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 Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2009 2:25 am
Well, at least Anon seemed to be a little more at ease than before, and that was a comfort as Mikaril, finding some of his sleepiness banished as the conversation continued, carefully eased himself up in the chair until he was sitting in a more proper position. "Hey, if you tried to say you knew what a priestess thought, then I would probably assume you were in league with one and not speak any more. It's refreshing to hear honesty like yours in a place like this. Sometimes I think telling the truth comes easier to us males just because we never had as much to lose as the priestesses and all of the other females."
He remained quiet as Anon spoke in defense of his Goddess, but couldn't resist speaking up the instant Anon stopped to take a breath. "What do you mean by 'we'? You're not a surface elf; you're a drow, like I am." His eyes widened suddenly in comprehension. "Do you mean you were born on the surface? How did you survive for so long? Oh, right, probably your Goddess." He spoke with doubt, but not scorn. "Yes, I have heard of our raiding parties and surface hunters, but there are others who go there just to trade goods; surely the percentages of both aren't that dramatically different." He nodded a little then, his eyes showing the first traces of anger. "It's just.....well.....I've seen the surface elves when they're here; a few of them, and they seem so....well, they act like not only are they not sorry for driving us down here, but that we can stay here and kill each other all off for all they care, when they know how half of us live in squalor and misery. And then they shout out about how good and pure and righteous they are when I know they have just as much hate for us as we do of them, even the little ones, and.....it seems like such a lie."
Mikaril sighed heavily and lowered his head into his open palm, arm propped up on one of his legs. "Then again, we're surrounded by lies, aren't we? It's a part of our world, or mine anyway, since I don't know what a surface life is like, except from what I've heard. I should be used to lies, but the worst kind are the ones that give hope. My sister loved those lies; she loved building hope and watching it get crushed. She did that to poor Kyil before we escaped; it nearly destroyed him." Fighting to keep his breathing steady and his voice unwavering, Mikaril tilted his head ever so slightly to fix Anon with one decidedly wet eye. "I've learned quite recently to mistrust words of hope, especially when it is given so freely. I had given up hope before we had escaped; I thought I was destined to spend eternity with Lolth, being pulled apart by her spider minions, because that's where the Lolth-worshipping males are destined to go when they die. It was only when I wasn't looking for hope when anything good started happening. And now.....you speak of hope, of another option, and it's frightening me, like a hopeful lie."
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Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2009 10:51 am
Szin could only half smile at Mikaril's words. He would not admitt it so soon in the conversation thatsometimes even he was a bit confused by the priestesses of his goddess. He susected that being able to commune with her might be what made it easier to understand her. But truthfully? He did not see the appeal in danceing naked in the snow. Inwardly Szin felt his spirits lift at his own mild humor, and he found it easier to address Mikaril in simple conversation. He would just think of this as a discussion, and not a conversion attempt or defense.
"My mother was from the Underdark. She escaped to the surface while I was still in her womb. So yes, I was born on the surface." He elaborated for Mikaril on his choice of the term 'we'. "It was not the Goddess who helped me survive though, it was the people there that found her. I am sure you can imagin a blind pregnant female who had no idea where she was going would not have survived long. But the priestess who had been guiding her had told her the way to a way-point. She struggled on her own at first, then later she found aid in the form of other elves. I was born only two months after she breached the surface."
It...seemed almost as if Mikaril was providing him with all the oportunities to point things out to him. Did he realize just how conflicted some of his words were? Perhaps it was just due to having them grilled into him since youth?
"Oh yes. I know of the traders that come to the surface. They bring strange plants, fish, and stone to trade for the things that can only be found up above. I think you may have contradicted yourself though. If we attacked indiscrimantly at the sight of a drow, then how is it that traders come and pass unharmed? Traders that can return with goods and tales of what they have seen or done? If we tried to kill them all wouldn't they return with little, or not return at all?" Szin's head tilted back, so he could rest it against the windowframe behind him. He could almost imagin that the dark ceiling above was just a clouded over sky if he tried hard enough. "The percentage of drow that go to the surface for the sake of raiding does overwhelm the percentage that come to trade goods. Of course, there have been occurances when a village has been slaughtered and drow are blamed for it. Such is the action of fear and ignorance. You blame those who you find easier to demonize, rather then admitting that a plauge or some wandering monsters could have taken the lives of those small towns. Drow are believed to be demonic creatures, what with the black skin and glowing red eyes. They know our kind will consort with demons, so they believe all drow do. Never mind the fact that humans can be said to do the same thing. Human children are told to be good and go to bed before dark or the evil drow will come and steal them away to be slaves or worse."
