Malagar's Journal
I have seen a number of the party members writing journals about
their travels through the realms, but until now, thought it was
not important. Events have taken a recent turn, as now the party
is seriously considering returning to my home, the Underdark. It
has been difficult to conceal the fear that this idea holds in me.
The usual shows of bravado are beginning to wear thin. One thought
only gives me comfort in the ordeal of waiting in expectation of
returning, that of the joy I have experienced seeing the sun rise
in the morning; the knowledge of knowing you will not be attacked
on a moments notice. For this I praise all the gods that have made
these last few months possible.
Recently, we have experienced the death and resurrection of one
of our numbers, Neil. Having been confined to our quarters for a
short while, I now have some free time on my hands. I have turned
down the chance to yet again drink with Kraegan to reflect on the
events of my life. Also, now that I have had the freedom to learn
how, I shall write these thoughts down for any who wishes to read
them. For if I never return from the Underdark, which I may fear
may be the case, I wish for the surface world to know that there
once was a man named Malaggar.
Thinking back to my initial contact with the drow, when
they initially had taken me as a slave, I have little remembrance.
I was but a lad, no more than five. Only vague images and sounds
echo in the depths of my mind of my life before capture. I sense
warm feelings of my parents and life. I am confident that they were
good to me and pray that they were not killed in my taking, though
I feel in my heart that they were. How I long to look upon those
who call me son and know who I am. Perhaps this is but a dream,
or is it a possible reality? If the possibility exists, I will find
them.
The time of my capture is hazy and all I remember is an
endless failing into darkness, and a never-ending sleep. When I
woke, I found myself cold, battered, and blind. At this time, I
did not know that I was underground. Later, when I recovered from
my initial capture, I discovered I was not blind, but I'm getting
ahead of myself. Upon initially waking, I found myself amongst bodies
of similarly captured folk. I had always been a willful child and
so kept my mouth shut. This may have saved me, for the drow are
not known for their compassion for crying children. After a period
of time, we were gathered together and shackled; young with the
old, human with the humanoid. Together we were led to the mines
that were to become my home for the next ten years.
Ten years of grueling labor. As a child, I was set to doing
lighter tasks, though no less demanding for my tiny frame. Carry
this, lift this, feed this, water this, shovel this, etc. I watched
about as my fellow line mates worked, laboring under the weight
of chain and the driver’s eye. Perhaps it was the slave driver’s
eye that was the heaviest burden to carry. The unpredictability
of when the lash would strike was a constant threat, as well as
a reminder of your worth in their society. Whether you have done
something wrong, or if it simply pleased him to beat you, was always
a mystery. From his lash, many fellows on the line fell, several
died. Death was no mystery for a slave. It could come from the driver’s
whip, the noble’s sword, or from each other. Just because you are
a slave taken at a particular time does not mean you are shackled
next to another of your own race. Often goblins or orcs would be
shackled on the same line as you. One would need to be careful when
rations became short, or you may become dinner. Ironically, my life
was finally spared from this hell when such a creature decided to
make me his dinner.
As a lad of thirteen of fourteen, the hard labor had started
to show on my physique. I had grown tall and strong, stronger than
most on my line. Often I was sent to do the heaviest work, which
only added to the pounds of muscle on my frame. In this respect,
I had it easier than some slaves. As others weakened from the work,
I thrived and became larger. This very same size gained me the grudging
respect of the "non-human" slaves. Few orcs or goblins
would so much as eye me. One night though, hunger drove one goblin
insane and he immediately attacked me for a large source of food.
That night, my size and build had gained me other observers. The
goblin attacked with ferocity belying his size, madness blazing
from his eyes. Never had I fought before, always depending on my
size keeping the creatures at bay. In desperation, I reached out
and picked up a rock to defend myself with. Almost immediately,
the creature set upon me, ripping into my flesh. With a resounding
crash that I will never forget, no matter how long I may live, the
rock crashed down on the foul being’s head. With a glazed look in
its eyes and blood pouring from its ears, it fell into a pile at
my feet. L had not dealt this victory without injury, though. Blood
poured from several cuts and punctures on my body. I would have
surely died, if it had not been for my dark mistress.
