The Demons Inside
The hot sun beat down on his bare back as Jierdan sat upon the roof over the Monk's Guild. Sweat beaded at his hairline.
The heat was getting to him, making his mind do funny things. Physically unable to do much of anything in this weather, he was forced to sit around as he was now. Such idleness brought up old memories, buried in the back of his mind.
Before him, a leather bound book lay open on the first page. He didn't write much, but he skilfully crafted the first sentence in flawless drow script.
There are points of my life that I cannot say I'm proud of, but rarely do I ever find myself ashamed. I look back now on my days in my home city in the Underdark, and there are two events that stand out clearly in my mind. The first, was the death of my wife, Rebekka. And the second was the birth of my daughter.
Rebekka had made a quick recovery, even for an elf. She was out he knew, in the caverns outside the city, part of a hunt for silver dragons. They were sworn enemies of the drow, pinnacles of light and good. Rebekka was always quick for a chance to prove herself to the people of their city. He knew she had great aspirations, but he would be scorched in the underworld for eternity if he knew what they were.
Jierdan wasn't strong, not in the brute way desired by many drow. But he was lithe, and skilled in the art of secrecy. He could've been a mage, he supposed. That was one of the few ways male drow could gain recognition, in the books of the mages. But he had decided against it... and in his idleness, his family had maneuvred him into marriage.
It had been difficult to accept. Jierdan had a prideful spirit that many males lacked in their society. His wife was unforgiving, as she had to be, as a priestess, and their were many nights he slept on his stomach, because she'd whipped him with a tentacle rod.
But things had taken a turn for the better, it seemed.
He lay on his side on the bed he shared with Rebekka. Beside him, lay the tiniest creature he'd ever seen... his own daughter. It was a fortunate thing for their family that she had been a female. It was a sign from the drow Goddess that their family was favored.
The little girl was only two months old. Jierdan laid there and found he could only look at her. It seemed that if he touched her, he would break her. Such thinking was unbecoming, especially since she was a female, the dominant gender. Rebekka was already planning the occasion on which the little girl would kill her first eye demon, her first round in the fighting pits...
But Jierdan could only comprehend that this thing, this child before him needed to be protected.
And for the first time, he knew love.
He reached out for the sleeping child, when there was a sharp, insistent knock at the door...
