Forgotten Cry
-Prelude-
I remember well the days I used to roam the world freely. I remember the Light Above and the Underdark. Sometimes I forget which I remember most. The latter part of my life involved me being on the Surfaceworld, but I was raised in the Underdark.
Centuries ago, my life was different. Actually, to be more precise, centuries ago I actually had a life.
I could breathe and walk and eat back then. Now I had little need to do any of those.
My purpose now was to protect. Long ago I used to know what I protected, but that knowledge has been lost in time.
I was well in favor of the deity I served. Only to her did I listen, for that was the only secure path to success I knew. I knew I would not be led astray, although teachings involving this particular goddess always warned of her ways.
I admired her, the deity, for what she was, true. But moreover for the power she held within her fist. She was a dangerous sort, I recall.
I wanted her power.
Deep down I know she must have read my mind on several occasions and discovered my main plot. She must have been pleased with my thoughts, or at least found enough amusement in them for her to decide to not kill me there and then.
I had almost succeeded in my plans, however. My goal would have been accomplished, too, had I not forgotten a simple rule all of my kind learns at a very young age.
Never leave your back unprotected.
In the final struggle, my life, as I once knew it, ended only after I unleashed a massive clerical spell that let loose disaster upon my enemies. To this day, I am unsure as to whether that incident decided my fate or if my afterlife had already been decided upon long before.
In a manner, my life is not over. My body may be gone, but my soul still lives on to serve my goddess' whims. Perhaps one day this life will end as well, but until that day comes I will wreak havoc upon the People of the Light Above.
I am banshee now.
Drow I once was.