Anon closed his eyes a little, more to banish the images from his mind from his own confinement and enslavement of body and will. It would be best if he kept his own personal thoughts and feelings free of this conversation, as he had no desire to become engaged in a true argument. "Mikaril...the elves you have seen down here, are most likely ones who have seen nothing but cruelty and abuse. They did not come willingly, and they know they go to a terrible fate. Can you honestly expect them to be anything more then angry, bitter, and afraid? There is no telling what has been done to them just because of the color of their skin. They are like wounded animals, who see only pain and agony. They expect mistreatment from the moment they are dragged into the shadows. They have been taught that nearly all drow revel in this sort of lifestyle. That most drow love the act's of evil and indulge in it simply for the sake of vileness. You have been a prisoner yourself have you not? You know what to expect here though, we from the surface..." He had tried. Really he had. Szin opened his eyes and made a slight gesture with his fan towards the window as he did his best to control the waver in his voice.
"We don't treat our fellows like this. Sure, there are some elves who are mean spirited and cold. Sure there are even few of our brothers or sisters that fall from the goodly path. Thus is the fate of all mortal creatures. It is our choice to be good or evil. Just as there are some drow who are not so wicked and vile, there are some surface elves who are not all purity and kindness. All the same... To be dropped into a world like this, it makes our life above glow due to the heartsick realization we shall never see it again. We are lost in the darkness and surrounded by hands that would claw our very souls from our throats before letting us back up. Many can not see beyond that despair. Many never get the chance to see the underlying pain and suffering of ohter drow."
Szin returned his gaze to his battle fan and began to slowly open and close the folds of stiff silk. "I gave up hope not too long ago. I made my final prayer to the Great Lady and acceted that I was never going to be free. Then a thief stole into my captors room while she was away attending her prayers. After mistrusting him, he sparked a slight glow of hope by his actions. He unbound me and helped me to my feet. Gave me water and cloaked me in his garment. He even held my hand and led me blind and weak from my prison. I thought he was helping me. I thought that finally someone good had crossed my path and I was tearful wit relief. He pointed me down a tunnel and told me that if I followed it that it would lead me to the surface. I actually began to hope I would see the moon again and the stars and sun and trees and flowers. My heart grew more light and hopeful as I progressed up the tunnel." Szin's head shook a little, and he glanced thoughtfully at Mikaril. "But it was a lie. He freed me to give me false hope and sent me down a path thatwould have ended with me starving to death. Or worse. I was too weak to use my magical gifts, I could not summon light to see by, I could not defend myself against a monster. I gave up far more quickly this time then I had before. I lost my hope, but I kept walking on. A part of me wanted to still hope. Inside I still wanted that drow to have been kind and good and that somehow I had made a mistake in misjudgeing how long it would take to breach the surface. I was found by another drow in that tunnel and I just...I completely gave up. He offered me food and warmth and I told him to just do what he would with me. If he intended to kill me I would not fight, if he intended to sell me I would not resist. If he intended to abuse me I would submitt. I had no hope left, I had no strength left. He did none of those things though. He...took me to a safe place. Tended to me, fed me and gave me solace. He gave me fire and light to banish the darkness and grant me a sense of peace." Szin did not smile at Mikaril as he spoke, as he feared such a action would only set the other on edge. He did not want Mikaril to think he was luring him into a emotional trap of any sort by putting up the image of gentleness and friendliness. "Sometimes hope does not need to be felt first. Sometimes it is the side effect of the actions around you. You don't have to accept it or embrace it when it first presents itself to you. Sometimes it simply...happens...after all is said and done. I am not offering you a answer Mikaril. I...I am no cleric or paladin of the Goddess. I am just one of her followers. I can only tell you what I have learned, I can only share with you what I have personally experienced. I can't tell you that there is real hope you will find all the warmth and joy that I have in the surface. Each encounter is different for people. But I can tell you this...when I pray to my Goddess, I do not do so out of fear of her. I do not speak words of praise to her so others can hear me speak them. I do it because that is truely how I feel for her, and I know...that one day when I breath my last breath, I will waken in the fields of her afterlife. I will be surrounded by those who have honestly served her in their hearts and not just upon their lips. And there will be no pain, there will be no torment. There will be a peaceful place aglow in moonlight where I can be happy. Because I know she loves me and she values me for who I am inside."
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Posted: Mon Sep 07, 2009 3:54 pm
Mikaril hardly thought that he was setting himself up for such contradiction. Rather, he was thinking his arguements, if you could even call them that, quite sound. Like his host, he was not looking for an arguement of a heated religious debate. Perhaps a part of him was seeking to understand something that showed the promise of making more sense than the obvious hash of a religion he had been weaned on from the beginning. Then again, he could also be striving to prove that after so many mistakes he had made with such near-fatal consequences, there was something in his life that he had been right about, that he had done well to doggedly cling to.