Oh yes, my dark mistress. She was my life: my surrogate
mother, my lover, and my most hated enemy. She was all of these
things, my dark mistress. That night she looked upon this confrontation
with pleasure, as I crushed the life from the goblin. I would have
surely died from my injuries that night, if my dark mistress had
not looked upon me with favor. She had recently lost her prized
slave, her "pet" in a pit fight against another's slave.
In that mine that night, she saw the potential for a new champion
and a new breeder. Apparently rumors of my strength had run throughout
the slave lines, from which the slave drivers learned. When my mistress
lost her slave and inquired for a new one, I became the object of
selection. She immediately had me brought to her after the confrontation
with the goblin and healed me through the "grace" of Lolth.
She had allowed the fight to happen, perhaps even had it initiated,
to see if my strength was truly as it had been rumored. Surely a
human with strength such as this at such an early age would mature
into a "fine specimen". From that day forward, my life
had changed. It had changed from the horrors of the mines to the
horrors of the nobility of the drow. Without this change, though,
I may have died as a slave in the mines. Taken as the personal pet
of my dark mistress, I at least had a chance to survive a reasonable
life of unpredictable comfort.
The years with my dark mistress blended into one another in my
mind. I do remember my first day with her and much of the events
of the following few years. Bringing me from the mines, she brought
me to the manor of Barrison del’ Armgo. The structure of this place
is beyond explanation. The entirety of it reeked of magic and of
the fowl evil of the drow. Drow buildings are carved and shaped
from the very rock of the surrounding cave. This manor is extensive
in its multi-levels and twisting corridors. I had been through most
of the common grounds and through some of the priestess’ corridors,
and so become familiar with some of the areas most do not see. Upon
first reaching my mistress's quarters, she had me cleaned up, but
left naked. At that time, I spoke very little drow, so did not understand
much of what had been said. Looking back on it, I realize now that
she was informing me who was in charge. She would reach out and
caress my cheek in almost a motherly fashion. No sooner would the
hand be withdrawn, than would the lash would come down on my bare
flesh. This went on for hours, first kindness, then the lash. My
dark mistress had to bring we back from the brink of death several
times due to her "loving" lesson and I'm sure my screams
are still resounding through those dark corridors. So began our
relationship. For the next couple of weeks, continuing for what
I'm sure was several years, she had taught me much. The first thing
she taught me was the drow language. If ever I made a sound that
sounded anything like my former tongue, down would come the lash.
For any drow spoken incorrectly, down came the lash. For perfect
pronunciation of drow, a possible warm caress on the cheek. I came
to dread the lash and long for that loving caress. Also during this
time, at night she would lock me in a cage that she had installed
in her room in the corner. When I wasn't being taught, I was to
remain in the cage quietly or else the lash. I learned the drow
language remarkably fast; it's amazing how fast you learn something
when you have proper incentive. Once I mastered the language, I
then learned appropriate etiquette and how to address my superiors,
namely everyone. The same method of learning was used: correct answer
would earn a caress and an incorrect would receive the lash. Over
this time, I was learning exactly what to say to her for optimal
effect, to gain that caress I craved so dearly. After what I estimate
was about a year, I had learned enough of her and other drow women
that I found that I could say the right thing almost regularly.
It was also after this year, I started to realize my purpose to
her.
The house of Barrison del' Armgo has an extensive breeding program.
By breeding specific individuals, they hoped to gain superior stock
for fighting and magic. I soon found that I was to become breeding
stock for the family. I think perhaps they were hoping to breed
some half drow/half humans so to gain the best of both. These breeds
would then have the strength of a human, mixed with the characteristics
of a drow. By doing so, they would gain a sort of super fodder for
their inter-house wars. If this was the original fate for myself,
then something changed along the way. Once I had mastered the language
and etiquette, which I estimate to have taken a couple of years,
I was sent to some drow weapon training instructors. To my amazement,
they started to teach me tactics and the use of weapons. These very
same instructors taught me how to pull maneuvers to negate an opponent’s
effectiveness, such as disarming, and how to fight with two weapons.
