A friend. Pewter settled down in mountain lion guise and stood guard. A friend - he rather liked the sound of that. He didn't think he'd ever had one before.
Sinda herself dreamed.
Her family were lowborn merchants, people without much power or prestige in a land where abuse of power was considered proper use. They were above the slave races, but not by much.
Sinda and her brother and sister had all grown up learning to fight and defend themselves, mainly because nobody else would raise a finger in their defense.
Then had come that fateful journey to the World Above, technically it was a merchant caravan picking up useful supplies like cheese and grains. A new commander from one of the higher ranked families had decided to make it a coming-of-age raid on the surface world.
Sinda had found herself confronting a little surface girl, had been ready to thrust her knife through her... and she'd noticed the same scared look that she'd seen in her own face in the Underdark. She'd kicked the girl and swore at her, and shoved her under her own home where the heat of the burning buildings would conceal her from elven darksight.
Then they'd fled with their spoils from the village, and Sinda had gotten a look at the world around her. It wasn't as horrible as people told her. The twinkling of lights above was sort of like mica in some vast cavern roof.
Then the big glowing orb had appeared and everyone's pleasant mood and bragging about how they'd killed unskilled peasants disappeared as their piwafwi and other items failed. Sinda had seen the blinding light and felt the pain, but had noticed that it was beautiful too - in its way.
She'd been more a loner than ever, not that anyone paid much attention to lowborn. She'd become fascinated with the trade and had lied about how she did fair dealings with the humes because that sort of reputation got her a better reputation and therefore better deals with the surface dwellers. She explained her fascination for the things of the surface the same way - how else were you going to find new trade goods and marketable supplies if you didn't?
She'd been successful too, turning into a fair fighter because of all the scrapes she'd get into along the way, but she'd made a reputation for finding new goods and suppliers. She'd learned ways of acting with those upperworlders to put them more at ease and not frighten them off. She discovered the crisp clear taste of cider and their apple wine to be tasty, and discussed recipes where rothe meat was cooked in diluted wine to give it a different taste.
Unfortunately, there was no success a lowborn could acheive that a highborn couldn't take away. Someone in the House Hunzrin had decided that the new delicacies were entirely too profitable and someone else had to step in.
Sinda had fled ahead of the priestesses, as she knew in her heart that when she was on the altar and tested by Lolth - she'd fail. Failure was worse than a quick clean death, because the priestesses would make it long and very messy indeed. She'd dreamt for years of going to live in the world outside, and had everything ready. Except that the tunnel she wanted to take was now being guarded and she had spotted one of the serpent-headed flails of the higher priestesses hanging from one woman's belt. No way she'd be able to sneak past and she had no idea why one of the higher-ups would be after her admittedly small-time head.
She'd found a nice shaft that should have led her to another tunnel, climbed down it, found herself trapped, and began praying with all due sincerity. She'd invoked all the kinder gods and goddesses she'd heard of - from Azuth to Moradin to Tyr and back again. She'd mentioned the names of the elven pantheon, Eilistraee, dwarven - heck if they were kind enough to help her out she wasn't proud. She hadn't sworn to any of the other drow gods or goddesses though - as she didn't see help likely from any source much less those sources.
She'd woken up with a start in a cave which had a view of the night sky, her books and texts nearby despite that she'd fled so quickly that she'd left them behind.
She'd also felt sore, and had a brief dream/memory of someone trying to pull her back with webbing and someone else tugging her free. She being the rope in this tug-of-war.
She'd been changed and strangely clumsy since then. Well, she'd always been a bit clumsy physically. Perhaps it was the bruise she'd felt alongside one temple. Perhaps not.
Once out, she'd found her contacts, warned them about the change in management - because she had a reputation for being the fairest and friendliest of the drow traders. Then was surprised when one of them gave her something precious - a name and a place and a contact.
That was how she'd met They Who Harped and found herself being stared at a lot. Apparently she was now a paladin, some kind of clerical warrior. Suited her - she knew how to fight and some unknown but apparently beneficient deity had marked her.
Now they apparently had a mission for her.
Well at least she had a friend now. She'd never really had one of those before.
"What do you suppose this drow's like?"
M'reth looked at the speaker and shrugged eloquently. "Never met one. Hear they're usually bad news but this one's a misfit like the rest of us."
"Who're you calling a misfit?" asked the other, but not sounding angry about it.
"I'm just a poor mithra acrobat who picked the wrong place to pilfer from," purred the mithra. "M'reth, no clan name. Those who call themselves Harpers said we might find adventure here. I'd rather find a warm bed and sunbeam myself."
"Ah so you are 'misfit' with regard to our current environment," realized
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(Posted Fri, 30 Apr 2004 09:53)
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