Though he had never bore witness to a birthing, he had seen one or two drow females with child in the cities, and the thought of one stumbling about unprotected, unable to see, in a world full of new dangers and bloodthirsty elves was a sobering thought. He imagined himself with some injury, for that was probably the closest to the situation that a male could get: slow and labored in his movements, the ball of fire burning overhead and making his flesh shrivel with the heat, all manner of surface beasts tracing the scent of his sweat and blood in the hopes of making him a meal. And to top that off, the two-legged predators, in their own element, watching with cold and unfeeling eyes for the first sign of a stumble or a pause to rest. Though with what Anon had said, he would have had to dismiss the elves as the predators and instead making them the ones who would pull him to safety, bind his injuries and rub salve on his stinging eyes. What a repulsive thought!
Mikaril shrugged as they spoke of the traders. "Well, I always assumed they had the smarts to avoid most of the elves when they were up there, or passed themselves off as something else besides drow. I figured that if they could keep a mental inventory of every item they had to sell and purchase, then there was plenty of room for spells of subterfuge and protection." He shrugged his shoulders minutely. "Of course we consort with demons; what else would we consort with down here? I've never summoned one personally, but it's a part of this place, like the rocks and the buildings." He tried to remember seeing any human slaves when he had been in the slave district of Undrek'Thoz; he might have, but he couldn't have sworn it.
At the mention of elves and how they treated each other, he found himself a bit sullen. Of course the elves treated their own kind with respect, which he had to admit was more than what he could say for drow at times, but wasn't one of the tests of true good the way they treated others not of their kind? After all, goblins tended to help other goblins, the same with bugbears and servants in general. But if they were so good, why didn't they give every drow a chance; after all, it was the least they could do after driving them down there to begin with. Still, he found himself nodding at Anon as he leaned over to the left to rummage through their pile of supplies. "At least you admit that not all surface elves are good," he said as he rummaged through a sack and pulled out a water skin, "That is what bothers me the most is when they try to make it as though their entire race is pure, when I was raised on the story of how they drove us down here like a rothe herd, killing the ones too slow or young to keep up. I bet they don't even mention that in their history books. Makes me wonder how they explain our existance then."
He took a small drink before replacing the skin, making a quick mental note to make sure that all the skins had fresh water before they set off on the salt-filled Glimmersea, and returned his full attention to Anon's story. He found his heart going out to this drow; apparently he knew quite well what it was like to feel no hope and to have it stumble upon you anyway. He shook his head slightly at the words of the thief; there was no such thing as a single tunnel leading right to the surface, but Anon wouldn't have known that, being from the surface and all. He listened to the description of the surface, and found himself mouthing the word 'flowers' after Anon had said it. That seemed to him the only reason for even trying to catch a glimpse of that eye-searing world; to see flowers growing all around like musrooms in a cave, his roses filling every bush in sight and perfuming the air with their gentle aroma. He wondered what this unnamed thief had sought to gain by setting the poor man loose to wander about in the caves and die. Who knew; maybe just something to laugh about with his drinking buddies later that night. Profession-disgracing swine.
Rather than sensing any sort of emotional trap, Mikaril found himself picturing the day he had found Kyil in the streets, lost and alone, much the same way he imagined Anon had been. Was that how he had appeared to his friend that day; banishing the demons and replacing it with peace? It made him sound downright heroic. Mikaril shoved the thought away vehemently. I'm no hero; I'm a screw-up who leads his only friend into danger and couldn't even win the love of his own mother, much less a Goddess. What the Hell was I thinking??
He was getting to the point where Anon's words felt more like cuts. He could remember the last time he had prayed so earnestly to Lolth as a child: I know I'm just a male, but I swear, if you spare me from this, I'll serve you forever and ever!! How silent she had seemed when it became obvious that his frantic plea had gone unanswered. Every other time he had prayed, it had just been noise for the benefit of his sister and mother; his not being punished for his insincerety only seemed to enhance the silence. What was it like, he wondered, to have a deity actually answer you? He was beginning to think that it been a fluke after all, Anon coming across them at precisely the right time to save them; this Eilistraee didn't know him; why should she have taken any pains to have him and Kyil rescued? He belonged to Lolth, whether he liked it or not, and nice as this Goddess seemed, he doubted she would have the means to free him from such a bond. He found his hand unconsciously moving up to his ears, the stark reminder of how much (or little) he truly meant to anyone in the spirit world.