In fighting with two weapons, they found me quite competent, referring
to me as "two hand". This was not the first surprise in
store for me. My dark mistress brought in fine tailors and had some
of the finest clothes in the most recent fashions made for me. I
see now that she wished for her "pet" to have the best
appearance possible. Often she would take me in tow when she dealt
with others, especially underlings. The last surprise in store for
me still has an impact on me. After one day of weapons training,
I was led back to her quarters by the guards as usual. When I entered
the room, my cage was no longer in the corner of the room. However,
she was in her bed. From that night forward, I shared her bed each
night. It was these nights that I started to realize that our relationship
was not completely typical as would usually be between drow priestess
and her slave. The lash started to come less and less, the caress
coming more and more.
Don't get me wrong, she was still drow through and through. There
were several days that she would come into her room storming and
the snake headed whip would be addressed. It just seemed that when
these days did occur, she would attempt to make it up to me. After
one particularly bad occasion when she just about killed me with
that very same weapon, I awoke the next morning having just recovered
from the injuries. There, lying next to me on the bed, was my first
sabre, the guard in the shape of a large spider enveloping the hand.
From that day forward, I was allowed to carry it when accompanying
her. After that day, I would have given my life to keep her safe.
My life had become a life of relative ease, compared to most slaves
held by drow. I had fine clothes, good food, and a mistress who
was kind to me more than she was cruel. I was taken to several fights
where I would fight another priestess' slave in a sort of pit fight.
I believe that I had my mistress pleased, winning the victories
that I did. Over this time, my physical size became larger yet,
towering over most drow. Furthermore, my strength became legendary
throughout the household, being able to do physically that which
drow required magic to accomplish. Which brings me to my lifelong
enemy: Uthengentel. Uthengentel Barrison del' Armgo is the weapon
master of the house and mate to the matron mother. He is rumored
to be the greatest combatant in all the city. His appearance is
truly despicable, having self-mutilated much of himself. This disgusting
creature has pierced his own throat with his house insignia. Unfortunately,
rumor of my strength and privileged position had reached even his
ears. The few times I had seen him in the training hall, a look
of open contempt was sent my direction. It was very evident to me
that he hated me, most likely for my privileged status among the
slaves. He and I always kept our distance from one another, until
circumstances led to our confrontation.
After weapons training one day, I was once again taken
back to my dark mistress' quarters. She was there waiting for me.
She approached me and had me sit down on her bed. She reached off
the bed, picked up a package, and handed it to me. She then informed
me that this was my nineteenth year of life. I immediately opened
the package and stared in wonder at its contents. The largest item
was a piwafwi obviously tailored for myself. The second was
a small neck purse, such as what all drow use to carry their money.
To my amazement, though, the pouch's carrying capacity greatly exceeds
that of a normal pouch of similar size. Furthermore, this pouch
contained gold. I was completely confused by this extensive act
of generosity, but she told to be quiet and all would be explained.
She then reached to a table and picked up a series of needles and
some inks. So was born this tattoo that appears over my right eye.
It is a status symbol, identifying me as her personal property.
With it, if any drow were to kill me, they would be punished severely
by her hand. At this point, I seriously wondered if I was still
in the typical slave role or if our relationship had become something
different. Throughout this complex series of hallways, I had never
seen any other slave with such items as I had been given. Once the
tattoo had been finished and the bleeding had stopped, she took
her leave saying that I was to join her for some sort of ceremony.
The implication was that I was to walk there unaccompanied by her
or any other guards. At this point, I was completely loyal to her
and she knew it. 0nce again, though, I have to emphasize that something
different was going on.
I started on my way to the ceremony, but to my future despair,
Uthengentel was coming my direction. He walked in the middle of
the hall, forcing all to move aside. It had not even occurred to
me at this point what he might have been doing in the priestess’
portion of the estate. He walked directly towards me and stopped
in front of me. His gaze took in all, the piwafwi, the tattoo,
the fine clothes. He looked at all of this and sneered. Still filled
with the confidence that my mistress had instilled in me and undying
loyalty for the kindness she showed me, I committed the most foolish
act of my entire life. I raised my eyes and glared into his. With
lightening quick reflexes, he drew his dagger and slashed me across
the face, flipped the dagger around, then stuck it into my midsection.
