As the sun set, the drow set out from a hollow tree once more and began his travels. Over the past few days he had been leaving his shelter a little earlier in the evening and abandoning his trek to search for shelter closer to the sunrise. The difference seemed miniscule, almost too little to count for anything, but being so helpless in sunlight, he knew, was a vulnerability he could not afford.

On that odd thought, the drow considered again his predicament. Weaponless, with no supplies, nor any sense of where exactly he was or where he was going, even if he could withstand the sun s light he would hardly be in an enviable position. That he had survived whatever had left him bereft of memory seemed remarkable enough. The drow wondered to himself what would have left him weaponless but alive. Going by how strange it felt not to have weapons, the drow knew that at one time he must have carried them daily.

These thoughts and speculations on where he traveled filled his mind as he traveled, many of them much darker than the drow wished. Try as he might to explain it, he could come up with no innocent reason that he would be here on the surface world and his thoughts wandered to darker fears. Despite this, the drow stayed alert; an action that saved him from complete catastrophe.

The drow s thoughts scattered as he heard the sound of a branch snapping not so far away and the sound of voices. He stopped moving, almost stopped breathing as the voices seemed to get closer to him. Ahead, he could see a clearing through the vegetation. No doubt, the travelers were heading and past there. With that in mind, the drow moved further back behind a tangle of brush and waited.

The group was in view soon enough, a party of four humans accompanied by a dwarf and a surface elf. The humans carried torches, and their glow encompassed both the party and their immediate surroundings. Silently, the drow sank lower to the ground, not wanting to give these travelers any chance to find him. Each was armed, and armed well. He knew that with no armor or weapons he would be an easy target for them. Still, as long as they did not seem to see him, he should be safe enough.

The dwarf seemed more intent on the trail ahead than in looking for hidden adversaries and the humans seemed more intent on the path, and in their own conversation, which was in a tongue that he could not understand. However, the elf seemed alert to his surroundings. As if his thoughts had been a cue, the surface elf looked in his direction. Their eyes met. Chaos followed.

The elf shouted something to his companions then drew his bow and fired an arrow. The drow reeled, crying out at the sudden pain. He rose to his feet as another arrow came by him, this one barely missing. At the same time the humans and the dwarf came charging through the underbrush.

The drow ran, taking the charging party in a zigzag route through the forest in an attempt to shake them off. Unencumbered and desperate as he was, he outran them easily. He heard more sharp words in a foreign tongue, but did not bother to slow. His shoulder throbbed, and blood ran freely down his arm but he knew better than to stop to dress his injury until he was safely away. He had no doubts that, given another chance to hit him, the surface elf would not miss.

Once he got far enough away to chance it, he scrambled up a tree, moving from branch to thick branch to break any trail that he might have left on the ground. With full night coming quickly he doubted that the group would be able to follow his path for long, but he saw no reason to give them any help in finding him. It was clear enough what the result of a further meeting with this group would be. He stopped, finally, by a clear running stream and climbed down from the trees slowly. He gritted his teeth as he pulled the arrow out, then tore off a section of his pants and wrapped it tightly about his arm to staunch the flow of blood.

For a long time after that he sat, staring down into the swiftly running water and wondering if all encounters with those of the surface world were destined to end this way.

~

Iria and Erris sat out under the stars, watching as the last of the revelry for the night ended. Having already shared the most pressing news of their lives, they merely sat together, enjoying the silence and the peace.

It was this peacefulness that often gave the village an appearance of timelessness. The village was a haven, Iria knew. In a world that was often turbulent and fraught with troubles, she knew that she could always return to it and expect to find that little had changed, year after year. Of course, it was also this sameness that routinely drove her away from the village in order to sate her wanderlust.

Erris had advised her to either forget her dream or to take it to mean that indeed, her goddess would soon have a mission for her, though he doubted very much that it would have anything to do with a drow.

The drow are evil creatures by nature, He reminded her, though she had been the one who taught him that. The drow have proven what they are time and time again. You yourself have fought against them, and have seen their cruelty. You know as well, if not better than I that they have no compassion, loyalty, nor anything other than hatred and anger. They are completely, inescapably, evil.

Iria had to agree, as little as she wanted to. Still, the face of the drow from her dreams remained with her. He had seemed so alone.

~

The sun rose and the drow found a place to rest for the day, this time in the well-shaded branches of a tree. Despite his worries about being followed, there was no other way he could spend his hours while the sun was high.

He slept through the day again and continued on his travels, still not sure of where exactly he was going to. Before he had met the elf and his companions he had been going in a fairly straight path, but in escaping them he had lost track of where he was. For the past two days he had been following the sun but now he was not certain that was the safest course.

The drow paused in thought for a long moment, considering his route. Perhaps it was because of some unknown god s favor, or merely because his senses were keener, but he heard the sounds of activity and found a place to hide long before the traveler, another elf, came into view. This time he managed to spot the elf yet not be found in return. At first he feared that this was the same elf that he had come across the night before, but this one had a copper tint to his skin as opposed to the pale white that he remembered and his hair was black rather than red. Before the drow had a chance to heave a sigh of relief the elf disappeared, taking a route through the trees. The drow remained motionless for a few long minutes, then nearly jumped when the slight crackle of brush announced that another was nearing. Another elf passed without a second glance at the drow, apparently taking the same path as the one before her. After a moment of hesitation, the drow decided to follow the two and see where they were going. Cautiously, the drow followed at a distance, keeping well away from the pair. He had no doubt that the elves were more than proficient with the bows that they carried, and he did not wish to repeat his experience from the night before.

The second elf caught up with the first soon enough and the two began talking in what the drow could only assume was their native tongue. What they were saying he couldn t be sure but by their postures and tones they seemed to be quite at home. While he could not see them well enough to be sure of their ages, to the drow they seemed very young. Old enough to be posted as sentries, but young enough not to have seen enough evil to believe that it could sneak up on them unawares. He envied their sense of security.

The two had not been talking long before another set of two elves appeared and exchanged greetings. The first set of two then started off in the direction opposite to where he was watching, and the second two parted ways, one going to the right and one going to the left.

He waited until he was sure the elves were gone, then moved away as rapidly as he dared. It was only after he was certain that he was well out of the range of the elves sight and arrows that he stopped to consider his course. The elves had to be patrolling the area in an attempt to ward against outsiders attacking their home. Unlike drow, elves tended to be much more unified when it came to community and guarded it as a whole regularly, rather than merely when it proved to be more convenient to do so. Somehow he also knew that the surface elves were very cautious about guarding the area they called home and that they often set patrols around their homes in order to keep intruders out.

Of course, if one wished to attack the settlement it was easiest to disable or kill the sentries first. The typical drow hand-crossbow, with darts that forced enemies to sleep were most effective. Their potency weakened if they were exposed to the sunlight for too long, but as most drow raids only took place over the span of one night, this was rarely an issue. Of course, to avoid the sentries altogether, it was best if one attacked during one of their holy days. It was then that they would be most unaware, and most defenseless

He froze, as stricken as he would have been had the sentries fired an arrow into his heart at that moment. Where had that knowledge come from? How would he know such things? Did he ?

The drow moaned and sank to his knees in the forest.

What have these hands done? he said aloud, why is it that I cannot remember my name or where I am from but I can remember how to destroy an elven village?

Dogged by confusion and guilt, he walked on until dawn, though he stayed awake, staring at the sun and welcoming the pain it brought for a long time after that, tormented by questions of what he had done and afraid of what his dreams would reveal to him.