But the mention of an afterlife like the one Anon was describing seemed the greatest slice; so much seemed implied by it. He remembered a time when power and control had meant everything to him, because he had thought that that was all there was to be gained in life. But after meeting Kyil and leaning that all the power in the Underdark couldn't love you the way a friend does...he felt as though he would happily follow a Goddess with a third of Lolth's power if it meant acceptance and the promise of a life's end without pain and torment, more of what he had constantly in life. And yet.....this was a Goddess for the surface, not for those who crept around in the dark like he did. For the pure of heart, not those who robbed people blind and killed drow in bathhouses. Besides, her price seemed too high; go to the surface where the surface elves dwelled, and there was no way he would take Kyil to someplace so dangerous, especially after what just happened. He loved his friend fiercely, and no Goddess would replace him, no matter how tantalizing her afterlife seemed.
After Anon had finished, Mikaril spoke up. "I can't tell you if the thief who helped you had good intentions or not, but I can tell you that there is no one tunnel to the surface; the Underdark is a maze. So the next time someone tells you that, you will know better." He paused a bit before continuing. "Well.....I'm glad you found such happiness, and your afterlife sounds wonderful." He glanced over at Kyil's sleeping form. "But I have to stay here, with Kyil. The surface world just isn't......I can't......he's all I have left, and he comes first, before anything. Even if I ever wanted to go up there and.....seek something better, I can't risk it. I won't risk it." He felt the lump returning, and he reached over for the water skin, momentarily forgetting that he had put it back in the magical bag.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 5:18 pm
"Granted." Anon would agree with Mikaril's thoughts. "Disguiseing oneself to avoid adverse reactions or negative opinions is a trait that even I have had to use when traveling abroad. Sometimes just being a elf alone meets with prejudice. Not all humans look kindly upon our race, Dark skinned or light." Szin paused, as Mikaril would speak so easily of consorting with the dark spirited creatures. he could not help the pale twist of a smile that curled his lips. "In my village, and those around it. To consort with such evil creatures would not be tolerated. They are feared for their wickedness, and those that they believe to be in leauge with them are equally feared. I personally would not be able to trust someone who dealt with the damned denizines, simply out of fear of falling victim. Demons oft ask blood and soul prices after all. So for a society that deals so easily with such creatures..well... I am sure you can imagin many folk being paranoid."
Szin paused then as silence followed Mikaril's words for a moment. In the very dim light that Szin allowed to flicker from a thumbnail sized faeiry light, he thought that his expression looked rather pensive. When Mikaril began to speak again, Szin wanted to give a light and short laugh, and he nearly did so. It was amuseing to be thanked for something like that. It wasn't as if his people were all purity and rightousness. There was no thing as an absolute. Even Angels fell after all. But the sourness of Mikaril's following words, of history and such...That alone was enough to chase away that brief moment of humor. As Mikaril took a drink from his skein, Szin struggled to put together the right words. It bothered him to tell the truth. It bothered him to have someone believe so bitterly that what he shared was perhaps a lie.
"There are no absolutes." He decided to share his original thoughts as they did seem to sound right enough. "Even angels fall. Demons can ascended. The sun doesn't always shine, the dead don't always stay in their graves, and just because you add sugar to something that does not mean it will taste good." Szin tried to lighten the mood a little with his words though he personally did not feel the somberness abate much. "History is just that Mikaril. History. It happened , that much we can be certain of...but history is written by those who survived it, then it is changed by those who have listened to it. Some say that it is the victors who write history, but I disagree. Even the losers can write their own history. It is only those who have lived it that can tell us the truth of the past. Since we do not live in the past though, I prefer to focus on the present, as I am currently living in it. I can tell you honestly I have driven others away, but never any further then was neccessary and never was it done out of malice or hatred." Szin lifted his fan and spread the blades wide. He turned the weapon slowly, so he could admire the pretty silk stretched flat between the metal blades.
"I have sent kobolds and goblins away from villages that they had been threatening. I have chased a werewolf from a hollow in the woods for three days after it had attacked some humans who had merely been hunting to feed their families. I can proudly state that I have protected those who were unable to protect themselves, at the same time I can shamefully admitt I have failed others who were depending on me to save their lives. I have had innocent eyes turned to me in fear to lead them to safety, and seen that innocent light fade to deaths glaze. I can not tell you personally what transpired between our people in the past Mikaril. I know the history I have been taught, and I know there will be sour differences for certain. All I can see is that your people remain here, and my people remain above. The drow have made the Underdark theirs. For better or worse, your people can survive here where as mine will wither and die as surely as a leaf or flower petal would. In turn, we thrive above in a world that the drow do not favor. I mean, many who come to the surface do not find it favorable. Mother constantly feels chill and in the winter she laments the warmth of the caves beneath. At nights when the wind grows too strong she wakens from nightmares of being chased by terrible dark things howling for her. I could not comprehend her fears until I too had come to live down here. Now I understand her a bit better I think, and I pray that I will have the chance to return home to tell her she was right."