The next thing I remember is floating in a gossamer web and then
being wrenched from it. I awoke upon my mistress' bed, my injuries
healed. Looking into her eyes, I saw both blazing anger and concern.
I was never punished for my insubordination to Uthengentel, but
rumor had it that he was reprimanded for cutting me down. I still
wear the badge he gave me in our first confrontation. When my skill
far exceeds my strength, I will confront him again, but this time
it will not be me bleeding on the stone.
This confrontation eventually led to my escape from the
drow. Several months later, I was again training with swords in
the training hall. Before I realized what had happened, I was hit
by a dart from a drow hand crossbow. I awoke somewhere in the wilds
of the Underdark with a pack of blood thirsty drow. As far as I
can gather, they were supposed to have killed me and hid the body.
I can only assume that Uthengentel had ordered this. Rather than
killing me, I heard whispers of selling me on the surface. It did
not register that they meant the surface of the world, the place
where light exists. The days with this group blend into one another,
and I have fairly little remembrance of them. I had blocked out
most of what was happening to me so to survive and retain my sanity.
Somedays. they used me as a training item, setting me loose only
to be hunted down and filled with the crossbow bolts of the novice
soldiers. I thought that surely I would die every time I was sent
off. They stripped me down, leaving me with just about nothing.
My sabre was broken by their leader, most of my finery taken and
destroyed. I was only left my loincloth, piwafwi, and neck
pouch. I think that the only reason they did not take my pouch is
that it had my mistress' symbol on it. Even these drow respect the
power of a priestess of Lolth. Days dragged on until one day I found
myself in a small closed room. Looking around, I saw the light of
day streaming through a crack in the door. I remember the joy of
my first experience again with the light of day. I will always cherish
that memory. Shortly after my revelation, I heard yelling. The door
was thrown open and again the tell tale darts. You would think that
with all of the drow poison that has coursed through my veins, I
would get used to it. And With all the dart holes in my skin, it’s
a wonder I can drink without all of the liquid spilling out. Again
long darkness of sleep, only to awaken in a stone room, but this
one is stifling hot. The sounds of battle rage outside the door.
I then realize that there is another with me. Reaching down, I realize
it is an old man. There was no way I was going to allow anything
to happen to that old man. At that point, I wanted my freedom from
the darkness worse than anything else. Some benevolent being must
have heard my prayer, for at that moment the door opened and I met
my present adventuring company for the first time.
This is my story up until joining with the company. The
rest since then is common knowledge and can be acquired easily.
This part of my story I felt needed to be told. I hold it as a warning
to all those who wish to visit the Underdark. I hold it also as
a testimony of my feelings for my dark mistress. I am still unsure
of what our relationship was. One of my fondest dreams is to have
her leave the faith of Lolth and bring her to the surface, so that
I may share its wonder with her. The other dream I have is to stick
a dagger into her belly as well as every other drow in the Underdark.
I am a man with my dichotomies. The drow are a race that I both
hate and love. This still leaves the question, what do you do with
a man who calls the Underdark home?
[Next entry]
The party has spoken of going into the Underdark. I have had but
only a year, and yet I may already be returning to that which I
have left. I have mixed feelings about returning. I understand the
importance of this mission we are to conduct; the recovery of the
forge. Yet, I find it difficult to shake off the dread that fills
my being at the thought of returning. Perhaps, while down below,
I will do the world a favor and destroy some drow. This is one thing
to look forward to.
[Next entry]
We have been traveling in the Underdark for about a day. Our schedule
was pushed and now we are heading out in the midst of much hesitation.
I did not feel prepared to go yet; I felt as though I have not had
the opportunity to settle things on the surface. I feel most of
the party is hopeful, although a little grim, about going. The only
one whom I fear for is Lathanyel. He is a worshipper of the sunrise.
There is no sunrise down here, and so I fear for his sanity.
My thoughts have recently also turned to his sunrise god.
Mayhaps I will speak to Lathanyel. There are certainly worse things
to worship than the sunrise.
I am fairly concerned about one aspect of our mission into
the Underdark. We have placed our entire trust and safety in the
hands of Blackwolf. He is the only one familiar with this area.
