The Oddball of the Underdark

[Darius]

~Why the Underdark? Seriously. Why did I get stuck in a place with a heritage that only specializes in Arcana? I mean, how is someone like me born here?~

The druid thought, adjusting his shoulder armor. He was wearing a bronze-colored breast plate with a few Imaskari designs on it. His Scythe, strapped to his back, was his primary weapon. He stroked Caireidh's fur, the Worg closing his red eyes in enjoyment.

"You there, make that beast go away." a nearby Drow patron shouted, drawing a weapon. "Or I will kill it."

"Caireidh, go. I'll meet you in the cave at the top of Sshamath." the druid stated, letting the Worg run out the door. He watched to make sure his friend wouldn't get noticed by the guards and watched him sprint up the spiral. Once he was sure the Worg was safe, he walked back into the tavern and sat down with a tankard of Bitter Black, the ONLY thing he liked in this dank hole called the Underdark.

The Drow, seeming a bit disappointed that the Worg was gone, decided to move aggressively toward Darius, when one of the nearby Duergar, for what ever foolish reason, shouted an insult at the Drow.

"Hey, long-ears. Is it me, or are your kind almost as short as mine?" the Duergar bellowed.

~What a fool!~ Darius thought, slapping his forehead with his palm. The Drow rushed the Duergar, and took revenge for the insult. A pair of guards came in the door and dragged both of the aggressors to Gods-Knew-Where.

The Imaskari Druid went back to his Bitter Black and slipped into deep thought. How was he going to escape these Gods-forsaken caverns?