[Ana]

This is the story of the exiled Half-Drow Aria, told through journal entries chronicling her travels after her escape from the underground cities of the Drow.


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I've been working on this story for several years now. Inspiration seems to come few and far between. XD There are currently four "chapters" with an unknown amount of entries to follow. I always welcome polite, constructive criticism that can help me improve my writing. If you do comment, please give me suggestions, or specific examples, not just "I don't like it."

Praise, of course, is always welcome as well XD But again, as much as it gives me warm fuzzies to know you like my story, I'd love even more to know exactly what it is about it that you like.

And whether you choose to comment or not, more than anything else, I hope you enjoy my story.

[Ana]

Emergence

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally made my way out of the dark, brooding caves. I noticed it first as a slight lightening of the stone walls around me. Lifting my gaze from the rough floor beneath me, I lifted one hand to my eyes, shielding them from the blinding ball of light ahead. My other hand instinctively went to the dagger at my side. As if the spider on the hilt could protect me from the ever increasing light. Realizing that I had a death grip on the cursed thing, I immediately let go with a guttural sound of disgust. Gods, I wish I could rid myself of the thing. But no matter how often I try to throw it from me, something, some...urge, stays my hand.

I forced myself to continue forward, despite the fear, despite the burning pain in eyes that had never seen a light stronger than a half used candle. I had been through Hell (quite literally) to escape the horror of my home and nothing could stop me.

Little did I know that the already blinding light was just the beginning. After two hours of painful, slow progress I finally could go no further. My world was an unending flare of white, soul crushing light. Turning away from the horror in the sky, I crawled back into the cave and found a medium sized boulder, just big enough to huddle behind, and tried to hide from the all consuming fire.

Eventually the light began to lessen, my world fading back into blessed darkness. This was my chance to go. My chance to complete my escape from my past. But I couldn't make myself move. The pain and fear were too much. With one last, exhausted sigh, I sank into an even deeper darkness. But even that was no escape, for in that darkness lurked another consuming fire. A dark fire with an evil, leering face at its center.

And so it has been for three cycles of darkness and light. Here I stay, too frightened to continue and unwilling to go back.

I have no idea how long I lay cowering behind the boulder, a cave rat trapped by a merciless predator. More than five cycles, less than fifty. My world had become an endlessly repeating cycle of pain and exhaustion.

To my shame I began to contemplate returning to the Underdark. Could the horror and cruelty of that perpetually dark place really be worse than this? Its not like I had to return to my mother's City. Perhaps I could scratch out a living in the caverns. It would be hard, but I would be free. Free from the chaos that is Drow society. Free from those that would see me dead. And most importantly, free from the blinding, burning monster in this alien sky.

It was during one of the all too brief cycles of darkness that I decided my battered body and soul had had enough. My supplies were quickly running out. I had to do something. So I gathered what little strength I had left and began to crawl back into the "safety" of the Underdark. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know if I would really have gone through with it. But then everything changed. Drifting in from somewhere outside the cave I heard it. Music. Music unlike anything I had ever heard before. To be sure, my homeland was full of music. Battle chants and hymns to the evil goddess Lloth. Music as evil and cruel as the hearts that sang such blasphemies. But this. This music was full of life and beauty. I had never even imagined such a thing existed.

The music called to me, pulling me to its source. Slowly, carefully I made my way through the surrounding forest, so focused on the magical sound that my fear had fled and I was blind to all around me. As I drew nearer to the source of the music, I saw a flickering light ahead. Being careful to make no sound, I came upon a small campground. The brightness of the fire made it hard for me to see them clearly, but I was able to make out the shapes of three figures. There was a male elf, a huge, nearly giant human man....and him. The source of the heavenly music. Squinting through the glare of the fire, I tried to make out his features. Human, with black, tousled hair that came just to his shoulders. His eyes were....well I couldn't really say. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but one moment they seemed to be a clear bright blue, the next a soft gray and the next, a brown so deep it nearly matched his hair. He was wearing plain, well traveled clothing in shades of brown and green. He was playing some sort of stringed instrument that I had never seen before. The fire still obscured much of his features and I couldn't tell whether he was handsome or plain.

In frustration, I leaned forward straining against the glare of the fire. In my distraction, I snapped a small twig. The man suddenly stopped playing and turned to face my hiding place. I quickly ducked behind a nearby tree, cursing my stupidity. The man spoke in a language I didn't recognize, and then another. The elf said something to him and then, to my shock, the man spoke in perfectly understandable, if somewhat formal, Drow. "I know you're there Little Sister. You weren't nearly as silent as you thought. Come on out. We won't hurt you."