I am very grateful to him for his trust in me upon my initial rescue,
but I fear he is a man with an obsession. Granted, I wish to destroy
drow while down here, but with him it is a passion. Early this morn,
he made us all get out of bed due to his zealousness. This is a
good quality during a fight, but what danger will he lead us into
so to fulfill this passion. I hope that I am wrong in my fears.
[Next entry]
We have traveled for a long ways and have had our first encounter
with drow. This has led to much careful consideration on my part.
We encountered a group, no more than twelve or sixteen, that consisted
of two lesser priestesses and the rest warriors. Even from the initial
round of the conflict, the conclusion seemed obvious; these drew
would be easily defeated. I leapt into the combat with the same
gusto as the rest of my comrades, wanting only to wade in the blood
of drow. During the encounter, I managed to take one captive, only
then being blinded by magical light from one of the priestesses.
I sat tight with the captive, planning to wring information from
him anyway that seemed necessary. Making sure that he could not
escape, I hamstrung him, only feeling contempt for his pain. This
is a being of pure evil, anything that I do to him is what he deserves,
or so I thought. The fight was over almost as soon as it began.
The party started cleaning up the aftermath and I found my sight
returning. I drew my blade preparing to cut off pieces so to make
him talk. Two things struck me at that moment. First of all, he
told us what we needed to know, namely that the tunnel led to their
complex. He did this without the need of inflicting pain or any
other form of coercion. The second wiped any thoughts of cruelty
from my mind. Along the sides of his face were the scars from the
snake headed whip. He was only a victim of his goddess. At that
moment, I felt a strange form of kinship with the drow. Each of
us is the victim of the goddess's cruelty.
This had made up my mind. I don’t believe that the drow are evil
by nature. Their dark goddess has such a stranglehold on their society
that she dictates how they behave. Or else. The snake headed whip.
Hadn't my dark mistress shown moments of genuine kindness, gentleness?
She is a priestess of this dark goddess, yet this goodness still
comes through. One day, I will take her from the Underdark, away
from this goddess of death, and bring her to the surface. To save
her.
[Next entry]
We have traveled long and seen much. The members of the party
who not previously see in the dark, myself included, have gained
this vision from a magic pool. Strange things have occurred there
from a magical explosion that was set off. It's hard for me to say,
I know so little of magic. All I do know is that I have become much
more aware of what is going on inside of me. Almost more in touch
with myself. It’s a complete sense of being.
Yesterday, we passed a toll bridge, controlled by duergar and
ogres (a strange combination). We negotiated for passage with some
of the wood we gained from the fight with the drow.
[Next entry]
This day, we have known success. The entire event has left me
weary of fighting. This morning (or afternoon, it’s hard to tell)
we came upon the abandoned duergar citadel. We cautiously entered,
fearing the worst. Once inside, the sight was truly awe inspiring.
There is a long line of buildings, a row on either side of the road
before us. At the end of the road, there is some sort of stronghold
that has a chain going from it to the ceiling. Beyond the stronghold,
is a palace built into the side of the cavern. Initially, we were
very cautious. I myself held serious reservations as to whether
this was the right place. The cavern reeked of age. Later we found
that it reeked of evil. The further we went, the more confidence
we gained. We explored the first stronghold, but found little of
interest. Finally, we got to the palace. Before us were a pair of
mithral doors. Deciding on the direct approach, we opted to use
a spell to open the doors. Rather than the doors opening, the entire
side of the palace swung open. What lay within brought fear to all.
An army of undead awaited before us. We decided to immediately retreat
back to the stronghold, so to fortify our position. The rest of
the day was spent dispatching the undead with magic and force of
arms, mostly magic. Once the most powerful undead were slain, I
believe they were mummies, the lesser undead ceased to function.
The rest of the day was spent destroying skeletons and zombies.
I have never been so weary as when I helped destroy two hundred
skeletons. Once the undead were destroyed, it was an easy matter
to find and recover the forge. The forge ended up being fairly light
in the hands of Laeretes and Kraegan. Now that we have the forge,
my thoughts turn to leaving this wretched place. Hopefully I will
never return, but I really doubt that this is my last foray into
the Underdark.
