From the moment I was born, any hope of having a status higher than “low-blooded wretch” was doomed. Being a drow isn’t exactly an ideal situation and it certainly doesn’t win you points with people like being a high elf would. The people shout obscenities at you, accusing you of being a demon-worshipping miscreant bent on killing and enslaving surface-dwellers, sometimes threatening to kill you when you’ve done nothing but breathe in their vicinity. My curiosity towards this attitude often led me to ask Mother why everyone treats us this way, yet my questions would always go unanswered. I learned, soon enough, that this was decided generations ago, before even the greatest elders’ time.
My youngest years were peaceful, living in a fairly
My youngest years were peaceful, living in a fairly