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(From "The Sack of Zhenna")

Dulevrie noted the approach of the little Drow slave with the scar on her face, a pot of tea and some little clay cups held carefully before her. With the attitudes that Drow had, the expedition were all acting as if, technically speaking, the slave-girl belonged to the Lady Hal'aste and not to him; a male elf owning a female Drow was... politically troublesome. But she was his, in truth, as far as he was concerned.

Of course that was not the question at hand. Dulevrie considered the matter of whether he trusted her.

Were she Hake, he would have no doubts about her. Lird'yl was her name, which he knew was one of the many, many combinations of words that meant 'slavegirl' in the Drow tongue. Their paths had crossed at a Drow slave market outside of Ched'l Sulho, and she'd been destined for a wretched fate. For the dark elves prized beauty, and failing that, usefulness; and preferred both where they could get it. She'd had few skills, and so whatever cruel Drow had deliberately scarred her face had known they were stealing any hope of a good future from her, for it meant even as a slave she would have little value. But it was not as simple as to say she had been lucky he was there; she'd solved a dire problem for him as well. And she had prospered in his service; she was no longer thin and ragged, and when she smiled even her scarred face was beautiful in its way. If she were only Hake!

But she was Drow, and even in one who had been so wretched, ambition stirred in her heart, and therefore treachery with it. She'd seen more of the world, now, traveling with their party, and she had served at the feet of mighty dark elves. She'd been simple, at first, and protective to the point of enduring great risk. But now that she'd been serving under others, now that others might be in a position to offer her the rewards even greater than he could...

But if he followed that logic, could he ever trust any Drow? He hadn't treated her simply as a toy; he'd been fair... or fair enough, he hoped. And if something was wrong... she was far from home, amidst dangerous people she hardly knew, and he her only ally. Betraying him would not be an act of ambition, but stupidity. It would be easier for someone to simply leave her dead in a cavern than to pay her any reward they'd promised for betrayal.

She might be inexperienced, but he did not think she was a fool.

And you had to trust someone, eventually.

Mature Content

Notes:

* No I haven't forgotten about this group of jerks. We dare hope for 2021 and an end to enervation.

* Maybe I will shade her more later. <(u_u)>

Description

(From "The Sack of Zhenna")

Dulevrie noted the approach of the little Drow slave with the scar on her face, a pot of tea and some little clay cups held carefully before her. With the attitudes that Drow had, the expedition were all acting as if, technically speaking, the slave-girl belonged to the Lady Hal'aste and not to him; a male elf owning a female Drow was... politically troublesome. But she was his, in truth, as far as he was concerned.

Of course that was not the question at hand. Dulevrie considered the matter of whether he trusted her.

Were she Hake, he would have no doubts about her. Lird'yl was her name, which he knew was one of the many, many combinations of words that meant 'slavegirl' in the Drow tongue. Their paths had crossed at a Drow slave market outside of Ched'l Sulho, and she'd been destined for a wretched fate. For the dark elves prized beauty, and failing that, usefulness; and preferred both where they could get it. She'd had few skills, and so whatever cruel Drow had deliberately scarred her face had known they were stealing any hope of a good future from her, for it meant even as a slave she would have little value. But it was not as simple as to say she had been lucky he was there; she'd solved a dire problem for him as well. And she had prospered in his service; she was no longer thin and ragged, and when she smiled even her scarred face was beautiful in its way. If she were only Hake!

But she was Drow, and even in one who had been so wretched, ambition stirred in her heart, and therefore treachery with it. She'd seen more of the world, now, traveling with their party, and she had served at the feet of mighty dark elves. She'd been simple, at first, and protective to the point of enduring great risk. But now that she'd been serving under others, now that others might be in a position to offer her the rewards even greater than he could...

But if he followed that logic, could he ever trust any Drow? He hadn't treated her simply as a toy; he'd been fair... or fair enough, he hoped. And if something was wrong... she was far from home, amidst dangerous people she hardly knew, and he her only ally. Betraying him would not be an act of ambition, but stupidity. It would be easier for someone to simply leave her dead in a cavern than to pay her any reward they'd promised for betrayal.

She might be inexperienced, but he did not think she was a fool.

And you had to trust someone, eventually.

Mature Content

Notes:

* No I haven't forgotten about this group of jerks. We dare hope for 2021 and an end to enervation.

* Maybe I will shade her more later. <(u_u)>