[Next entry]
It has been long since I have last written. We have traveled for
at least a ride, and yet we have encountered nothing. As I mentioned
earlier, this new insight into myself has allowed for some strange
new circumstances. I have found that there is an "energy"
within myself that I am now beginning to learn how to manipulate.
I am able to pull it all together in one spot in my body, providing
a warm sensation, or disperse it throughout my body, leaving my
finger tingling. This is strange, but I think I will pursue it.
[Next entry]
I am so angry. We neared the surface of the Underdark, finally
entering the deep gnome city. We were just discussing what our plans
were when we got to the surface, when disaster struck. This disaster
came in the form of the malicious being only called Monkey. I think
he may be some sort of divine being, Ken-ji refers to him most reverently.
He took us from our friends and placed us back into Ken-ji's homeland.
Apparently there was some sort of evil that needed to be destroyed.
I seriously question whether we fought the true evil, or if this
monkey is indeed the evil. He acts much the same way and desires
the same sort of loyalty that Lolth does. I really am not sure what
to think.
We moved into a temple or some such building, told that we would
need to dispose of its inhabitants. Apparently the ruler of the
temple is an evil man, needing to be killed. I have very little
to say about our exploit into the temple. We killed a number of
human beings, most of which were not nearly our skill level. It
was a brutal slaughter. The individuals fought as though mad, and
would not accept terms of surrender. So much blood was spilled and
it was completely unnecessary. The only opponents I did not grieve
their deaths were some demons we fought and a mage whose spells
were fairly detrimental to me. We worked our way through the masses
as a farmer scything through wheat. In the last room, we met the
master of the estate. In that battle, Kraegan was killed. I only
had a second to grieve his falling, as a series of vicious blows
were aimed my direction by our foe. When all hope seemed to be lost,
the man was finally killed. Apparently this entire fight needed
to occur for some fool’s honor. I do not understand the land, do
not care for the land, and hate its god. I was very relieved when
we were returned back to our temporary home. Here I will look into
these new developments I have found in myself. Never again will
I be involved in one of these senseless slaughters. Never again
will my blade harvest human lives.
[Next entry]
It has been several months since last I wrote. I have discovered
a power within myself that no other that I have spoken to has or
knows anything about. Our time in Ken-ji’s homeland was not completely
wasted on me. One thing I noticed there was how the fighters were
able accomplish things beyond what that they may normally be able
to do. Ken-ji has spoken of this power and has referred to it as
ki. I believe that I am now tapping into something not unlike ki.
Where these martial arts attempt to train the body to such intensities
that the power of the mind is focused, I have learned to focus the
powers of the mind and body to perform feats that have previously
only been able to be accomplished by magic. These include manipulating
and moving things at a distance, without ever touching the object.
When using these powers, I draw the energy from all over my body,
harnessing it with the will. I focus it to one central locale, creating
a very warm spot in my body. I then unleash the power from that
spot in controlled bursts attempting for specific results. I don’t
always control it the way I wish, and sometimes nothing happens.
I'm still a long ways from mastery, but I feel the potential of
this kind of power is vast. I am unsure what sorts of ways this
power will manifest.
In the pursuit of this new learning, I have decided to forsake
my blades. One day, when I feel ready to handle the responsibility
that lies with the blades, I will again take them up, but not now.
I am going to pursue my interest in the smoke powder weapons, though.
Not real efficient as of yet, but I feel that they, like the power
I’m working with, have great potential.
Until the day that I again swing a sword, I will only practice
what I am now referring to as my "z’hind wand zhaunil". As its potential
grows, perhaps "velkyn velve" will be more appropriate, but right
now I would like to think of it as a less deadly pursuit than swordsmanship.
Perhaps one day, I to will open a school of learning for this power
so to spread its beauty and control the danger it might inflict.
Its potential z’ress could become a danger to others, and in the
wrong hands could be worse than any blade. For this reason, I am
going to reserve myself from teaching of it until I have a greater
idea of what the potential of it is.
[Next entry]
Since last I wrote, much has happened. The flying ship that we
have started to use has been shot down, and once again we find ourselves
afoot. Apparently we have made yet another enemy, no surprise there.
