Role

Chapter 1

Hot bodies writhed around, the dull thumping of flesh upon flesh only
disrupted by the resounding ring of adamantite weapons clashing. The drow
were enmeshed in a beautifully violent orchestration of combat, honing their
skills and tempo in their daily training. They were the shadows and blades of
the first house of Teth Azeleth.

One young drow wickedly smiled in the jubilation. He relished in the
training, of pushing his body against another's, the thrill of victory and
the lessons in defeat. He inhaled the scent of sweat and frustration of his
opponents as he measured each shadowed footstep with his own, predicting and
forcing his will upon him as he learned not only his limits but his foes
patterns. There was no chaos for the seeing eye.

Yet after many decades of this, he had grown too accustomed to the patterns
of his people. Too predictable, and he felt his art plateaued. He required
more, desired more, to shape his mastery of combat.

One moonless night while his party raided the overworld, he slipped away, an
unseeable shadow in the dark of twilight. Up and up the mountains he
wandered, finding his way to Ayr'Trinil, to set his past behind him and
assume a new identity. He partook of Oier'Mickals grapes and sought a new
kingdom to build upon, one which he, or she now, could rule. And one day
perhaps a new House asserts its rule over Teth, and beyond.