and searching for answers. He felt that the nation of Andoran had failed them, latent racism and a general mistrust of the old blooded nobility isolating him from people that should have otherwise been performing the same search for the truth that he was.

He decided to hunt for his brothers outside of the birthplace of freedom, to employ the skills painstakingly given to him through years of his father's wise tutelage. As a Drow, he was far older than most humans in the world, yet he'd spent most of that time in the safety of his own home and the surrounding land, a proverbial cradle. While he was quite capable with a blade, and used his natural magics to great effect, he was largely ignorant of the ways of the world, and how cruel it could be. Where he always extended a hand in the aid of strangers, he found that few were willing to do that same in return. His quiet nature mixed with his heritage made him an easy scape goat when things went wrong, as well as easy to ignore whenever he asked for assistance. If it weren't for the flame that his father enkindled in his heart to pursue justice and protect others, he very easily could have fallen into a dark place that his brothers had likely leapt into with abandon.

Years of fruitless hunting across the lands later, his travels ended up taking him to Absalom. He'd heard rumors of very knowledgeable folk, and he was particularly keen to see a land filled with the many conflicting factions coexisting in an uneasy harmony. What happened once he arrived was where the true story began . . .

## **Ambitions**

Gianni's ambitions were twofold. He sought to uncover the truth of his father's death, and as a part of that, ascertain the guiltiness in his brother's eyes. If he found them to be guilty, he intended to capture them, and return them to Andoran where they could be tried and executed as traitors and murderers, expunging their father's dishonor. His second objective was to find a worthy cause to join, one that would give him ample opportunity to not only live up to the spirit of sacrifice and willing servitude that his father carried with him to the end of his days, but also to achieve the change in the people that he gave his life in the process of accomplishing.

## **House Diaopian**

When Andoran won its freedom from Cheliax, everything changed for the better, for most of the citizens, that is. They abolished the standing aristocracy, and stripped the nobles of their titles. Most of the noble houses existing in Andoran chose to flee to Cheliax with whatever wealth they could manage to carry, especially those of the less smiled upon races, such as the Drow. House Diaopian was different. The matriarch of the family chose to remain in the newly independent Andoran, and use their centuries of wisdom and experience to help guide the nation, despite losing their inherent influence.

The generations continued on, but the family was forced to the fringes of society due to the prejudice formed against them during the time of imperial rule. The hatred and mistrust was not unfounded, and it was the policy of House Diaopian to turn the other cheek. Over time, they believed that the others would see the evidence of their redemption, and come to accept them. The regular acts of terrorism and nightmarish cruelty perpetrated by the Drow of Cheliax made this effort almost futile. Their family home was built in the far reaches of Almas already, and it was avoided by the majority of the population for fear that the family were secretly Chelaxian sympathizers or spies.

Given their betrayal of Cheliax, and their reputation as humble do-gooders, the Drow of Cheliax went out of their way to antagonize and attack the errant House. They'd regularly set traps for them, forcing them to either suffer great indignity, or lash out at what would appear to be innocents in front of their neighbors. It was like living in a minefield made entirely of public opinion. If they stood up for themselves, they'd become the villains they sought to bring down, but if they allowed the constant abuse, they would become less and less like people, and more like strawmen used as target practice. An unenviable position to be in.

Yet, the family did not falter. They took their losses in stride, some more easily than others, the majority of their members going on to be public servants or faithful soldiers. Like most of elvenkind, they did not often have offspring, which was offset by the fact that they could live several times longer than most of their constituents. In the face of racism, spite, and ignorant fear, they held true to their ideals, all of the way to the most recent generation, where the first cracks in this ironclad family lineage formed, and then shattered into darkness, leaving only one piece still hanging on by a thread in the form of the young master Gianni.