Full disclaimer in next chapter but for now I don't own anybody from FR.
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Part One : Of Blood, Skin, and Spirit
When I hear the tales of the drow I wonder how such a society can survive. So dependent upon prejudice to keep their lives together. Drow teach their children to hate from the time they can first comprehend the word. They teach them to hate based on hypocrisy. The dark elves are not stupid creatures though. They teach hatred because that is all they have ever known from both the surface races and their own kin. Drow are individual survivors.
Drow of like minds survive together, as Bregan D'arthe does. Drow houses are a form of polite slavery, the males being submissive to the females, but in the event of a house war the males are usually the first to switch their allegiance once the battle starts to favor one side. The drow are not a race that survives together because the drow are a race bent on personal glory. They ally with each other when they must, but beyond that drow are individual survivors.
The goodly races see this as both selfish and wrong. Why then have they not massed together to destroy the evil elves?
They are too weak.
And I do not mean that surface dwellers are a physically weak people, an army of the goodly races would be formidable indeed. But they must realize that those that hate each other as the drow do can easily ban together should there rise an enemy more threatening than the drow ahead or behind in line. This, I believe, is how the drow have managed to exist. That and the fact that a force powerful enough to eliminate all the drow of the Underdark would require that all the goodly races ban together, from the most powerful sorcerers down to the beggars of Calimport.
That feat is not possible for the surface dwellers. We are a species too separated by prejudice. Elves and dwarves, for example, are complete opposites and therefor are wary of one another. Humans are likewise shunned by dwarves for being too soft for their tastes and many elves I have met have sneered at me because of my heritage, even gone so far as to condemn my half-elvin mother and my full-human father.
Menzoberranzan, Ched Nasad, and the other drow cities survive because of prejudice.
Prejudice is a powerful enemy and ally. To assume that your opponent will surely fall to you just because your opponent is an orc or a goblin is dangerous. Because orcs and goblins are presumed stupid, the higher races tend to assume that orcs and goblins can't win against them. I have watched many aspiring assassins die for such misleading pride and arrogance.
However, it is a double edged blade, prejudice. Say that I was the same person I am now but a goblin instead of mixed human and elf. Attackers would assume that I would be just another stupid goblin and attempt to kill me.
They would be dead within seconds.
The prejudice against the drow is similar. I have seen countless assassins who boast that they do not fear the black elves turn tail and run for their lives at the mere sight of a solitary drow. Likewise I have seen dark elves die at the hands of humans because they were arrogant enough to let their guard slip at the notion of fighting a non-drow.
When I listen to the tales of Drizzt Do'Urden I wonder how he obtained the courage to walk on the surface. Surely he must have known how the surface dwellers would see him. They would take one look at his white hair and ebony skin and either chase him away or attempt to kill him. Such is the nature of prejudice.
Yet he found friends to accept him. I admire his bravery in facing the prejudice of the surface people. It takes courage to forsake one's heritage. It takes even more courage to face another's unjust prejudice. To stand with your hands out before a group that would sooner kill you than learn your name requires hope. Assassins like me can't have hope or prejudice. Neither can get the job done.
We cannot afford to have friendships such as the kind Drizzt Do'Urden had either. And I use 'had' because my father tells me that Drizzt Do'Urden is dead and has been since long before I was born. When Jarlaxle tells me his stories, he hints that this is not entirely true.
I know not if my father is telling me a lie to keep me from challenging the renegade drow (a feat I have no desire to attempt) or if Jarlaxle is purposefully contradicting my father's words to teach me something. I have never known either to lie outright to me, but at the same time neither is known for telling the whole truth.
It would be a new experience for me to love someone, for I do not believe that there is anyone (outside the love a daughter has for her father) that I truly love. No. As I pen these thoughts I realize that is not entirely true either. I do feel a sense of love for my only friend outside my family. 'Friend' meaning the only one who has not yet turned against me. In some way I feel love for that swashbuckling drow who had a hand in raising me to be the assassin that I am today. I confess here that in some way I do love Jarlaxle.
I have wondered often how Jarlaxle would treat me had I been born to his race instead of my father's. Would he still have taught me the steps of his unique fighting style? Would he still have picked me up by the waist and spun me around when I was a little girl? Would he still have taught me how to dance when I was a blooming woman? How different would we be had I been born a drow? He would still be the cunning and devious mercenary that he is and I would be an unwilling servant of the Spider Queen. Unless I joined his band.
I wonder...
Would he have still loved me as I know he does had I been born with white hair and black skin?
Then again, he and I are creatures of the shadows. Our kind is not meant to love. We are only meant to hate and kill. That is the only reason we exist. Jarlaxle and I cannot love eachother. Or can we?
What do I know. I am but a girl of seventeen.
What can I know of love?