He felt a sourness on his tongue as he finished speaking, and his half blind eyes fell into his lap where he fingered the thin blades of his battle fan carefully. His gaze only lifted as Mikaril would begin to speak again, and his green eyes blinked with a obvious confusion at first. "What do you mean?" The words did not quite make sense to him. not until he realized that Mikaril was drawing a line of sorts. Elistraee above and lloth only below. "Ah...you think..No. Your a bit mistaken, I would never suggest that you travel to the surface on your own. You would need a guide to lead you and ensure your safety. I certainly couldn't provide that, lost as I am myself. If I suggested that you do that I would be doing the same as that other thief had. I do not doubt that you would be attacked and killed on the surface without someone with you to lead you on a safe path. In truth, I'd suggest you find a priestess of Elistraee who has come seeking to teach and convert a drow from the underdark, but they are not so easy to find, as they must hide themselves. It would be very difficult to find one, but that does not mean you can't pray to Elistraee on your own. She would listen if you call on her name in silence, there is no requirement to place your faith in her, save that you honestly mean it." Szin lifted his fan, and he waved it towards the ceiling, his head tilting back to gaze upwards as well. "It is how we feel in out hearts that Elistraee judges us by. She understands us if we are ignorant, she accepts us for who we are within. If you wish to pray to Her then just do so. Keep her in your heart and you are in her's, that is how it works. You need not leave the Underdark to become one of her faithful Mikaril. In truth you seem already one of her's you know. You care very much for your servant, which is more then many drow I have met down here."
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 6:56 pm
"Really?" Mikaril found himself genuinely surprised. "I thought all of the other races liked elves. Of course, I've heard things about humans, and they seem to be pretty.....temperamental." He found himself smiling a little, sad, twisted smile as his hand, not finding the water skin, once more began to slink up and tantalizingly stroke his fuzzy ears. "Some drow; not I, but some; consider demons to be honored and well respected. On the opposite end of the scale, I am told that many on the surface cherish unicorns, and if someone was found to be doing that here.....or if they had anything to do with the beasts.....I can imagine their fate would be similar to a demon-honoring person in your own world. But instead of merely feared, they would be punished to the highest degree." He was finding that stroking part of his ear between his thumb and forefinger actually felt a bit relaxing, and trying to pretend he had an itch, he kept it up as he spoke.
He found himself shrugging outwardly at Szin's spoken thoughts. "I suppose that can be true. After all, we were the losers all that long time ago, and we still have a history. I know none of the teachers like to admit it, but we really did lose that day. We gained this place, sure, but....I used to wonder with all the lies and tricks we play on each other, why there are still so many of us. I thought once that we just came from the rocks, like chunks of onyx being molded by Lolth. I had to add that last part, or else Dilayne would have whipped me for blasphemy." He stated it like a fact and without any self-pity, though he did feel a twang of sadness remembering that his mother was gone now, and he probably would never have a chance to know what it felt like to actually be loved by the being that birthed you.
He nodded soberly, remembering how as a thief, he always found himself living for the moment, the past becoming a dull, insignificant shadowy memory, and the future a wide open window, Beckoning him with the promise of what lay beyond if he had but to reach out and take it. Even when he found Kyil and began teaching him, he tried not to focus too much on the circumstances that brought him there (he still felt partially responsible anyway, as it pained him), but focused on bettering themselves then and there. But now, recently, the past had come back to bite them, and he would never forgive himself for the anguish he had brought upon his friend. Anon was right; the past was best left to itself, though it would be hard to forget the reason that had been drilled into his head day and night why their kind was forced to live underground like worms, eating fungus and dying of lungrot.
Mikaril's forehead wrinkled at Anon's confusion, and just as he was about to elaborate, the other drow seemed to understand. Or at least, he thought he did. The thought of him hunting down a priestess for any favor seemed a frightening and terrible thing; how could he possibly ask ANY female such a question?? Why hello there, are you an Eilistraee worshipper? Great, can you lead me to the surface? Obviously these females would be harder to find than a silver hair on a white-haired drow's head. And that would be if he wanted to go to the surface at all, while every fiber of his being was still crying out shrilly that it was a bad idea, that he would gain nothing, that this was all just another false hope, like the one of his mother ever truly loving him.
As Anon spoke of praying, Mikaril found himself pinching his ear instead of rubbing it, causing his eyes to tear up. He wanted to bring his fists up and cram them into his ears, blocking out the words. Didn't Anon understand? He couldn't pray to her; she was not his Goddess! Lolth had him in her grasp, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He still wasn't sure that Eilistraee would even bother with the likes of him. And yet..... He suddenly remembered the dream he had had back in House Torlyl, where he had been sheltered by drow in robes in a strange dwelling. Was it possible? Or, like his dream of his mother dying at the hands of his sister, would it just lead him into even more trouble?
