Actors portrayal of Faentrai's mask, note that the mouth flap is missing. He uses the mouth flap for food and drink consumption, as well as his addiction to Stun Gas.

Faentrai Xaniqos is a half drow executioner. He has been a burden of Three Rivers and holds an enormous bounty. He has slaughtered over one hundred innocent citizens of Three, and countless others. It has become a mission of the Three Rivers Army to take out the bastard drow. Below is a discription of

Simple black clothing tells nothing of this person’s race. The only thing that gets your attention is his mask, that of an executioner. This mask is terrifying; the eye slits reveal nothing about his eyes. A flap is covering the mouth area, sewn crudely in place. The mask drapes down onto his tunic and shoulders, fastened to his neck with a noose. The noose is a strange thick black rope, cut down to only have a single foot of rope trailing onto his chest or back. At his sides, two small crossbows dangle from a holster. They appear to be an ivory, in contrast to his attire. Carvings of black webbing are engraved, with what look to be text. The body of the crossbows is entirely smooth, streamlined and compact. A small hook appears below both weapons, as well as a wicked barbed bayonet points out from the two crossbows. He wears chain covered in a black substance under his tunic.

***

Gath was certain he’d seen it all. At thirty-nine, he had been patrolling the city of Ultarius for nearly a decade. Though dangerously close to Viyxxis, the presence of Knights of Three staved off any connection to the vile place. He and his team had thwarted drug shipments, freed slaves, and even slain an fearsome illithid. Just ask any of his comrades, they’ve heard the story of how he famously cut off the head of the wretched beast. Some say he even keeps it stuffed in his house. Braggart or not, Gaths team had deterred Viyxxis from spreading its criminal aspect to the innocent sleepy town. He was almost bored, and felt like a reassignment. It had been three months since he had to use his rapier, and that was to fend from a few bandits without any casualties. Alas, he had been drilling his team and staying sharp for the eventual day he would have to use it.

“Sir, we have a problem.” The post guard had interrupted his day dreaming in the barracks.

“Yes postbeau?”

“It’s a murder, we think, sir.” The postbeau had been frantic, almost excited. Gath couldn’t blame the kid; he was probably an average fighter who got shipped down here because he didn’t pass the Academy with high enough marks. The poor bastard hadn’t ever even seen combat. Gath had been gathering his things as he thought, and was already walking with the post guard before he realized a change in the city. People were gathering, surrounding something. As the townsfolk cleared the way for him and his team, he saw the familiar sight of the gallows, with the unfamiliar feature of a hanging drow with a terrified look on his face.

“What in the Orcstain is that?”

“Sir, I believe it is a hanging.” The postboy said almost a little too sharply.

“Check the registry, I don’t remember a hanging being issued.”

“That’s the thing sir, there was no hanging on the registry.”

“I want whoever did this to show themselves, you broke code and are going to be prosecuted. Otherwise clear the scene” Gath was unenthusiastic, he was a fighter, not a crime solver. Private hanging was against the code, as was murder of course. But killing drow was a special clause, so this would be a complex ruling. Gath had assumed the killer would reveal himself, killing a drow is no small feat and once the person spent his night in jail, he would be glorified in the town. Unless of course it was a guard showing off, in that case Gath would have to be hard on him.

If this is one of my gaurds, I’m gonna ruin his life for the next month.

His thoughts were interrupted once again by a scream in the crowd.

“Look! There’s a man under the gallows!”

Gath quickly dropped to a knee, and found that it was so, a man was under the gallows. Specifically under the area where the drow was. Then, in a flash, the shadowy figure grabbed the drows lifeless feat, and tugged hard. Through a slight struggle, the drows head gave way and the shadowy figure pulled himself up on the gallows floors, now covered in steaming drow blood. The crowed was panicking. The blood created a strange contrast to the black visage of this stranger. His body was covered in black clothing, only accessorized with what looked like two small crossbows at his side. He looked frightening, in a sick way, this executioner. They had known he was the executioner because of his hood. The thing occurred to everyone was that this executioner had a noose around his neck, a black thick knotted one.

