To the Future
To the future,
My name is Matron Mother Eol, and I am the leader of the elven tribe known in legend as the Drow or Eldren or Svartaelf, in our old tongue – the Moriquendi. I write this letter in despair, for I know the coming centuries will be hard on my people, and I doubt I will ever see our native world, this beloved Albion, again.
We have been prosecuted, hounded and named traitor by our high and wood-elven brethren, for not partaking in their ancient enmity of the Yrrch, or orc in the common tongue. This is not our battle, for we follow the path of true neutrality and we do not harm that which has not harmed us. Orcs, whilst fierce, can be easily avoided and the battle against them we feel is unjust. When presented with this stance the followers of good grew angry and, folly of follies, declared us an enemy. They fell upon with blind fury, catching us unawares and killing many innocents with their eldritch fire. Having no defence against their mages we fled, and tried again to present our case. My own son I sacrificed, sending him alone to the high elves where he was tried, and executed as a spy.
In our darkest hour a mighty deity came to us, Lady Lolth, promising us the power to summon mighty creatures from the Abyss and a land to call our own. So now we flee, to a realm called the Shadowfell, to await the time we may return and re-join our brothers in this great land.
You who read this in the future, know this, I speak the truth. We will return, and we will not again abandon the star filled night skies of this blessed isle.