Role

Chapter 1

Being different is not a benefit in Teth-Azaleth. It is no asset or blessing
or estimable quality. Quite the opposite. Order. Rigid, eternal, brutal order,
that is the heart of dark-elf society. A matriarchy unbroken for longer than
recorded history. A religion imposed since the beginning of mortal existence.
Castes, impenetrably defined and separated, generation after generation. It is
awesome, in its way. But no chink in that societal armor is allowed. No deviation
permitted.

Czorzhinka, of course, was delighted by all such rigidity, being one of those at
the top of the pyramid. Granddaughter to the Matron Mother, second in line to
the throne, she basked in the glow of power and wealth. Her face was the spitting
image of her grandmother, a constant reminder that one day she would rule.
The Magic Master, highest mage of all, was her personal teacher - and his whip
never touched her flesh. She was known for her prodigious talent, her magical
resources beyond any other in known memory, and she was known as the pride of her
family, her city, her people. Casual cruelness is second nature to her, as much
or more as any of her kind, and she takes particular pleasure in doing so with
magic. Showing off, really, and proving she just is better than everyone else. A
delightful life, as long as it's your life, of course. Never once did she fail.
Never once did she feel she was not superior to any other, not stronger than any
other, not able to handle all that might come her way.

But of course there would be no story to tell if everything went according to
plan. Czorzhinka's reveling in her stature was all well and good until the
shackles of her life started chafing. It seems she was not quite so happy with
rigid order, when it went against what she wanted. At first it was small things,
small, shall we say, infractions. Being late for things, making important people
wait. Small but painful pranks, petty jokes at others' expense. Things that
someone in her station can get away with. But as with most things, the more she
got away with things, the more boring they became, and the more she needed to
sate her desire for some chaos in this ocean of order, the greater the
transgression she needed to committ. Ultimately, it ended where of course it had
to end, where it always would end. Death. She worked her way up with various
less final acts - injury, theft, disgrace, anything and everything she could come
up with, and always after thinking of some way she could accomplish her plan
with an interesting or new use of magic. And after years of this, of course
she came to the last stop, the greatest of all things: taking a life. She had
done so before, all dark-elf do early on, but always in a very controlled
environment. Never without permission, never without proper processing in
the City.