More than anything during my long, dangerous flight from the Underdark, I had dreamed of my first meeting with the surface dwellers. I had imagined a thousand different outcomes. Thought myself prepared for every scenario. And here I was at last....with no idea what to do. Fear, loneliness, curiosity, distrust and longing all warred within me, leaving me in a frenzy of indecision.

The elf and the musician conferred once more in their unfamiliar tongue. The man turned back to the forest and spoke again. "Are you still there Little Sister? The night is chilly and our fire is warm. Come, join us and share the tale of how you came to be so far from home."

In the end, it was my curiosity that won, a rather dangerous trait of mine, inherited from my poor father. I stepped out from behind the tree, being careful to stay well within the shadows, and spoke in a voice rough from disuse. "I am not your sister. My name is Aria. How does a human come to speak the Drow tongue?" The man gave a musical laugh and replied. "Ah. Straight and to the point. I like your style Little Sister. To answer your question, well, a Bard must learn many things and travel many places in the service of his craft."

"No sane human willingly travels to the Underdark."

"Ah, well," replied the man, "Julian de'Lucia has been accused of many things in his life. I don't believe sanity is one of them. Besides," he added with a wry twist to his voice, "Who said anything about going willingly?"

I thought I understood now. "You were a slave." A hundred years of learned contempt instinctively crept into my voice.

The man....Julian, shrugged his shoulders. "A slave? I suppose some would have called me that, although it’s not the term I would have chosen. Let's just say one of my adventures took an....unexpected turn."

Unsure of how to respond, I took the easy way and said nothing. As the silence stretched between us, Julian made a small sound of frustration and raked one hand through his already unruly hair. "It’s hard to carry on a conversation with a shadow, Little Sister. Come, join us so we can talk properly."

And so the moment of truth had arrived. Would I join them and take my first step to being a part of this frightening new world? Or would I slink back to my cave and forever remain a shadow? Perhaps thankfully, I'll never know the answer to that question, because at that moment I noticed an alarming lightening of the sky above us. I realized that, because of the near hypnotic state in which I'd followed the music to the camp, I had no idea how long it would take me to return to the safety of my cave. I was gripped by a rapidly mounting terror. Without a parting word to Julian and his companions, I turned and fled into the woods, all thought of stealth or silence wiped from my mind.

Staggering into my hiding place, I dove behind my blessed boulder mere minutes before the sky erupted into a murderous glare. Despite the slowly receding panic at the realization of how close I had been to being caught out in the light with no place to hide, I felt strangely euphoric. As I lay there, I finally slipped into the first natural, dreamless sleep I had experienced in weeks.

When I awoke to a soothing darkness, I found a strange bundle just inside the mouth of the cave. Wrapped into a somewhat large, but tidy, bundle was a heavy, deeply hooded cloak and a week's worth of water and food. There was also a large, thick hide, who's purpose I couldn't fathom at first until I noticed the stakes and rope that were wrapped in it and realized it was a small tent. Tucked into the bindings of the travel gear was a note, written in that same, strangely formal Drow. "We never got to finish our conversation last night Little Sister. To the North of your cave is a river. If you follow it against the current these supplies...and a little luck, should see us sharing tales of our adventures beside a lovely campfire. Don't take too long though. Julian de'Lucia will only slow down for so long."

It was a matter of minutes before I was heading for the river. New cloak around my shoulders, pack on my back and the memory of a pair of ever changing eyes calling me on.

[Ana]

Journey

He's a dead man.

When I finally catch up with that gods accursed man, I swear by all the demons of the underworld I will rip out those damnable eyes of his and feed them to him.

It didn't take me long to find the river Julian had mentioned in the note. All I had to do was follow the sound of rushing water. After a short hike through the forest, I broke through the tree line and came to the banks of the river. Where I stood, paralyzed by wonder.

I had seen rivers before, of course. But they were the dead, ponderous rivers of the Underdark. The only sign of life the faint phosphorous glow of pale, bloated things with white, corpse eyes. But this...this was like nothing I had ever seen or imagined before. The water was...alive. Eddies and currents danced along the contours created by rocks and branches, spinning apart and then tangling together again, like desperate lovers. Here and there the river leapt into the air, throwing up tiny, brilliant diamonds. The moonlight flashed along the surface, creating a dazzling blanket of light that I couldn't bring myself to look away from, despite being nearly blinded.

I don't know how long I stood, entranced by the unexpected beauty of the river, but eventually I came to myself and continued my journey. I pushed myself hard, knowing I had lost valuable time and wanting to reach Julian's camp before the demon in the sky forced me to take cover.

