A very short life
by Briza d'Olath
Mon, 12 Jun 2000, at 9:31 p.m. CST

Briza was curious. The little drow moved with practiced ease through the shadows following the young human couple as they bantered back and forth. She had seen them before and was strangely drawn to them. Sure they were lowly humans, but, as Vlondril had taught her, they could also make interesting pets and objects of entertainment. So she watched them, confident in the knowledge that the mere sight of a drow would be enough to keep her safe. They had nearly killed her the previous day but she passed that off as a few bad apples in the human barrel. Now, she was a bit more cautious but still very much wanting to join in the fun.

The two rangers happened upon a deer and, at first, the young drow thought they would fall upon it and kill it just for sport, maybe torture it a bit before watching it bleed to death. (She wondered what sort of noise a deer would make if it were in pain.)

One of them said, "Someone will kill it if we don't get it out of here."

Of course, Briza thought, they wouldn't let everyone in on their fun. So, she followed the rangers as they brought the deer out of town. But the deer protested as the female tried to pull it along. So, the young drow thought that the games had begun

Briza fired her crossbow, a smaller version of the type her father used. But of course, she missed, she could barely hit the side of the small house Vlondril had been keeping her in. Without warning, the humans turned on her, one with a bow and the other with a huge sword.

Off she ran back toward the Abby, but they were fast.

Taking advantage of her small size and quick young legs she rounded a corner and hid in the shadows. Then there was a very scary man with a dark beard and long dark hair and he seemed furious as he searched for her.

She bolted then, feeling that this no longer was a game; they meant to kill her.

Before she could reach the side of the Abby, a sword had cut deeply into her side and an arrow had already stuck out of her shoulder. She stumbled and the dark haired man was on her, firing his bow point blank into her. She collapsed, blood

She bolted then, feeling that this no longer was a game; they meant to kill her.

Before she could reach the side of the Abby, a sword had cut deeply into her side and an arrow had already stuck out of her shoulder. She stumbled and the dark haired man was on her, firing his bow point blank into her. She collapsed, blood flowing rapidly from her wounds.

"Lloth!"

What she had hoped would be a loud, indignant shout was only a small, hoarse whisper. She was dying and she knew it. For, what seemed like a long moment she lay there, reviewing future events that would never happen. Her father, Balaern'sus, watching over her as she made her first kill, perhaps a stupid wanre that did not bow fast enough. Her mother, the High Priestess Trisa, watching on as she drove a poison dagger in the back of Vlondril, taking over the Qu'ellar Vlos'Ilhar in one swift motion.

She heard the sound of glass being dropped on the grass beside her and the last thing she saw was the small vial she knew might save her. Her hand inched toward it, then she blacked out, her spirit going to whatever "reward" she earned, only to be briefly brought back by a familiar voice. Which didn't make sense.