The Book of Mortals

VarManzir

Far below the surface of the planet's crust, beneath the sunlit world of mankind, sleeps a young drow. Atop a small, uncomfortable bed his body lays motionless, his mind deep in a serene state of dreaming. His serenity is broken by that of a sharp pain, accompanied by the voice of mercilessness. A female drow wakes him as she does every morning, sending the tail of a whip into his back and ordering him to rise. This is a normal day for a drow in training, unfortunate enough to be born of male loins. This drow will be taught the skills of combat, and the daily aspects of servitude, as do all males of the underdark.

VarManzir, aspiring warrior of House De'Urmaan, prepares for another day of the Underdark. But after his normal routines have finished, he descends to a small cave amongst the solid walls of rock surrounding his silent city. this drow has begun to study that which is forbidden to all males, the magicks which are inherently given to the female of drow, the clerical Lloth given powers. After several hours of practice, VarManzir replaces a parchment to its leather bound casing and slips it into a crack, closing the hole with a chiseled rock. This male aspries to learn that which, should he ever be caught, would mean his end.

Standing in two perfect rows on each side of a long stretch of red carpet, nearly one hundred male drow stand at perfect attention, gathered for a ceremony of high regards in House De'Urmaan. Every member has been called forth to stand before the Matron Mother of House De'Urmaan, to witness the finalizations of a war between it and another House of the Underdark. A struggle for power, which now seems to have been won by House De'Urmaan. An old decrepit female, resting on her knees, crouches before the House's leader. This woman is the Matron Mother of the House which De'Urmaan has been combating, now at their final moment. The victorious Matron Mother speaks aloud to her House, degrading the actions of the crouching woman and her inferior House, then begins the casting of a spell. Screams erupt from the fallen woman as her flesh begins to blister and smoke. Flames consume her as she writhes in pain, and finally is left as nothing more than a smoldering corpse. Today has been a day of utmost victory for House De'Urmaan.

Several decades have past since VarManzir first began his studies of clerical magicks. His understanding of Divination and his ability to cast the most powerful spells of it has grown to immense aptitude over the years, though he knows should he ever display this capability, it would be rewarded with his demise by the hands of the relentless Priestesses of House De'Urmaan. VarManzir has, however, proved to be one of the most adept warriors in his House, earning himself a seat of high regard amongst the males of his House, as mundane as it is compared to the female drow. In these times, House De'Urmaan has fallen into a time of constant struggle. Two Houses now oppose them, and many have fell victim to the blades of this opposition.

VarManzir rushed through the long silent halls of his home. He knew there was little time for what he had to do. Images of his sister's corpse lying before him flashed through his head as he dashed silently from one hall to the next. He had been discovered, finally. All his years of practicing in secrecy, and in foolishness he jeapardized all he'd learned. Why, he thought, had his actions been of such folly? Melee had broken out in the lower halls of his House, where VarManzir had found his long time peer and friend, if there could be such a thing here, Keirnath. His fellow warrior had been left to die, victim of a longsword which had found its way between his ribs.

Nervously darting his head back and forth, crouched before Keirnath, Varmanzir laid his hands upon his fellow drow's side and began casting a spell. He knew if he were caught, it would mean certain demise. But acting upon instinct, VarManzir tried to save this fallen warrior. Suddenly, feeling the eyes of hatred upon him, VarManzir looked up, his gaze meeting that of one of his sisters, a Preistess of his House. Panic begins to sink in...

The scene flashed through his mind over and over. He had killed a De'Urmaan, worse; he had killed a female drow. VarManzir collected his personal effects and made his way out of his House, using the ongoing combat as his cover. Several minutes later he found himself at the edge of his world, looking upon the large cliffs of rock which made up the walls of this hidden city. Levitating himself to a tunnel which lead to the outside world, he stopped to take one glance back at his home, crumbling before him, and for him alone. VarManzir at this point knew he could never return.