I did. Only to find the camp deserted, the coals of the fire still warm. I had missed Julian by less than an hour. With a frustrated sigh, I began making my own camp amidst the remains of Julian's. As I lay in darkness, I planned my next night's journey. I was confident that I would catch up with Julian and his companions. After all, the only reason I had missed them was because I had lost so much at the river. So I told myself the first night.

The second night, when I once more entered a recently deserted camp, I told myself that I had obviously not pushed myself hard enough. The fifth night, I began to wonder at the coincidence. I pushed myself harder and harder every night, forcing myself to endure ever increasing amounts of light, pulling the deep folds of my cloak further forward in a vain attempt to shield my burning, watering eyes. On the seventh night, as I finally retreated to the blessed darkness of my tent, a realization hit me. He was doing this on purpose. Teasing me. Taunting me by staying barely one step ahead. Leading me on a fool's chase with those blasted eyes of his and false promises of companionship. Sitting with his companions, laughing at me. A low growl rose, unbidden, from deep in my chest. He'd regret his arrogance and cruelty.

He's a dead man.

[Ana]

Encounter

I pushed myself harder with each passing day. Traveling for ever increasing amounts of time under the blinding rage of the demon in the sky. I was so focused on my anger at Julian that I became blind to everything else around me. The trees, the flowers, even the river which had once enthralled me so, all faded beneath the intensity of my desire to get my hands around that cursed man's neck.

I had been traveling for two days when I encountered my first Overworld beast. It was during the earliest time of light, when the fire in the sky was only just beginning to kindle. As usual, I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings when I suddenly broke into a small clearing, startling the creature. I had never seen anything so odd looking in my life. Its body was sleekly muscled and covered with a smooth, tawny pelt, and it stood on four shockingly spindly legs. I almost laughed at the animal's absurd appearance, until I saw its weapons. From its head sprouted two clusters of pointed horns, each cluster consisting of 4-5 branches of smaller horns. An arraignment surely designed to to ensure a messy death for anyone impaled upon such wicked instruments. Its deceptively weak looking legs ended, not in a set of claws or paws, but in what appeared to be a razor sharp, solid mass of bone, easily capable of splitting an opponent's skull in half.

My hand crept to the dagger at my side as the monster and I stared at each other across the clearing. I don't know how long our standoff lasted, it felt like hours, before I saw the muscles bunch beneath the beast's smooth pelt, preparing for a deadly leap. I gripped my dagger tightly and crouched, prepared to defend my life. In a smooth, graceful movement, the monster leapt.....and passed by harmlessly to my right. As the creature disappeared into the forest, I loosened the grip on my dagger, although I remained alert for several minutes, waiting for the beast to return, this time with lethal intent. When it became clear that the monster had considered me beneath the effort it would take to kill me, I finally let go of my dagger and continued my journey. I considered myself lucky to have survived my first encounter with a Surface monster, and resolved to pay closer attention to my surroundings from now on.

[Ana]

Remembrance

Three weeks. Three weeks I’ve been following him, pushing myself ever farther into the nightmare brightness of the Overworld’s day, only to stumble, exhausted, into a never ending series of recently deserted campsites. My anger and frustration grew with each passing day and as I continued my journey, something…changed within me. My thoughts grew dark, my dreams filled with violent, bloody images. I was so consumed with anger that at times my sight seemed to blur, the edges of my vision taking on a bloody, red hue and I imagined I heard a dark voice whispering, urging me to find Julian and make him pay. As these episodes increased, a new emotion crept into my mind. Fear. Fear of what I would do when I finally caught up with Julian. Fear that I was becoming all too comfortable with the spider-hilt dagger at my side. Fear that I was losing my mind. Despite the fear, I pushed on. Memories of hauntingly beautiful music and a pair of dark, ever changing eyes would bring a wave of longing and hurt, closely followed by the anger that had become my constant companion. And I knew I had to find him. I had to make him pay. I had to know why.

I had stopped to eat a midday meal of water from the river, meat from a small, long eared animal I had brought down the night before and my newest treasure. A handful of large, sweet blackberries I had found growing on a nearby bush. I had tasted blackberries once before, as a child, and the thick, sweet taste brought back surprisingly pleasant memories.

The Matron of a rival House had invited my mother to dine with her and I, as the only daughter of our House, was invited along. The dinner was an elaborate affair, consisting of several rare delicacies brought back from a raid on a Surface elf village, the rarest being a huge bowl of plump, ripe blackberries. The atmosphere was tense, filled with political maneuvering, double meanings and thinly veiled threats, poorly hidden behind a façade of hospitality. I noticed none of it. All of my attention was taken by the delightful sweetness of the blackberries.

