Tezrian is the dark goddess of blood and war, tangled in an infinite struggle with Haamiah, the god of light. The nemesis of Haamiah has no easy task, as her eternal foe is one of the only gods taking to good, this fact alone promising that leagues of mortals will blindly follow him. Tezrian spent ages studying the mortals, searching for their greatest weakness, the one thing they could not deny or refuse. As the different beings lived and loved, bred and reproduced, and mourned their losses, the goddess came to a realization. Carnal pleasures, sensual delights, bestial needs; these are the things she could offer the mortals, ensuring an endless supply of followers.
Erected then was the darkened gemstone city of Vohir, indulgences and fetishes of each sense catered to within its walls. It is there, in the temple to Tezrian, that her angels and demons plot the demise of the masses, offering up sensual gifts to woo the unsuspecting, the ultimate deception of bringing death with the promise of a pleasurable life. Many divi flocked to her hierarchy, realizing that the betrothals by the goddess would ensure a steady flow of mana, Lolth and Vhaeraun among them. Together the dark divi leech from the pious mortals, their strength growing immeasurable. They lie in wait for the perfect moment to bring their furious vengeance down upon Haamiah and his followers of light.
In a show of gratitude for the eternally dark and often silent city, vampiric beings often pledge their reverence to Tezrian, the goddess seeming to gift them with solace from their heightened senses. Drow also have a propensity to practice the dark religion, taking cues from Lolth and Vhaeraun, and fleeing as well to the twilight-bathed Vohir. Any other mortals with a lust for blood, a craving for war, or a preference for the macabre may choose this path as well.
The Dark Goddess of Blood and War prefers a very pleasing image of a vampiric human when taking to a physical form. Her alabaster skin is akin to porcelain; flawless, luminous, and smooth to the touch. Deep scarlet lips part to let flow a warm, soothing voice, and eyes of the deepest emerald bear into the very soul of anyone with whom she converses. Long, lustrous chestnut locks frame her perfect visage, though when in Vohir, the city bereft of light, her mane takes on a deep shade of ebon. Sporting a petite and delicate frame, Tezrian is deceptively strong, her well toned muscles usually hidden beneath layers of the finest velvet gowns in the richest hues, sanguine being her preference. Meticulously manicured nails tip her dainty fingers, and boots of the most extravagant leathers protect her feet from the often treacherous pathways she may traverse.
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