Morningst
12-08-2004, 05:28 AM
<DIV> <P>Ironic that it was Love that turned me to Hatred and made me what I am now. </P> <P>Ages ago, to gain the love of a dark elf man, I spurned Tunare and gloried in death, bloodshed, and hatred to gain the favor of Innoruuk. I plotted and murdered without mercy, burned innocents in their sleep, gloried in vengeance and spite and envy, and literally bathed in the blood of my enemies and victims, until Innoruuk granted me the right to pass unchallenged through Nektulos Forest, to the Neriak Commons, and even to the Third Gate.</P> <P>By then, I no longer cared why I had promised myself to Hate. Love was just a disguise, a tool to bring hurt to souls for Innoruuk. </P> <P>I remember the beauty of Nektulos which first seduced me away from the trees of Kelethin. It was cool, introspective and dark, much like the beautiful Teir'Dal and their stone cavern city, Neriak. A pretty glamour to dazzle the eyes of a young wood elf jaded with the smug hypocrisy of Faydark politics.</P> <P>That serene grandeur is destroyed now. Shattered. Just a painfully poignant memory in an old druid's storm-maddened mind.</P> <P>Longshadow Alley's foul, unrelenting squalor is a painful reminder of how far the Teir'Dal have fallen. Even the Ogres and Trolls keep their crude streets and rooms cleaner than the dark elves. What have we come to? A proud, handsome race huddling in their miserable inn rooms and sullen taverns, too misguided, dazzled and fearful to speak out against the Overlord that keeps them living in filth and poverty. </P> <P>I shouldn't dwell on the past, but I can't help myself. </P></DIV>