So here I am, a Drow.
Asithi Ferrena. Swordsdrow. Nevermind my heritage as an albino. The others never understood, called me names. They called me "Elf". More than a few suffered my wrath at that abominable name. To call me that is to see your teeth on the ground, I can assure you.
Even my surname is a joke. "Shadedeeps" is what they told me it means. "Ghost one" is what they mean when they say it. I can see it in their eyes. Instead of taking it as an insult, it is instead, my pride. Never do my enemies see me comming. And neither did my people see me leave the caverns. I had enough of their sniveling - their jeering - their staring. I would make a name for myself.
Off I set, to the wilds of the caverns. I happened upon a chute leading upward, and followed the smell of fresh air upwards into the light. Only a scant few yards away, I found a road. Leading to a human town.
Surely, this is my chance! A chance to make it. Why, with my skin, they won't even suspect my Droven herritage. None of the ridicule. None of the taunting. Finally, I will be a hero to someone.
I inquired about work, and was told of a particularly dastardly individual: Athene Quickwaters. She was a bandit who had been giving these good folk a bit of trouble, and an elf, to boot! Not one of those High Elves, but a Sylvan. Forest rats. The very kind that drove my ancestors away oh so long ago. I was going to enjoy this
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I set out in the morning. My blade glistened with oils, sharp and ready for the kill. I arrived in her camp around nightfall. Stopping to drop my goods, I crouched low and approached silently. Never since childhood had anyone been able to see me comming.
Well this time, I never saw her comming.
Before I knew it, I was surrounded by Athene and her cronies. Oh, they didn't know what kind of Drow they were messing with, I tell you. A couple of her lackeys were Naga. This is why we Drow have no love for the Sylvans, even after these long millenia of separation. They mix too easilly with the other races. No matter. Four arms just means double the targets for my blade to bite into.
Long we fought into the night, until finally it was just me.... and Athene.
"You have done well, but now... you should prepare to die, youngling.", she said with a wry smile on her dirt smeared face.
"You know nothing of me or who I am!" I bellowed. "It is YOU who will die this night!"
"You know, once I might have believed you. You certainly seem to believe it yourself. But you Drow - yes I know what you are, dear - have been underground too long. The Dwarves have made some surprising advances recently." she said.
And pulled out a large cylinder, black and ruthless looking. A picture of a dragon was engraved on it's length. The dragon was laughing. A village was burning. It menaced with a smell of saltpeter and sulfur.
"Say goodnight, sweet drow"
There was a great explosion. Pain seared through my entire lower half. My sword, constant companion and my only defense, fell to the ground... and soon I followed it, sinking into a black abyss that knew no bounds. A restless, dreamless sleep enveloped me.
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When I awoke, she was gone. I got up to find my things scattered about the glade. Dead body parts were everywhere, and I remembered the night before. I tried to stand up and pain wracked my body. I passed back out, I know not for how long.
When I awoke for the second time, I knew she had left me for dead. That bitch. And that weapon. I must have it. I must find her and take it from her... I will make her suffer the indignities that she heaped upon me
But I will not be so merciful.
I have taken a new name, now.
Asithifama Nula
The Terrorcovered of Burials.
The next grave I see, I swear will be hers.
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To recap, out of character, I was blasted in the face by an elf with an artifact thunderbluss. The bitch then proceeded to not kill me, take half the things in the backpack I dropped, and left. She still isn't dead. I did, however, get a title somehow from this fight.
I don't know how any of it happened. But oh man I'm having fun with this one.
Asithi's hand was nearly severed in the attack, but instead just the nerves were severed. Normally that would be game over for a sword master, but thanks to a bit of modding I had done before the game ever started, it'll be healed within a year or so.
Athene must die, and these are the hands that will do it