“Greetings, fair townsfolk. Do not be alarmed by my actions. I am ridding the world of tyranny.” The man spoke in a strange dialect, from no where near here it seemed. The guards wasted know time listening to this man speak, as they began to ready there weapons. Some of the crowed had ran off by now, but many were too enthralled and panic stricken.

“You are hereby arrested by the order of Three Rivers, to be judged in a court of Magistrate. You’re rights are limited to living and breathing should you fail to prove you are a citizen of Three.” Gath had recited the line dozens of times, but for some reason, he felt like it wouldn’t be so easy this time to fasten the manacles.

“But why, guard, I have done nothing but slay my brethren, whom I thought you hated. Was I wrong?” The visitor asked genuinely. A little too genuinely.

“You are correct, however we handle our business differently than the vile drow, and you incur edict to be killed on sight just by calling him a brethren.” Gath slowly reached for his flash charge, knowing it would blind the executioner longer than everyone else, if he was in fact a drow.

“Fair enough, can you please just assert if I have wronged your people by slaying my brethren, before you take me off.” The crowd looked to the lead guard for his response, and they almost looked as though they were waning on the logical outsiders side. This of course put Gath in a tough spot, he was already unpopular enough from the recent affair he succumbed to with the villagers. He needed to think quickly.

“You have benefited my people by slaying the beast, very much so. If all of you orcstained mutts would be more like you, we’d have a better world without the plague that is the drow.” Satisfied with the answer, the crowd looked to the executioner.

“So then, you agree that killing my brethren is the right course of action.”

“In simple terms yes, but you are still subject to-” Lighting fast hands grabbed an ivory crossbow in both hands, the left hand pointing at Gath and the other pointing behind the executioners shoulders. A would be assailant who had been sneaking up behind the gallows froze in terror as a crossbow promised certain death if he took another step toward the blood covered harbinger of death.

“Before the bloodbath begins, you should know that I am willing to spare all of you of the pain you are about to endure. Just kneel around me and I will deliver the shot straight into you’re head. A mercy you’re people or the drow would never offer.”

“Men! Move in for the attack!” Gath signaled for everyone to use his flash powder. With that, bright lights went off. During the daze, not a single scuffle could be heard save for a single, distinct crossbow shot. Following the shot, a hampered breath was gasped: Run everyone, please rr-.

When the haze of the flashing finally allowed Gath to regain his sights, he saw the unbelievable, nothing had changed save for the guard that was behind the executioner, grasping his throat covering the floor with additional blood. Years of tactics couldn’t do anything about this scenario; his men had simply frozen in fear along with the two dozen townsfolk. Gath began working his mind, trying to figure out if this was drow magic. But it hadn’t been. It was primal fear, muscle stopping fear that kept his elite unit from striking. And even now, as Gath watched the executioner tear through his men, his people, they were helpless to move. Gath decided it was time for him to attack. But he found himself second guessing his actions. His thoughts had clouded his combat, and by the time he snapped out of it…

“All dead. But in your defense, captain, you couldn’t have done anything. You we’re scarred. Don’t blame yourself. I know you feel as though I am wronging your people, and in a sense I am.” The drow was breathing down his neck, the only thing Gath could see was death around him. “You see, while I have done an evil to your people, they have committed thousands of evils upon the world, I am living proof.” Gath suddenly realized that he wanted to die. The image of what he had witness had just finally hit home with him. His mind replayed the graceful slaughter he had done nothing to stop. He wasn’t being held magically, he simply watched in terror as family and friends were dropped with a crossbow. The drow danced when he did it. He sung and seemed to be smiling, even though he couldn’t see his mouth Gath just knew it. “Captain, in all fairness, you did say it was ok to kill these people.” With that Gath felt the coldness of death for an instant as his spirit was suddenly aware that his body had hit the ground. Dozens of spirits were mourning with him, starring at him with dissapointment. He ignored them, and looked down upon the scene as the drow uttered a parting word. “Brother.”

Faentrai Xaniqos, Plague of Three; Executioner; Demon of the South