Whether this foe will prove to be more dangerous than previous opponents
is yet to be seen. This is fairly irrelevant from where I now stand.
During the course of our adventures, we have once again
found ourselves in the Underdark. I find it simply amazing that
I so deftly attempt to remove myself from that place, only to find
myself back in the heart of it. Our dealings were not just with
the Underdark in general, but Menzoberranzen in specific. We became
entangled in an entire house war within the city, and most likely
yet more enemies. These two were fairly major events, but once again,
fairly superficial in nature.
The heart of the matter lies in the players of this game.
I found myself yet again a pawn in the overall picture. On the black
side of the board, opposing myself as a pawn herself, was Pharius.
Our initial meeting was not what I had envisioned for us; opposite
sides of the battlefield. I have difficulty fathoming why fate is
so fickle as to place us at odds. It was fairly obvious to me that
she was but a pawn similar to myself, no more willing or desiring
of what she was doing. It will be extremely difficult to ever take
her from there if this oppositional side thing continues.
Considering the analogy of the game, then who are the players
on the black side? Obviously Lolth is both king and queen on this
side, or is there a black king? As far as the game I'm involved
in, Jarlaxel and Uthengentel are obviously knights and the matron
mother of Barrison Del' Armgo a bishop. Pharius is but a pawn similar
to myself. It does bother me who the other pieces may be. The grander
question is which side of the board am I playing on? I have considered
myself on the "white" side, but am I? I came from darkness
and it seems that I am tied to it, as it becomes a recurring theme.
Even if I’m not an official piece, what of my ties to Pharius? Could
I become an unwilling piece of the game, perhaps playing for the
side that I have no desire to support. The black side of the board
is very alluring and provocative, especially with the lure of my
beloved.
More interesting yet, who are the players of the white side? It is fairly
evident that the company I have allied myself with are pawns. Recent
developments make me wonder if Laeretes is a knight or more. I found
it rather unsettling how drow perceived him as one of their own.
I initially thought Blackwolf was a player, which he is, but of
a different game. I really don’t feel that he is part of this game.
Who are the power pieces behind us? I find this lack of as disturbing
as not knowing the pieces on the black side. I’m still left with
the question, where does this leave me? I could easily become a
player for either side. I want to be part of the forces for good,
yet I feel drawn by the seduction of the dark.
I feel this leaves me at the point of deciding how to extract
myself and Pharius from this game. This is not a simple matter of
merely going into the Underdark and removing her from it. Those
twisted caverns, as well as people, are the only home that she has
ever had. Furthermore, I have the power of the dark goddess to overcome.
This leads me to two possibilities. First, I could gather together
a group of the most capable and inspired heroes to go and do battle
with Lolth. Unlikely at best. The second possibility I see as the
more possible. I need to convince and then convert Pharius from
her dark goddess. No small task unto itself, but a better possibility
than attempting to destroy a demoness.
I have spent much too much time submerged in the drow culture
to not know how they think and how to think as they do. One aspect
I have found of myself is that I seem to be more drow than human,
at least more so than most humans I’ve come across. Just as I have
been seduced by power, Pharius too has been seduced. I but need
to show her that greater power may be achieved someplace else. I
feel that this is even a possibility based on the very tenants of
the religion of Lolth. Her priestesses do not adore their goddess,
but worship her for the power that she may impart upon them. This
is not unlike most religions I have come across so far, except it
seems that most priestesses of Lolth do not even like or care for
their goddess.
Smokepowder has really become, I feel, the cutting edge
of weapon technology. It has become the great equalizer. The mightiest
knight in his full plate armor is no more protected from a shot
from a smoke powder weapon than an unarmored man. These weapons
are indeed a definite force to contend with. It seems that few if
any have attempted to sell smoke powder weapons to those denizens
of the Underdark, based on the reaction from Jarlaxel. Perhaps it
is now time for the Underdark to become one with the times, catch
up with technology. I do intend to sell these weapons to this mercenary,
but for purposes that I am sure he does not expect. I feel that
the lighter weapons, such as belt pistols, will quickly become in
high demand. Smoke powder will always be valued high. I will sell
these weapons to him, but only so he becomes dependent on their
use.