He already seemed like one of hers? His features wrinkled into confusion again, but then he managed a small grin at Anon's words. "Kyil isn't my servant; he's my friend. He calls me master because I'm his teacher, sort of. He was.....cast out of his house with no means of survival, so I am teaching him thievery. In some ways, his skills are better than my own, but our strengths and weaknesses make up for each other. And thanks to my idiocy, I almost lost him, the one person who showed me that there's more to life than power down here. I feel so stupid...." He brought his hand down to look at the minute bit of white fuzz clinging to his fingers. Anon's words hurt worse than ever. She accepts us for who we are within...... He felt his eyes tearing up again, and all he could manage was a pained whisper. "I......can't...."
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Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2009 4:24 am
Szin's lips parted into a rather amused expression for a few short moments. "Yes. Humans are very emotionally chaotic creatures. You can't expect anything from them on a whole. One can be as different from all others around them as one color varies from another. You can't even judge them in accordance to how they live their lives. In a way they are more dangerouse then a drow you know. More or less you know what to expect of a drow. By that I mean to be wary. With a human you can never tell, some live in lies that would put some drow to shame. Some are more evil, some are more good. But they are all unique I suppose." Szin lifted the fan and slowly closed the blades. If he kept fiddling with them he was bound to accidently cut himself at this rate. With a bit of will, he slipped the weapon back into the waist of his dancers outfit.
"Nnn. No. I am afraid that is the furthest from the truth. That is why it is so dangerouse in fact for elves of our coloration. Even the fair skinned ones are not accepted so openly." Szin lifted his green eyes to look at Mikaril as he tried to explain. "Dwarves and elves have had a long standing fued of sorts. Oh, we get along well enough when working towards the same goals, but there is bitter blood there. Elves often look down on dwarves for their gruff and up front mannerisims, and Dwarves likewise look down on elves for our long patcience and rather...elegant mannerisims. I am sure there is a historical reason behind it, but for the most part it seems to be a clash of cultures. Humans are jealouse of we elves, for our beauty, grace, and skills. They envy us and desire us all the same. It's not too uncommon to hear of humans falling in love with our kind you know, but due to our common sense we know better then to encourage such fanciful thoughts. A humans lifespan is so short, they barely live longer then it takes for a child to grow and mature. Then any possible offspring brought fourth finds themselves in a world where no one will accept them. it's a terrible fate for a child. I believe gnomes may be the only race that accepts elves with no problem, but they are often so caught up in their fanciful thinking I doubt they would take the time to realize that there could be a reason not to get along with a elf. hose are the three main races of course, there are plenty others that live on the surface that all have their own reasons for discord. Personally...I think it is just the way of things. Even plants via with each other for soil and water, so it makes sense that the living breathing and moving organisims of the world would mimic even this simplistic nature."
Szin paused then, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I am sorry Mikaril. I keep getting sidetracked with my own thoughts. Though I think...my tangent still applies even to your observation. It is all about culture isn't it? We are all taught different things of what is and is not acceptable. You have learned that dealing with demons is part of the norm, so it does not unsettle you the way it does me. It terrifies me in truth. Demons are so evil and wicked, with ill intentions. Likewise, just as you may fear that of the unicorn you brought up, in my culture we honor and rever them. They are creatures of purity and goodness. They protect the pure of heart and children, they ally themselves against those who would bring dark evil to the world. They are known to be able to heal any ailment and provide protections against curses. I suppose, as they are as much a opposite of a demon as you can get on the mortal plane, it would make sense for your people to hate them. Don't be mistaken though in thinking that all creatures on the surface think this way." Szin lifted one hand and gestured gracefully. "Even some of my kind that have fallen to the darker path have been known to slay a unicorn for the sake of the magic they possess."
Szin's head shook slightly, though he did not argue the fact that Mikaril's people were the losers in the war. It was rather hard to even try to clump himself in with his own people, given the nature of his upbringing. He honestly saw himself as a surface elf, for as much proof as that may serve to Mikaril that those of drow descent were not doomed to the shadows for eternity.
"I wish I could provide you with some historical references Mikaril, not of elvan creation mind you. The dwarven scholars are well known for their vigilant determination to provide historically accurate accounts. I suspect that is part of the bad blood between us and them you know. A dwarf never pulls his punchs, so to speak. Of course, they are also known for being rather condensending of our culture, but given the choice I'd rather study history provided by a dwarf or a human if I were in a situation such as yours. I know that there was a time when we were not called drow. Did you know that? We were called Dark Elves, and our skin was not this dark a pigmentation. Supposedly it only became this black after the the start of the second Crown War. It is extremely difficult to find records of the Crown Wars though. I suspect my people are just extremely ashamed of them." Szin's lips curled upwards into a small trace of humor. "From what I have learned the Crown Warms make us seem almost human in nature, perhaps that is why?"
