Matoxx the Master Minstrel

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Chapter 1

Travelling through time, coming into a short-distant past, you come across
the blood line tales of the Drow City. Herein lies what once was known as a
warrior scholar of the caverned mines deep below the earth. Several disbanded
tribes were scattered about the catacombs of the drow homelands, due to civil
wars, and territorial disputes.

There was a special Tribe of mostly drow blood warriors, called the
Kral'orgul, a closed circle of drow family, known for years of enlsavement,
treachory, and deciet. Long has their reign been amongst the clans of the
underdark. Decieving they're would be allies into traps, slavery, and
anything they could in order to overcome their adversaries and continue their
advancement through the drow heirarchy.

Within the tribes ranks, there was an imprisoned drow, who was not of
pure-blood that since childhood, was forced into their wars, scouting for
the pure-bloods, being expendable as he was, Matoxx quickly sharpened his
abilities to survive on his own, and lead groups of others into would be
suicidal combat had it not been for his unnatural sense of survival.

As territories shifted, and the civil wars of the pure-blood catacomb
dwellers began to slow, the drow began to move towards the surface in small
raiding parties to gather supplies, and slaves.

Years of fear, hatred, and total darkness had taken long a toll on
Matoxx, losing almost any sense of loyalty to his enlsavers, developing a
great despise for this fake nations abonishment against the endless caverns
of the earth. Trusting in his survival and perception of what was to come,
being part of a tribe who could do nothing for themselves without the
enlsavement of its own blood, Matoxx began to plot against his pure-blood
relatives, waiting for the time to lead them where he wanted them to be.

The Kral'Orgul set journey to the surface one eve, as the silver moons of
Thera were passing in full shine, a glisten from the eyes of Matoxx was only
ill omen for what was to come to his company. Leading them in a musical
stupor to succumb their will, to follow him without thought, an unknown
spirit entered his body, giving him the strength to overcome their
enslavement, quickly he began to pick pace through the jungle outside the
chessmasters tower, Matoxx brought his hunting party before the mighty
draconian protector of its territory. Seeing within Matoxx the treachory, and
oppression that had been long chained to his heart, his entire party was
taken apart by the emerald beast, sparing the half-blood, giving him chance
to bring word alloud to the surface dwellers the taint of the civilised ways.
The evil of those whom create what cannot sustain on its own. Giving way
Matoxx brought from his breath words of great sorrow, and tales of bloody
wars, pleasing the emerald dragon.

Several days, Matoxx spent with the dragon, speaking of what had been
happening among the surface dwellers, and the political strains that had
formed and began to tear at the heart of his home. Not his home in the
underdark, his home within all of Thera.

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Chapter 2

The one thing that bears meaning is the now. One can not look to the past,
for it is gone. One can not look to the future, for it is hidden.

Civilizations are made, but wont endure. For all things crumble, even the
eternal gods or the majestic trees of the deep forests.What gives reason
for existance is the ability to recover, to blossom once more.

This is the only thing that bears meaning, for it requires no knowledge of
what has been, or what is to come.

Such is the essence of my belief.

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