"Aieee! A drow!" Was heard.
"Foul demon elf!" Another cry came.
Viconia deVir had heard it all, she sighed and cursed herself again for accidentally allowing her hood to raise a little, showing her dark skin and revealing herself to the people of Trademeet as a drow. Not a good thing considering the evil elf reputation.
Though Viconia hardly considered herself to be the 'good' sort of elf, this constant chasing out of villages, cities or wherever she went was getting rather tiresome.
She broke into a run as the pitchfork-wielding villagers emerged from their homes, carrying torches and illuminating their disgusted faces upon seeing the drow.
It was always the same. The women fearful and the men vengeful.
Viconia ran for a few minutes and finally settled to rest behind a low wall, hoping the villagers would think they chased her off.
"Scum." She whispered quietly to herself as she collected her thoughts. She knew she could take the foolish humans easily. She had fought far worse beings than that. She scoffed at the notion of being overrun by angry villagers, but silently she felt frustrated. Angry at the world.
Since leaving the underdark she had endured many trials and many tests of her patience. She had scarcely found any place she could call her own, the racist prejudice of Amn driving her away from many communities. Except one.
She allowed herself to think of Archon, her warrior. Her abil. The two had shared a rocky, rough 'intimate' relationship. Viconia enjoyed tormenting and teasing the son of a god. She smirked cruelly when she thought of the times she had spent disturbing the frail human.
Hearing angry voices, Viconia stood and stalked away into the night and further from the scene, distancing herself from the small village and staying away from any signs of light.
Since her adventuring group departed, along with it Archon, Viconia had moved from settlement to settlement, hoping to find any place to rest, any home that she could finally hang up her armor for the last time. She considered going back to the underworld, back to the homeplace of the drow, but she quickly regretted the thoughts, remembering the last time she ventured down with Archon, Minsc and the others. They did not leave on good terms and she knew she would be recognized and put to the most agonizing death imaginable. The drow had a way of making that happen.
Shuddering, and not just because of the cold, Viconia flicked to her infravison spectrum and watched the trees and village for any sign of more villagers. Satisfied that they had returned to their homes, Viconia began to lay a bedroll, convinced that they would not be able to see her sleep in the thick trees.
She still wore full armor, a choice which has proved useful many times since heading out on her own. There have been many who have seen the drow and tried to strike a stealthy back-stab. Needless to say, those would-be assassins are now quite dead.
"So you're a drow, eh?" A voice said
Startled, Viconia spun on the spot, turning to face a young man leaning quite casually against a tree, seeming to pay no interest to the cleric.
"Who are you?" Viconia asked firmly, her hand resting on her mace but making no move.
The handsome young man laughed and looked at the drow. "Name's William." He said cockily. "And I live just over there." He nodded over Viconia's shoulder towards Trademeet. "But the real question is." He continued, stepping forward. "Is who are you and what are you doing here?"
Viconia was impressed, she admitted. The young human held an aura of confidence that she liked, not that she would give him any satisfaction of letting him know.
"Hold your tongue, human worm." She said, scowling. "I am here because I choose to. No 'boy' is asking me questions about it either way." She was holding her mace threateningly.
William grinned and held his hands up in mock surrender. "I've never met a drow. Is it true what they say about you?"
"I can tear the skin from your bones in seconds, if that is what you mean, yes." Viconia said venomously.
"Actually" The man continued, stepping forward again, closer to Viconia. "That isn't what I mean."
Catching on, Viconia replied "Speak not to your betters, surface scum. You repulse me."
William drew a sword deftly and pointed it towards Viconia. "Does this please you, dark elf?"
Viconia considered the question. Truthfully, it did please her. She liked the boy's attitude. Drow are often eager to broaden their experience and teach lesser beings what it is to be superior. She adored crushing the souls of younger, eager, stupid men.
"Careful, surfacer" She stepped forward, moving his sword wide with the palm of her hand. "I have been known to kill greater species than you through my rather… obsessive methods"
With that she punched the young man, judging his reaction. Viconia often missed the ways of her homeland, like the customary breaking in of new pleasure slaves.
"The largest and strongest were the hardest to break" She said aloud, enjoying the sight of William's blood. "But they were the most rewarding. You will not enjoy this."
With a swift movement she roughly shoved the waiting man to the floor.
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Viconia awoke in a daze. The first thing she realized was she was standing up. She was suspended and tied to a wooden stake. With a groan, she realized what had happened. She had been captured to be executed.
Scowling, she turned to her audience who recoiled in horror. She had played this game before. When she had met Archon a second time, it was when he had saved her from a pyre in the middle of Athkatla's Government district. Looking around now, it didn't look like history would repeat itself. Her crime for both occasions was the simple fact of being a Drow.
She tugged vainly at her binds, then hesitated as she spotted William in the crowd, a merciless grin on his bruised and battered face.
Viconia could only imagine that the human had knocked her out, perhaps the following morning and dragged her back to trademeet for her 'trial'.
By the looks of things it was already over. She shouted curses in Drow tongue, shocking the audience and repulsing the speaker.
Her experience last night was less than satisfactory and she made no attempt to hide her displeasure to the boy, who as she recalled cried during the whole, unacceptable time. He had learnt that Drow were no fools.
She watched as oil was poured onto the pyre, some splashed on her and she cursed back angrily. This, it seemed was the end of her long life. She shrugged. She had no regrets, her only lament was that she should die by surface scum humans.
She thought of Archon, now a deity in the planes of godhood. She chuckled at the irony of her 'lesser abil' now a higher being than all of Faerun.
She heard William laugh and the audience jeer at the drow. "Look upon this foul beast!" They screamed.
Viconia did not hang her head low as they lit the torch and moved towards the pyre to set it alight. She would be as proud in death as she was in life.
The torch's smoke obscured her view, but before it stung her eyes she thought she made out a figure in the background, darting backwards and forwards between the trees near the village.
The torch came closer and her thoughts returned back to her life and of her death. With a realization, she finally and stubbornly admitted that she would miss Archon.