Journal of The Drow
Prolgue
My name is Auriken Dak'Tanion. And I am a drow. Well, more or less. I tend not to lean towards the side of evil, as most of my race do. Those that do are tempted by power and greed. Whilst I continue to exist simply because I find no point in laying down and dying. Whether it be by ill luck or a twist of fate, I became the Weapon Master of my house. That puts me in line for assassination attempts. While others of my kind see them as insults I see them as mere annoyances. For those that read this, keep these words in mind: Poison is overrated.
I have been the recipient of so many poison attempts my body is actually developing an immunity to them. But don't get me wrong. They have also tried stabbing me in the back, or sending denizens of the Underdark after me. They never succeeded since my blade always did the talking. But now that I think of it, a drow's blade does more talking throughout my entire race. If you want to kill someone you tell them with a blade or a dagger in the back. That is why a drow is always looking behind himself.
My house, it's ancient name is K'earathernabanaer, is the sixteenth house of Menzoberrenzan. Not much to be proud of, I assure you. My house insignia is a spider, with two swords across it, and an eye where the swords meet. Every noble shows their insignia to identify which house they belong to. Simple is it not? We all live in a world of darkness, where stealth and power prevail and even the most bravest of worries find themselves having nightmares if they actually live to tell of the Underdark.
The only sound you can hear away from the cities is the dripping of water, the only evidence to a trespasser that they haven't lost their sense of hearing altogether. Dark corridors meander throughout the dark realm in winding courses, connecting caverns great and small, with ceilings high and low. Mounds of stone as pointed as the teeth of a sleeping dragon leer down in silent threat or rise up to block the way of intruders. Predators of your nightmares are lurking around every corner, ready to devour you for no better reason than you were disturbing it's nap.
It matters not to me. As I have been trained, as have my "companions," to live, and yes, even thrive in such a harsh environment. I find it all amusing really. I stand upon the very gates of death each day and Lloth, our most powerful goddess, won't even grant me the pleasure of a challenge. If I sound arrogant then you have very keen ears, because I am arrogant. All drow are and that is what usually sends them to an early grave. But I do not foresee that in my future so fear not.
If there is one boon a drow has it is light. Spending all of our lives in almost pure blackness has it's side effects, sadly enough. Ahhh but enough of this twaddle. I have told you but the bear minimum about my kind, the drow. And as I go on you must be getting more questions than answers. My race is forever the enigma. But I shall shed some light on my race as I tell you how my life came to pass. But I do warn you, there is no heroes, there is forbidden romance, there is no justice. This is the story of my kind, a race who is feared throughout the realms. This is the Underdark.......