Narid - 2nd Class Citizen / Diary of Ash

[Skarain]

(( Some weeks ago, before the date of posting... ))

The room was dirty, filthy and smelled like earth. The floor was hard-packed clay and the walls had mold on them. On the wall next to the sorry excuse of a bed was a noticeable blood stain that nobody had bothered to scrub off, and there was a smell of urine in a corner. Through the cycle, sounds of the pit and the tavern carried to the room, drunken singing, arguments, sometime bar-fights and the fighting in the pit. Beyond the bed, the room had little furniture. A wooden table with stains, and a chair that was barely holding together and creaked by every slight movement made by the woman sitting on it. The woman was the height of a human, but with pointy ears and dark skin. Her white hair was kept short, and had not been washed for ages. They were dressed in a simple dress, patched and repaired many times. They did not have shoes, but instead wore scraps of cloth wrapped around their feet. Their knuckles to had been bandaged, but as for now, the bloodied wrappings lay aside on the table as the hand with bruised knuckles held the quill that danced on a page of cheap parchment. The end of a candle, barely burning and about to go out was all the light on the room, but that's all what the woman needed.

My dark mistress Shar,

It is not mine to hope for a better life, but I am grateful, whether it was simply a twist of fate or your divine hand that brought ruin upon that swine whom I called my "master". I suspected that gambling would be his end, admit i feared it would be my end before his. He is now imprisoned, taken away wherever the guard of Sshamath take their unwanted material. In a way, I got my revenge in the end, for the way he treated me, but alas, he is only one of many masters - and many more to come.

Maggot has been alright, as a "master". They don't allow slavery of "civilized races" in Sshamath, so by the former masters capture, I became a Indentured servant. I am working in this filth-hole, fighting, cleaning, cooking, enduring the bottom pinches and other charming habits that the trash of the society in here seems to have adapted. Also some fighting in the ring, but I generally avoid that if I can. It carries no benefit, no gain, only bruises and pointless cheers of a drunken crowd.

I know it is not by the teachings to strive for a better position in life, but I shall, if only to serve you better, my dark lady, and to learn of the secrets of this city and it inhabitants. I will cut my sleeping hours to find other work, and pay off my debt to Maggot, and be rid of this place as soon as I can. If I am to serve, I may as well serve someone more involved.

-Narid

The half-drow lifts the page of parchment and blows over it, to make the ink dry. She takes some time to read through the text several times. She then holds the page of parchment over the fading flame of the candle, and watches as the page catches fire and slowly burns into ash.

[Skarain]

(( Some days ago, before the date of posting... ))

The Half-Drow sits again in the room, writing on the page of parchment. The room have barely changed, but the woman has. Wearing relatively fine but not overly flameboyant robes, leather gloves and a pair of gloves - the later which rest on the table, where once bloodied bandages lay. A circlet forming the pattern of a spider's web, with two small green gems forming the eyes of the spider in the web - a popular type of adornment in Sshamath - rest upon her brow. Her hair is washed, combed, but still looks more or less the same

My diary of ash, written in solitude, burned to memory from the physical world, and the secrets to remain forever a secret.

My dept to Maggot has been paid. I paid him double, to avoid questions. For this, Enchanter Rlyd is to thank. He was generous enough to look beyond the commoner's robes and granted me a job in servetium exempler, his premium quality servant business. As ironical as some may find a half-human to be considered premium. I do neither agree or disagree with that statement - i simply do not care.

His grinning face is annoying, but i'll bare with that for the time being.

-Narid

The half drow crosses their arms and leans over the table, reading the page of parchment several times. She then lift it by it corner and brings it above the familiar candle, and watches as the room grows brighter for a moment and the smell of burned parchment fills the air.