Szin's humored expression faded a little, and he found his attention drawn to the sleeping male on the bed. Kyil's features betrayed small wrinkles about his eyes and lips that led Szin to believe the male was either overly exhausted, or not sleeping well. perhaps a combination of both? He could not help but look over his style of dress and the obviusly well groomed nature of the male. Yes, he could believe that Kyil had been cast out and certainly lacked the common everyday skills that someone like Mikaril obviously held. Even Szin felt the bite of inadequacy at times, for which he was grateful for Lird's protective presence all the more. "That is very kind of you Mikaril. Most drow I have learned would not bother with teachhing someone else how to take care of themselves, or they would abuse the obvious helpless situation he is in. I believe he is in good hands, better then he could find elsewhere at least..." He paused to consider Mikaril's emotional lament. he sounded honestly upset. Szin lifted a hand to one of the hanging tendrils of lavender hair and he twirled it slowly around one of his fingers thoughtfully.
"Do not believe that Mikaril. If you accept that you can not do something, then you are only working against yourself. You have protected him well enough that I can see. He is here, unharmed physically. He sleeps deeply, in trust that he is safe here. you say your weaknesses and strengths play off each other. That means you have come to know him and yourself. You accept that you have a weakness and Kyil there can counter it. It is like...holding hands. If you both clasp each other's hands palm to elbow your grasp is always stronger right?" Szin gestured to where Kyil laid before continueing. "He is as healthy as one can expect and free with you. We all make mistakes. Mine has gotten men killed Mikaril. From where I sit, your mistakes are not half as serious as you may feel. You got him out alive and whole."
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Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2009 7:21 pm
For what it was worth, Mikaril found Anon's constant straying from the topic at hand a very welcomed distraction. He didn't want to hear any more of this Goddess and her promises, so convinced was he that he just couldn't belong in her fold, no matter what Anon said. He was a thief, a petty, selfish being who was ensnared within the web of his Goddess, much as he wanted to break free. Perhaps all he needed at the moment was a state of Goddess-less-ness, for lack of better words. Just a time where he could enjoy being free to do as he pleased without worrying about what any certain deity might think of him or punish him for doing what was wrong in their eyes. He still felt Lolth's grip upon him, still fairly fresh from his escape as a sacrifice to her, but perhaps someday he might find a way to weaken that grasp, in a way that DIDN'T involve going to the surface and playing nice with the rest of the world.
Anon's words of the unicorn saw Mikaril fidgeting in his seat. A demon's opposite....no wonder his kind hated them so. He realized just how little he really knew of the creature who's ears he shared. He was brought up knowing that it was a hated symbol among his kind, a harsh, blinding light against the shadows that would shelter and comfort his kind and sooth their sensitive eyes. He did know of their magical properties; he had heard Haellara on several occasions as a child begging her mother to find her a unicorn horn in the marketplace; she had been into all forms of magic and had been wanting each and every component she could get her hands on. He couldn't help but wonder at his fate if Haellara had actually succeeded with her spell all those decades ago. Would they have cut his horn and shorn off his mane before sacrificing him? Or would they have waited until he was slain, his strange, non-humanoid blood puddling on the cold stone altar and dripping onto the floor?
Shoving such unwelcome thoughts aside, Mikaril concentrated more on Anon's version of history. It had him pondering as he looked down at his own hand, black as an onyx stone, and he wondered what it was like to be merely dark instead of....this. It piqued his curiousity; would they have even then discovered a milder version of the night vision they were all destined to have? These Crown Wars interested him especially; what did the mighty, all-powerful elves have to hide from their own archives that was so shameful and damning? It was almost worth the risk of a surface world trip just to find THAT out. Surely it was something much more than their acting a bit like a race who only seemed to act the way they did because their lifespan was too short to stop and think things through like the longer-lived races.
He followed Anon's gaze to Kyil, who did appear to be sleeping, but still looking so drained and exhausted. He felt another little stab of guilt; how many times had his friend sacrificed his own sleep for his sake, from the box poison to the injuries from the rack? How much damage had been done, both physically and mentally, because he couldn't stand the thought of facing his own personal demons on his own? He nodded, somehow still registering Anon's words. "He saved me long ago from what could have been a terrible fate, and in so doing he taught me that a friendship not based solely on mutual gain CAN exist down here. He means more to me than anything in this whole world, including the surface above." He looked steadily at Kyil, envying him his sleep. "He's alive, but how whole he is remains to be seen. We may have to test the ability of our strengths and weaknesses playing off each other more than we ever have before. Right now, we just barely make up one whole drow, and we have such a long journey ahead of us....." Smiling wearily, Mikaril looked back over to Anon. "He sleeps deeply because of you too. I don't know if you believe whether or not you did the right thing in helping us, but I really hope that if not now then someday, you'll realize you did a very wonderful thing by sending those bugs."
