The first letter from Dondiah Nightow
-
You are dear to me.
That is why I’m writing to you about my history. It is lengthy, so please sit and perhaps get some sustenance, because I am going to take you through a short journey, and you may be famished by the end of it. I know it drains me just to think and already my quill hand is starting to ache.
I should start at the beginning, where all stories do.
I was born a bastard. There is no way to be kind about the way I came into the world, the fact remains that I was cursed from the start. My mother was taken forcibly, and I was the result. A raiding party, they told me when I was young, they had come to the surface to raid and take and strike fear into the hearts of the goodly races. I knew there was more behind it, but never questioned my parents.
My mother was a sun elf noble and my father (I call him this, though biologically he was not, he still took me in) was the town aristocracy. I was lucky that they loved me, that she loved me, when I could not love my self. I often tried to wash the gray away from my skin, scrubbing till I bled, but my mother soon put a stop to that:
“Dondiah!” she shrieked “my angel…why would you do such a thing? I love you, all of you, even the half that you despise. You are a perfect angel in my eyes.” And she wept, and I wept, and never wanted to hurt her like that again. It was an unconditional love I never understood…until I became a mother myself.
My father was strict and snooty, as many sun elves are. But he loved me, and my mother. When I became old enough to “start acting like a lady” I became quite close to my father, a wizard who was more interested in teaching me to read and write than how to wear my hair properly. Still, appearance was important, even though my skin was ashen; he still took me to many important events, and was fierce to whoever pointed out my skin in an uncouth way. Although, darling, it doesn’t really matter does it? One is always judged. Soon I volunteered to stop going, which was around the time I started to make friends.
Dryden, the wild elf son of the local hunting chief was my first love, and will probably be my last true love…my eyes sting with tears whenever I think of him darling.
Then there was Kaze, I was close to her, she was the daughter of a local priestess, and had a talent with healing that was something that always surpassed her age. Then of course there was Ty, son of the town drunk but always had cleverness about him, a sharpness that isn’t found in too many. Finally Red, the local barmaid, always willing to help and willing to beat someone up if they were unkind. She was quick to laugh, and quick to aid.
We grew the closest when Jordan wiped away the town, plaguing it with a
disease we were fortunate enough to not have…we had been taken away, I think someone knew what was to happen, and for some reason we were who was chosen, to live for better or worse.The tale goes on, love.
We did, as we became a group, bent on finding the man who destroyed what we held most dear meet another friend, Oreth. Quiet, solemn, but a humor about him, and a secret strength that he reserved for fighting. I think he was second best listener in the group, Dryden, the first.
We found him, we slew him, and in time, we made a name for ourselves. I married Dryden, and Ty and Red were together. We became Demon Knights. Zephlin was another friend we met who lead us on this path. He was amusing and amused, and had a magic about him that was so different, no one really knew where it came from. Within I suppose. He was always kind to me, even with my appearance. I never thanked my friends for their kindness and acceptance. For their willingness to die for me when people spit or recoiled or screamed “DROW!” I think of them and thank them now, wherever they may be, alive or dead.
You know much of the rest, you were there.
After that, my love, I was taken and tortured. Yes I know much was left out of this story, about how I killed my true father, about how I nearly slept with a blood brother, about meeting Onyx and my affair, about meeting Drizz’t and his advice. I will tell you more, but right now, the fact remains, I am imprisoned in this pale golden skin, and I cannot remember what it is like to see at night without the moon, or speak the harsh tongue of the underground worlds, or to brush my thick silvery hair. I will still dance and sing, I can get that much back, I can relearn the sword, I can still worship Eilistraee.
I hope you are alive, I hope you are well, I hope you have not gone with TK.
I still love you Deirdre, I am here in Narfell, where I hear Ty and Oreth reside. Please… come back to me.
More letters to follow even if you do not get them.
Dondiah Nightow
-
Login: Dondiah
Char name: Dondiah Nightow
-
reviewed, xp pending
I need your login and character name though to assign the xp.