- Lazuli Entreri
Mirror Me Dark
By Semdai Bloodquill
Part One : Of Blood, Skin, and Spirit
When I hear the tales of the drow I wonder how such a society can survive. So dependent upon prejudice to keep their lives together. Drow teach their children to hate from the time they can first comprehend the word. They teach them to hate based on hypocrisy. The dark elves are not stupid creatures though. They teach hatred because that is all they have ever known from both the surface races and their own kin. Drow are individual survivors.
Drow of like minds survive together, as Bregan D'arthe does. Drow houses are a form of polite slavery, the males being submissive to the females, but in the event of a house war the males are usually the first to switch their allegiance once the battle starts to favor one side. The drow are not a race that survives together because the drow are a race bent on personal glory. They ally with each other when they must, but beyond that drow are individual survivors.
The goodly races see this as both selfish and wrong. Why then have they not massed together to destroy the evil elves?
They are too weak.
And I do not mean that surface dwellers are a physically weak people, an army of the goodly races would be formidable indeed. But they must realize that those that hate each other as the drow do can easily ban together should there rise an enemy more threatening than the drow ahead or behind in line. This, I believe, is how the drow have managed to exist. That and the fact that a force powerful enough to eliminate all the drow of the Underdark would require that all the goodly races ban together, from the most powerful sorcerers down to the beggars of Calimport.
That feat is not possible for the surface dwellers. We are a species too separated by prejudice. Elves and dwarves, for example, are complete opposites and therefor are wary of one another. Humans are likewise shunned by dwarves for being too soft for their tastes and many elves I have met have sneered at me because of my heritage, even gone so far as to condemn my half-elvin mother and my full-human father.
Menzoberranzan, Ched Nasad, and the other drow cities survive because of prejudice.
Prejudice is a powerful enemy and ally. To assume that your opponent will surely fall to you just because your opponent is an orc or a goblin is dangerous. Because orcs and goblins are presumed stupid, the higher races tend to assume that orcs and goblins can't win against them. I have watched many aspiring assassins die for such misleading pride and arrogance.
However, it is a double edged blade, prejudice. Say that I was the same person I am now but a goblin instead of mixed human and elf. Attackers would assume that I would be just another stupid goblin and attempt to kill me.
They would be dead within seconds.
The prejudice against the drow is similar. I have seen countless assassins who boast that they do not fear the black elves turn tail and run for their lives at the mere sight of a solitary drow. Likewise I have seen dark elves die at the hands of humans because they were arrogant enough to let their guard slip at the notion of fighting a non-drow.
When I listen to the tales of Drizzt Do'Urden I wonder how he obtained the courage to walk on the surface. Surely he must have known how the surface dwellers would see him. They would take one look at his white hair and ebony skin and either chase him away or attempt to kill him. Such is the nature of prejudice.
Yet he found friends to accept him. I admire his bravery in facing the prejudice of the surface people. It takes courage to forsake one's heritage. It takes even more courage to face another's unjust prejudice. To stand with your hands out before a group that would sooner kill you than learn your name requires hope. Assassins like me can't have hope or prejudice. Neither can get the job done.
We cannot afford to have friendships such as the kind Drizzt Do'Urden had either. And I use 'had' because my father tells me that Drizzt Do'Urden is dead and has been since long before I was born. When Jarlaxle tells me his stories, he hints that this is not entirely true.
I know not if my father is telling me a lie to keep me from challenging the renegade drow (a feat I have no desire to attempt) or if Jarlaxle is purposefully contradicting my father's words to teach me something. I have never known either to lie outright to me, but at the same time neither is known for telling the whole truth.
It would be a new experience for me to love someone, for I do not believe that there is anyone (outside the love a daughter has for her father) that I truly love. No. As I pen these thoughts I realize that is not entirely true either. I do feel a sense of love for my only friend outside my family. 'Friend' meaning the only one who has not yet turned against me. In some way I feel love for that swashbuckling drow who had a hand in raising me to be the assassin that I am today. I confess here that in some way I do love Jarlaxle.
I have wondered often how Jarlaxle would treat me had I been born to his race instead of my father's. Would he still have taught me the steps of his unique fighting style? Would he still have picked me up by the waist and spun me around when I was a little girl? Would he still have taught me how to dance when I was a blooming woman? How different would we be had I been born a drow? He would still be the cunning and devious mercenary that he is and I would be an unwilling servant of the Spider Queen. Unless I joined his band.
I wonder...
Would he have still loved me as I know he does had I been born with white hair and black skin?
Then again, he and I are creatures of the shadows. Our kind is not meant to love. We are only meant to hate and kill. That is the only reason we exist. Jarlaxle and I cannot love eachother. Or can we?
What do I know. I am but a girl of seventeen.
What can I know of love?
- Lazuli Entreri