I had just about gotten used to the strange looks I got every time I walked into a new town. The glowing red eyes, the maniacal grin, and the occasional aura of death I drag around while in lich form tend to draw the eyes of those who had never seen a wizard Pale Master before. I was ok with that. The town of Eveningstar, however, gave me the stink-eye for a very different reason: because I am of the Drow Elf race.
While it may sound like a hilarious scene from “Blazing Saddles,” the anti-Drow sentiment around town made me very uncomfortable. Everywhere I went there was at least one knight following me around as if I were about to pillage the whole place. All the NPCs seemed to have something disparaging to say about my race. Even Elminster, the town cuckoo had a few bad things to say about the Drow.
Begrudgingly, I took a few quests in order to win the townsfolk’s trust. A few yards from town, at the King’s Forest, I began to understand where the negative attitude came from: two Drow archers mugged me. It was your classic Drow-on-Drow crime, except in Lich form, I happened to have a tremendous advantage. Two dead Drow archers later, I immediately thought about pleading self-defense or some Eveningstar equivalent of the Stand-Your-Ground law. I went back to town to turn myself in and the gatekeeper asked me how many I had killed. After confessing to killing two, the guard smiled and said “you get a prize at ten.” What the hell was that about?
After turning in a few piles of Drow bodies for experience points, that strange conscience thing kicked in again. It came at around the same time I discovered that the Drow had enslaved a few of the villagers using mind-control collars to bend their will. See, I have a very strict policy about these things. Hirelings, yes. Slaves, no. Thus I went all Abraham Lincoln on those Drow Slavers…that is if Lincoln was Death incarnate and was a pretty good shot with necrotic rays.
The collars were relatively simple and I noticed quickly that I had enough skill to disarm them once the slavers were dispatched. I recognized a couple of the slaves as townsfolk that had thrown rotten produce at me earlier in the week. Their collars unfortunately malfunctioned as I was disarming them.
The latest quest I’ve been given involves infiltrating an underground Drow town. The War Wizard that gave the quest said he cast a spell that activates at the appropriate time in order make adventurers “look Drow.” Going Drow-face in this day and age, really?
Perhaps someday when the worlds have gotten past their ignorance and bigotry, we could have a Drow president. Of course they’ll start unfounded rumors that he or she was actually born in Eberron.