Memoirs: Anziel of House Dinyth

Memoirs: Anziel of house Dinyth

My life on the surface world has been quite unique. For as a drow, as a male drow, my life in the underdark, in the city of Arenith Merzar where I was born, would have been quite different. Though the sunlight surely stings my eyes, for my people have lived in the deep recesses of the underdark for many millenia, that discomfort is dwarfed by the constant torture and defiling by the drow priestesses. For to be a male in the societies of drow is to be lowly and unimportant. Even Illindra, the drow goddess, will not answer the call of a male. And therefore, to be male in the drow cities is to be a master of survival because your life may be discarded quickly without a second thought.

I remember my escape from that cursed place. I assumed I would die in the underdark, for that place is filled with creatures as whicked and ruthless as the drow priestesses. But I had brought my sword against my eldest sister, had let my anger guide my blade, and with her dead at my feet, I knew I had forfeited my life. No, I had not forfeited my life, for here I am, alive and well. Rather, I had transformed my life in that moment. I had forced myself to flee the justice of Matron Mother Xaylth, forced myself to abandon that meaningless existence, and forced myself to flee the grasp of that whicked Illindra.

The journey to the surface was wrought with danger and peril, and I had thought many times that I was surely dead, but instinct alone guided me along my path. I reached the surface after nearly a year of seeking some way to escape the underdark for good, not knowing which way to turn. The loneliness of that year nearly broke me entirely!

But once I saw that stinging and piercing light from the sunrise peering at me through the tunnels far ahead, I knew at once that I had found some measure of salvation. Had I known that the surface offered such great opportunities for one of my background, perhaps I would have killed my sister sooner. Perhaps I would have killed them all!

Life was quite different on the surface. After I found myself as a member of The Ravens Guild, I soon discovered a freedom that I had never known. I would put my skills to use, and I was compensated handsomely, so much so that I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. But then the politics came into play, and rather than put me to good use, I found myself more often than not used as a sheathed sword. The threat of the drow was ever-present, but it was never drawn, for the fear of the blade was enough to keep enemies at bay.

I grew bored with that life, and so, I left there with a parting gift. I sought my own road and had the money to establish my own ambitions. Anyone who looked upon me would recoil in fear due to the vile reputation of the drow. Combined with a fair bit of coin, I was able to move about through any city quietly and pursue my greater purpose. It was aboard a ship headed for Arrotha where I first met Duzen. And for the last several decades, he has kept me quite entertained. Who would ever thought, a dwarf and a drow?