At the end of dinner my mother’s rival, having noticed how taken I was with the blackberries, gave me a handful of the treats to take home, smiling in what I thought was friendly indulgence. As we were headed home, I commented to my mother how nice it had been for the Matron to share such rare food with us. My mother looked at me with something very near to pity in her eyes, and not a little fear. She explained, speaking in that slow manner people tend to use around the simple, that the Matron hadn’t invited us to dinner to be nice, but to take the opportunity to assert her House’s dominance over ours. To flaunt, through her oh, so generous gift, the riches that our House lacked. I frowned down at the berries in my hand and declared that if they were meant to hurt her feelings then I wouldn’t eat any more of them. My mother’s eyes widened in surprise and she started at me so intently that I thought she was angry and was going to punish me for being slow, as she sometimes did. But, after a long moment, she simply sighed and shook her head, muttering under her breath about letting me spend too much time with my father. She hesitated a moment and then put her hand on my shoulder in an unusually gentle manner and told me to go ahead and eat the blackberries. After all, it would be rude to refuse such a generous gift. Too young, and shockingly naïve for a Drow child, to recognize the bitterness behind her words, I simply smiled and had happily devoured the blackberries by the time we returned home.

Nearly one hundred year later I sat, savoring once more the wonderful sweetness of blackberries and indulging in one of the few pleasant childhood memories I had. I was nearly finished with my meal, when a sound came drifting through the forest. A sound at once so foreign, yet so achingly familiar, that it took me a several moments to recognize it. Music. The same music that had drawn me from my cave so many weeks ago. His music. I sat in stunned silence for a moment before scrambling to my feet, the blackberries forgotten, and hurrying towards what I knew would be, one way or another, the end of my obsession.

[Ana]

Reserved

[Ana]

Reserved

Feel free to comment now. Be aware that there will eventually be more chapters after this though, so keep an eye out ^.^

[Suzerain of Sheol]

I'll take a look at this and give you some feedback when I get a chance, but it won't be until Monday, at least.

Anything in particular you're looking for comments on?

[Ana]

Thanks ^^ The main thing that I know is an issue is pacing and potentially continuity, since the chapters were written weeks, sometimes months apart. I also know I tend to be a bit... overly flowery, and I'm worried it can come across pretentious, so any suggestions on avoiding that are appreciated. Also, let me know if you notice any holes in descriptions and such. And general grammar issue, of course. The comma is my friend, lol.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Well, I just read through the first chapter, which looks to be the longest. I'm feeling kind of brain-dead at the moment, so I'll have to read the rest another time, but I will get to it.

So, I can't comment on it as a whole, or on issues of overall pacing or continuity at the moment, but I'll address those once I read the rest.

I *can* comment on the section I read, though.

First off, the good. Your actual writing didn't make me want to slam my head into my keyboard. (You'd be surprised how often that happens. :p) I don't remember seeing many, if any outright errors, so good job on that front. That's... more impressive to me than it probably should be.

And I'll say this, the story noticeably improved after the other characters got onto the stage. It's a lot more engaging when there's some kind of action to focus on, rather than just an internal monologue. I think you need to find some way to convey the information in the beginning a bit more concisely and in less space. The story feels like it drags for a bit.

On the flip side, you could, instead, draw that part out and make it more in the present, rather than Aria relating it as though it's already happen. If you make the audience get more invested in her situation, they won't mind the slow start as much.

On that note, I feel like I need to point this out, and you probably know this already, but you've chosen a *very* tired concept to base a story around. I'm not saying that to try and discourage you, but keep in mind that you're starting at a disadvantage here, as you need to somehow separate this story from Drizzt's story, or any of the other drow-to-surface tales that WotC have published over the years. That's going to be tough.

So, moving on to pretentiousness. I don't think I'd describe what I've read so far as pretentious or flowery at all, honestly. I've seen a lot worse. On the other hand, there are some issues with the writing, I think.

First, you're a bit heavy on adjectives and adverbs, and the effect is that it just slows down the narrative. A lot of them feel redundant or unnecessary, and I think in a lot of cases, you'd be well served taking a virtual red pen to the manuscript and crossing out words that don't change the meaning of their sentences if they're removed.

Second, some of the phrases you use in the narration are bit cliche. For example, "All-consuming fire," "without a parting word," "moment of truth," etc. Just in general, finding more inspired, fresher ways to say things certainly won't hurt your writing.