The family of Barrison Del’ Armgo has been the second family
much to long. Perhaps with the introduction of new weaponry, it
is time for them to contend for the number one position in the city.
My proposition is this. I provide smoke powder to Jarlaxel and his
company of mercenaries become dependent on it for combat. I then
make a member of the family of Barrison Del' Armgo my middle person,
Pharius perhaps. With the power over the mercenary troop as to whether
he receives smoke powder or not, they will be able to gain his loyalty,
with a sizeable payment from an outside beneficiary of course. With
this additional force to add to their already sizeable army, Barrison
Del' Armgo will be able to give house Baenre a run for their money.
Whichever family wins is inconsequential. Both will be grievously
injured, much as a recent occurrence has shown me is often the result
of inter-house conflict, and it will fall (perhaps a family with
an outside supporter will attempt to crush them both). In the meanwhile,
Pharius will have no other place to turn, and at this point I will
have shown her what the surface world will have to offer. An additional
enticement of my own power may also be able to draw her from her
Underdark home. The ability of mystic power over another whom most
spells melt off of is a strong enticement for most. Through one
act, a major evil will be crushed and my beloved will be saved from
that which may have eventually destroyed her. As previously stated,
I really do not feel that drow are inherently evil.
I have been noticing many similarities between surface
elves and drow. There really is very little difference between them,
other than the drow have been misled by this evil called Lolth.
I do feel that elves, in general, are somewhat assured of their
"superiority" over other races. Even the noble elvish
ranger in our group and this new elf who has joined us exhibit this
same arrogance of genetic superiority over other races. I do not
feel that they are evil, or even bad. I do feel that they are somewhat
misled by what they consider their "benefits". The ability to see
in the dark and an extended lifespan are highly overrated. The ability
to see in the dark is an excellent talent for any adventurer, but
what happens when one doesn’t fear darkness? In an extreme case,
the drow, they have made darkness a part of their religion and their
fundamental beliefs. They are steeped in darkness and even the light
hurts them. Even surface elves exhibit more pain than what is normal
for humans, when a light is suddenly brought on. I find this tie
to darkness rather frightening. The extended lifespan is a true
mockery of what they hold true. Surface elves claim to worship life
and revel in it. Can they really revel in and appreciate life when
the presence of death is so far away? They never have the sensation
of living life to the fullest, for death is but a heartbeat away.
In these ways, drow and surface elves are very much alike. Upon
reflection, I pity the race. They reside in arrogance and a belief
of natural superiority. As far as some qualities are concerned,
they may be right. In actuality, I feel that they grasp for something
all of their lives that they never will truly understand.
[Final entry]
MY LADY PHARIUS,
I fear that our first meeting since my untimely departure was
not as it should have been. I feel that perhaps a number of things
should be explained. First and foremost, I did not leave of my own
accord. My departure was facilitated by an interested third party,
one whose past interests in me were fairly hostile. I was abducted
and sold into slavery. I have since escaped and have seen much on
the surface.
First, I must tell you of the power I have found. Through
time and much self contemplation, as well as due to partly an accident,
I have discovered a power the like of which I have never seen. It
is power derived from within and may affect the external world.
I am afraid that I was responsible for the scalding burn on your
lovely flesh. At that point, I had not realized whom I faced. This
power is not turned away as magic usually is when it comes into
contact with drow flesh. It allows me to travel the planes as easily
as you walk the streets. It allows me to manipulate things at a
distance as easily as you pickup a dagger. I have unlocked the secret
to a power that can not be denied.
Secondly, the surface world has so much more to offer than the
Underdark. There are other races and their developments. I have
come upon smoke powder. This allows you to hurl a bit of metal with
such force that it ignores armor. I have come upon weapons of extraordinary
quality and power. I have seen sights the like of which would cause
your head to spin.
I do not propose that you leave your home, but I would
like a chance to show you what the surface world has to offer. I
am willing to bring you gifts of the surface world. I also wish
to show you, perhaps teach you, this power that I have discovered.
Most of all, I wish to apologize to you for any harm I may have
caused you. I will get in contact with you, as my power now allows,
and establish a mutually viable meeting setting.
In the meanwhile, take care and I will see you soon.
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