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 1:46 pm
Szin saw the signs of unease in the fidgeting of Mikaril. If the ear twisting itself didn't give him any insight at the least. He supposed that what he was saying could not be easily understood or believed. Honestly, over time even he had begun to question his own memories. had it really been that wonderful up above, or was he making a diamond out of a piece of glass? Szin's lips parted for a moment into a small sad smile as Mikaril would speak about his friend. No servant that one, which in a way made him feel all the better about saving them. Mikaril had a grasp of friendship that Szin was certain a good many drow down here would never be able to understand. These pair were special...these were the ones the priestess of Elistraee often sought, of that he was certain. Well, he had imparted a bit of information to them so perhaps if they ever did get curious enough...well..who knew what the future held huh?
" You care for him so much... It makes me all the more grateful that I and my..bugs helped you escape." He could not resist the faint amused smile that came at the term of his summoned elemental creatures. "They are called Moth's by the way. They are nocturnal insects that have a strange weakness for light, they are often drawn to it despite the danger it presents in the darkness.. A little bit of surface world lore for you to carry with you I guess. But you must be as exhausted as your friend. Why do you nor sleep Mikaril? I will waken you if there is a problem, or when you ought to leave." His hand lifted to gesture towards the seated male, then moved to crack the window open again. "I'll keep watch for guards or Lird. Whomever may enter first. If you have a long journey ahead you should take advantage of this peaceful repose." He urged the other before falling silent. Lird...He hoped his friend would not be unhappy with him for allowing these strangers to come into their room, but surely he would understand. Sometimes fate just stepped in and requested something of you that you can not deny.
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2009 3:11 pm
His warmhearted discussion of Kyil had Mikaril feeling his eyelids growing heavy as his heart lightened a bit, as though the heaviness itself were switching places. Yes he had been stupid AGAIN and nearly gotten the both of them killed, but they were both alive, and they had proved that they were strong together, and he would see to it if it took every ounce of strength he had left, that they would see their cave again. They would return, recover, and begin their gang, like they had wanted. They would live their lives free of evil females and their desires to use them as they saw fit, and not have to worry about bringing the wrath of some vengeful, male-hating Goddess upon their heads. Still, he couldn't help but think a little on what Anon had said about this other Goddess, the one who loved instead of hated, and cherished males as much as she did females. It sounded too good to be true, like a scam put forth to ensnare the weak-minded. And yet Anon was a clear example that some of it seemed true; he had been to the surface and come here still alive and whole. He could even remember when he had been contemplating his death upon the rack; how he had hoped that Kyil's soul would be spotted by such a Goddess, and taken up to her instead of down into the hells where Lolth reigned. Well, if what Anon said was true, perhaps one of these hidden disciples of this Goddess would find Kyil, in spite of his having no desire to cast in his lot with any deity. The thought of his friend actually getting the peaceful afterlife he had imagined for him back then almost made him WANT to be found by one of those females.
Still keeping his eyes open in spite of their silent protest, he was intrigued by the thought of these insects that sought the light even though it held death for them. He would have thought that any drow who sought to reach the surface were much like these creatures; drawn to a promise of life that ended up with their own life being lost. Why then did they keep on seeking it? Did they not understand the dangers? Or were they, like so many others, clinging to a distant hope, a hope that the light might lead them to something wondrous instead of catching their tiny wings on fire and guttering merrily as it spiraled downward into the darkness? It seemed like such an enigmatic little insect, and Mikaril wanted to know more about them, but Anon's next words sank home, and he realized that he truly was tired. He needed to rest at least some if he was going to be any help whatsoever in making it out of the gates of Undrek'Thoz and back on the path that led out into the Wilds and back toward their home, their real home. Nodding quietly, he looked over at the slumbering Kyil, and decided that he would not risk waking him by climbing up onto the bed. Instead, he shifted himself quietly off of the chair and situated himself in the middle of their equiment, draping his cloak all around himself for a blanket and resting his head on one of the softer sacks. As soon as he had shut his eyes, he was asleep, and his dreams were mercifully quiet, with him sitting in a gigantic drow's hand and being hoisted slowly up towards a large, silvery disc hanging in an empty black void, shining down upon him and turning him and the hand to silver.
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