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Qrae, the drow

Day of Deception
The Month of the Winter Storm
1230 AK

This may very well be my last entry. I have grown very old and though death knocks not at my door, there are other reasons why my demise may be at hand. Whoever finds, or receives it through legacy will see that it is not a chronicle of my life, nor is it a confession. Rather, these words document the things I have seen and what life has come to mean to me here in the darkened caves and hallways of the Underworld.

For over fifteen hundred years I have lived apart from my brethren, a recluse living by his own rules. Our world is as horrifying as it is beautiful - not that many of us ever see the beauty around us. I am certain that there is love somewhere in these echoing caves, though I have never felt it. Upon occasion I have observed a slave being beaten or a death sentence being set in the place of its runaway child, or its brother or sister. They have always perplexed me for while our slaves may be dirty, brutish creatures, I have seen love between them. Perhaps then, this search for love has been the sole purpose for my existence. I am not sentimental. I only hope to find something different… redemption in this city of chaos.

Living in this city has, through the years, lead me to one conclusion: the only true bliss lay in death itself. And so I have become an assassin. For a while I admit I took pleasure in each kill, believing that I delivering my victim from the inevitable pain of a long agonizing existence. How wrong I had been. I had done nothing but fall into my own self-made web of delusions and lies, taking countless lives with me. But do not judge me too harshly yet! You see… I have made amends, and should this assassin succeed in his final mission he may yet lift the dark fog that envelops the world of the drow.

Where shall I begin then? Let us see….

On the fateful night that begins my journey, I was summoned by our ruling body, the Matron Mothers of the six Great Houses. A dark elf child had been born fated to lead a rebellion that would end our way of life. The child, true to the prophecy, was born into a powerful merchant family on the coldest night of the month of the Return. The Six were determined to slaughter the child but the clan's wealth brought it awesome defenses. What could not be done by force would be done by stealth, which brought them to me.

I was not the greatest swordsman; at least a dozen drow come to mind who were far more skilled. Like all drow, I am cognizant with magic, though I am not especially gifted. I am tenacious, however, with the patience of time itself. Other assassins become anxious or overzealous when thwarted. They rush in and die or worse, leave a trail back to themselves or their patron. That is not my way. I prefer slow, deliberate and sure.

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