Third, the dialogue. It feels a tad clunky. Have you tried reading it out loud? I find that that works best. Without delving into detailed examples, for the most part, the characters don't really sound like real people when they talk. The dialogue is too formal and, sometimes, feels long-winded and drawn-out. You should probably working on shortening their sentences to make it more like a real conversation would be.

Now, some other minor things that stood out to me:

Technically speaking, hymns to Lloth wouldn't be considered blasphemies to the drow. Blasphemy require something holy to blaspheme against.

Also, Bard shouldn't be capitalized. I know this is FR, but still, it isn't a DnD game.

This next one is a bigger issue. I'm having a hard time believing this character at this point. You imply that she's at least over 100 years old, and that she's totally disgusted by drow culture, meaning that she'd stick out like a sore thumb in their society. How has she managed to survive this long without succumbing to the survival-of-the-fittest paradigm that governs their culture? If you look at Drizzt, he carries horrible psychological damage and nearly succumbed himself on numerous occasions, despite living in Menzo. for a far shorter span of time.

And, that brings me to my last point. It is just... really hard to get into this story, having read the Drizzt books and the other drow books from WotC. It feels really "been there, done that" and at the moment, I don't see anything innovative enough to make up for that. When you mention her considering fending for herself in the wild, I don't know if it's supposed to be an in-joke or some kind of subtle nod to Exile, but it just doesn't work right. It feels like you're taking that same element for your story, even if she doesn't end up pursuing that option.



Well, I hope that wasn't too harsh. I don't think you're a poor writer at all, and with some tightening up, this could probably turn into a solid story, it's just... you've set yourself to a daunting task, choosing to tell this particular kind of story, and it's not going to be easy to get past that initial stigma.

Best of luck with it, though, and I'll get to the rest and comment on it as a whole as soon as I can. :)

[Ana]

Thanks for the input. ^^ I'll have to re-read it a few times to take everything into consideration but I can definitely see the points you're making. I actually do have plans for Aria that, I feel, help differentiate her from he-who-spawned-1000-good-aligned-Drow XD Dialogue is definitely an issue for me and something I know I need to work on.

I like the way you described my style as overly adverbed. I think you hit it on the head. I knew pretentious wasn't quite right to describe it and your observation helped me really focus on what I need to work on and clarify my issues.

As for her views that don't seem to mesh with her Drow upbrining, most of them come from another influence in her youth that I realize I should refer to earlier so that those kinds of things make more sense.

Thanks again for your critique. I really found it helpful in identifying areas I need to work on while still encouraging me to keep working. ^^

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Haven't read anything else in the thread yet, just have to say this:

"Will it never end? Will I ever be truly free from the darkness?"

This line, here. Get rid of it. Make it go away. Now. Send it to the darkest pit in the lowest realm of Baator to never again bleed from the nip of a well intentioned pen!

Okay, got that out. I started reading through the beginning of your story but came to a screeching hault at the above line, mostly because it's a very common and very cliched comment. I've seen it a number of times in writing and if one thinks about it, it really doesn't add anything to the story. We can see from the character's actions that she's unsure of herself and afraid of the sun, and we can tell from the fact that she's trying to leave the underdark in the first place that she has something he's trying to get away from. The line adds nothing new in terms of story information as far as that goes.

As for as emotion goes, which might be part of the purpose, it really doesn't do much either, since as a simple lament the emotional impression is flat. It gives the impression of hopelessness, which to the reader isn't true because if she's trying to get away from the underdark in the first place, obviously she has some hope of escape, and since we don't know what the character has been through up until now, it ultimately means nothing and just sounds like the character is whining.

It might -heck, it does- sound like I'm putting a lot of thought into one line of text, but this is one of those lines/sentiments that I see a lot in stories and really just adds dead weight to a piece. There's no need to replace it with anything. I believe the paragraph is a lot stronger with out.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Um, yeah, add that line to the list of examples I gave for cliches. Right at the top. That's the only line that's really an offender as far as cliches go. The others could stay without dragging down the writing too far.

Just a general suggestion for writing, use the word "darkness" very carefully. :p

[Ana]

Hehe, note taken. Looks like I've got a lot of work to do before this is ready for public consumption, lol

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Oh, this just caught my eye, but your title, "Shadow Marked" should probably be either one word, "Shadowmarked," hyphenated, "Shadow-Marked". Though, you don't see many hyphenated titles...

[Ana]

Hmm... I'll have to think about that. It's just a working title anyway, so I'm not too worried about it.