Reality did not take long in dashing those dreams down, as he was not able to keep up with the cost of spell components, new books, inks, laboratory supplies, and the like. Frustrated, he then took up thieving once again, in an attempt to maintain his apprenticeship...and it was not long before he was caught in the act by a rather influential citizen, Ilharess Laele Zauviir, along with her small retinue of daughters and guards. Having been in the middle of "borrowing" a purse full of coin from one of the Ilharess' daughter's, the Matron herself managed to spot him, and summarily had her guards set upon him. If it were not for a retinue of City Guards being nearby as well, Krenaste would most assuredly have been killed on the spot. As it stood, teasing and snubbing off the Matron as he went, Krenaste was carted away to prison.

As Lolth's clergy did not hold complete sway over Sshamath, like they did in certain other Underdark cities, the Matron was not free to do as she pleased with Krenaste. However, that did not stop her from having a few attempts made upon his life while he was imprisoned. Having no other choice--in his own eyes at least--Krenaste took it upon himself to make good his escape (though he only succeeded by virtue of Vhaeraun's clergy assisting him behind the scenes), leaving his apprenticeship, and the City of Darkweavings itself far behind.

Being nothing more than a petty thief in the eyes of the Sshamathan Conclave, they did not make much in the ways of an effort to recapture him. The Zauviir Matron on the other hand had him pursued relentlessly as he wandered from city to city. At times he would enter a city only to find that there were hunters laying in wait for him. Frustrated at the excess pressure the Ilharess' pursuits were putting on him, he managed to come up with another way to avoid her: hide in plain sight. As he had some basic training in magic, was decent with a blade, and had few peers when it came to acrobatics, it was not difficult for him to impress a veteran Bladesinger enough to take him into apprenticeship. Krenaste had no real desire to take upon himself the codes and "chivalry" of the Bladesingers, he merely wanted an edge when it came to dealing with his pursuers: the Bladesingers were given more than a nominal amount of respect in any part of Drow society, even being able to snub the commands of a Matron Mother every so often.

As such, he was protected by his newfound brethren, the Wasp Clan Bladesingers, from any further attempts on his life by the Ilharess Zauviir's minions.

A year later, with his basic training completed and a small reputation amassed for himself, he departed from his Clan with a new outlook and a more befitting name. The more base aspects of his roguish ways had indeed been tempered during the apprenticeship, while others were sharpened more than ever, and he very much wished to live up to the true meaning of being a Bladesinger, taking a certain pride in what his brotherhood stood for. With the Zauviir "thing" pushed to a forgotten corner of his mind, the man now known as Vesz'aun -- the Blood Dancer -- set off once more into the vast wilderness of the Underdark....

After a month or so of wandering and carrying out "good" deeds, he'd arrived on the outskirts of the city of his downfall once more, Sshamath. While still debating on whether or not he should push his luck and return to the City of Dark Weavings, an anguished scream came to his keen ears. Being the "hero" that he was, Vesz'aun promptly made his way towards the terror stricken being. What he came across shortly thereafter made him pause a moment: a rather comely young drowess with hair the hue of flame was being set upon by one of the nightmarish Phaerimm, a creature of great magic and legend...a terror to even the Drow. Such was this female's beauty, to his eyes at least, that he did not immediately recognize her as a face from his past.

Shrugging in a manner somewhat resigned, and moreso happy-go-lucky, knowing it was his duty to "save the day", he deftly drew his blade and jumped headlong into the fray. A few nice blows were landed upon the Phaerimm during Vesz'aun's acrobatic and precise display of skill-at-arms. The tide turned all too quickly though, as he was far outmatched by the creature. It was but a few heartbeats more, just after having made an attempt at casting a quick spell upon the creature, that Vesz soon found himself dazed and bladeless, slithering down a wall. His Chromatic Orb had been reflected back upon him by the diabolic creature of magic, leaving his wits dulled by pain and spellcraft of his own creation.

Eyesight blurry at best, he let out a frustrated growl and let his keen elven ears hone in on his target. Reaching into a pouch, he pulled out the "funny rock" he'd found some time ago while exploring the Netherese Caverns, and tossed it at the quickly advancing Phaerimm. The explosion that followed caused him to fall the rest of the way into unwanted slumber.

After a time, he awakened to find the young drow lady laying unconscious nearby; looking around, all he could find of the Phaerimm was a splatter of gore and limbs. Counting himself very lucky for the victory, he recovered his Thinblade and quickly assessed what should be done next. Being the opportunist, he took it upon himself to carry the young lady into the nearby city, hoping for at least some small reward for the part he played in saving her. During the trip it dawned on him that the young drowess was of the Zauviir family, and in fact she had been there the day he was caught by the Matron Mother of that house. A fact which Xull'rae remembered immediately upon rousing, for Vesz'aun's was not a forgettable face, either, comely as he is. Whether out of having a sense of repayment for his saving her life or some other reason altogether, she did not turn him in to the Matron nor reveal his presence in the city. Moreseo, the one he came to know as Xull'rae had rewarded him for his services with a "friendship" of sorts. It was not long until Vesz'aun became infatuated with Xull'rae, and is loyally serving her, and lusting after her, and mayhaps one could even say "loving" her, to this very day.....

© 2006 Commissioned Art by Luisa
Permission to use not granted