Subject Musings

You drift through the eddies and shadows of memory, until finally you reach
a scene, something not totally unfamiliar to you...

...you see a slim drow battling several pink fleshy creatures, his left arm
hanging down slightly while his right steadies a pike he has propped into the ground. As you look around his surroundings, you notice other young
adventurers battling creatures of there own. A giant, elf, dwarf. Looking
at the drow again you notice he stands over a pile of fleshy corpses, a faint
pained look on his face...

Oddly, a charming voice that has a somewhat acidic tone begins to speak...

'Yes, how interesting it was to awake with some strange being standing over
me, telling me to procede into a labrynth of knowledge and puzzles. I walked for days, reading of the creatures I had known and seen during my time in the Underdark. I came upon a certain tapestry that drew my eye, for it spoke of a village of the greatest warriors in Thera. If I am to become all that I may, they are worth searching out. Whether to learn from them, or learn from them in the chaos of combat as I rip out their hearts...'

You float through currents of time and space, finding another scene...

...you see the same drow, now battling several armored guardsmen. A thick length of chain with a spiked ball on the end weaves through the night air, taking the weapon of one of the guardsmen and tossing it into the darkness.
A thin purple flame seems to coat the armors of another, but they fight on with a rage that belies there station. The bodies of several of their fellows lay
lifeless on the hewn soil, their blood mixing with the loam and dirt to create a muddy quagmire. Glancing back, you notice the battle over, the drow limping away to the east in the darkness. Deciding to follow, you come upon him near a Keep some distance south of the battle. Breathing shallowly, he sleeps in fits, periodically waking an hour or two after his eyes close. Looking around, you notice a slim fela creeping close, studying the drow carefully...

'I learned many things after I awoke at that damnable altar in Galadon for the first time. One was to always be aware. I had thought my time in the Underdark would have prepared me for the times that would come, but I was wrong. There were days I found myself fighting near-armies of men, dwarves and elves. My training progressed slow, for I found myself interrupted often. I sought knowledge then, knowledge of my skills and knowledge of the world. I would say I learned quite a bit, but I paid for my knowledge. I paid.'


Subject Musings Part 2

...you look upon a bloodied, angered drow, breathing calmly as his veins bulge furiously. The corpse of a slim elf lies battered about five feet away from him, scorch marks marring the leather protecting his chest in a circular fashion. Small globs of algae dot the surrounding earth, as well a few reed javelins. The drow seems to be focusing on a slightly glowing creature approaching from the north...

'I won many battles, and lost many more. My art was not trained as it is now, not refined by the years. I found many enemies among the foolish Empire, among the Scions, among the Fortress. I did not lack for foes, that is sure. I also found that the Island above all was my enemy, a thought which while not surprising, still brought harsh realities to my conscious. For if they seek to weaken my talents, attack my home and seek my death, then they are my true and most important concern.'

An odd scene is before you. In it, a large giant wielding two massive swords buzzing with divine energy stands over a lithe drow in mismatched armor. A bestial minotaur stood carefully to the side, a confused look on his face. The face of the drow was composed, but his eyes seethed with unspoken anger. The giant continued to look down upon the smaller warrior, a sneer of arrogance on his lips as he hurled insults. With a casual glance, the drow rises, pulling a broad-bladed axe from a sheath on his back and handing it to the minotaur, before lunging at the giant...

'I learned early I could not trust those who I thought would aid me. It was something I was not unfamiliar with. Perhaps had I not been raised as a drow, I could have forgotten and forgave. But I will not. In a way, although my flesh at times fails me, my will burns bright. Let those who have crossed me fear my ascent. For if it happens, no quarter shall be given...'

...walking carefully through the shoals of a mighty Ocean, you notice an aging blue-skinned giant looking carefully at a slim drow with a shaved head. The broad-shouldered giant holds a massive polearm with accustomed ease in his callused hands. The drow occasionally speaks, gradually becoming more relaxed with the presence of the giant.

***I was going to continue with the rest of my role in this fashion, but I con-died before I could get STSF and pwn everyone's n00bie breadz***