1. Preface: An Introduction
2. Chapter 1: In the beginning
3. Chapter 2: Drow Society
4. Chapter 3: The Enlightenment
5. Chapter 4: Immortality
6. Chapter 5: The Drow Jihad
7. Chapter 6: Beyond the head of revenge
8. Afterword: A note from the Shadowlord

As the fluffy may clouds roll by outside my window, I set pen to paper in an endeavor to tell a tale that has been lost in time, a tale that mustneeds be told now, lest it slip away into obscurity for all times. Thus it is with a great sense of purpose and responsibility that I, Jemidon Erid, High Bard of The Fated, put down (with his permission, of course) the history of our lord, Mouseglove, the aptly titled Shadowlord of Intrigue, but alas, I get ahead of myself already. I shall begin as he began for me: at the beginning.

Mouseglove (although that was not his name at that time) began life as the only son of the first house of the drow city of Quallezzon, which was the capitol of the drow empire at the time. It was located, as all drow cities are, far beneath the surface of the realm, in that lightless environ known simply as 'The Underdark'. This city lay far beneath the surface mecca known as Aria and, like it's distant relation on the surface, was a port city to the Great Velvet Sea, so named for it's smooth, black texture.

Mouseglove's childhood was nothing special, to hear him tell of it, but it should be noted that he was a quick study at magic, and a very quick child, even by drow standards, in all things dextrous and agile. He soon rose to a position of some importance as a spy for his house who's duties included infiltrating other drow houses to gather information and return it to his Matron Mother, who hungered eternally for more and more ammunition with which she might bring down those two houses ahead of her in the city's rankings.

[Editorial Note: When Jemidon speaks of drow houses, he does not mean physical structures, but more of social castes. First house was the ruling class, second house was the guard, third house was the magicians, etc. That is a gross oversimplification, but for those who are unfamiliar with the workings of drow society and culture, it will suffice.]

Drow age much more slowly than other races, save the other elves, and thus it was many years before Mouseglove achieved 'manhood' in the eyes of his race. It was at about this time that he began to notice a difference between himself and his fellow drow. While they delighted in cruelty and torture, in proving time and time again to those around them that they were superior, Mouseglove was more inclined to quiet contemplation, and power through knowledge. He soon became the most well informed drow in the city, a fact that did not escape those who sought him out for a piece of that information. It was this love of information and power over self through knowledge that unwittingly set him moving down the path that was to shape his destiny.

One of the 'priviledges' that marked the first house was the ability to venture to the surface with raiding parties, and the ability to keep whatever (or whoever) was brought back. Thus it was that Mouseglove learned of the enslavement of the Pixies by the Matron Mother of the First House of the city. Fascinated at what those creatures might be able to teach him (for he had never been outside the underdark, and seldom away from the city), he sought out one of the slaves and attempted to befriend him. It took many monthes to convince the enslaved creature that he was not like those who delighted in torture, but was rather a student of knowledge who sought to know all that he could. In time, he came to know a bit about the culture and lore of these diminuitive creatures, and he came to respect their ways and their ability to master their environment without forcing themselve upon it.

Not long afterwards, his small companion was killed, slaughtered in a malicious form of entertainment which the First Mother viewed with great pleasure and sadistic glee. Not long afterwards, pixie slaves began showing up in all of the houses in the city. Mouseglove went to his Mother and attempted to explain to her what he had learned, and suggested that they be treated more as employed servants rather than slaves, hoping that with the better treatment, he might befriend more of them and learn yet more of their culture.

Unfortunately, his mother was a narrow-minded drow like the rest of his race, and she laughed at him, chastized him for what she perceived as a weakness, pointed out to him that he was but a mere male, and sent him into the underdark on a raiding mission, more to get him out of her way than to serve any real purpose.

[Editorial Note: In drow culture, the females are the dominant political and social ruling sex, and the males are the secondary, subserviant gender.]

Furious at wh saw as a gross misconduct, for he had no taste for torture, h, he fumed and cursed as he wandered the underdark alone, having spurned the offer of companions for this particular mission. It was out in the caverns outside his city that he had what he calls his "enlightenment". A voice spoke to him from out of nowhere, in his native tongue, and asked him why he swore and ranted. Thinking this one of his people under the guise of invisibility, he offered up a weakly composed rhetoric on the lack of power of males in his society, a dangerous viewpoint to expose, but a common one nonetheless. The speaker listed, chuckled, and asked him if he would like to tell the truth instead, and stated that the reason for Mouseglove's wrath was already known, but it needed to be spoken out loud.

Fearing the wrath of the house who was sponsoring this 'wizard', but knowing that his heart had been spied upon, Mouseglove told the unseen entity his concerns for the pixies, his disappointment with the others of his family, and his distaste for the way the drow conducted themselves with regards to other races. The entity said nothing for a time, and then, without a sound (as Mouseglove himself put it), "the universe expanded within my head". He found that he had been granted limited divine power, and that his very thoughts could become reality if he concentrated enough on them. Indeed, all of his newfound abilities lay before him like a book to be read, and he tried them all, with varying degrees of success, while all the time looking for the unseen entity who had granted him this power. The entity was nowhere to be seen, and no more communication with it ensued.

After a time, Mouseglove remembered the plight of the slaves and the cruelty of his people, and returned to his home with but a thought. Willing himself not to be seen by the other members of the city, he began travelling about in search of the slaves. When he reached the interior of the first house, he found that the slaves had revolted and escaped, and that the entire infrastructure of the drow society was in an uproar. So accustomed to the presence of the slaves had the drow become, that they were hard pressed to function without them.

Soon, it became abundantly clear that the members of the first, second and third houses meant to mount a counterattack to return the slaves to their masters. Infuriated by the thought that such an atrocity might be perpetrated twice upon the same culture, Mouseglove willed himself to float to the top of the cavern that housed Quallezzon, and will himself visible. With a mighty roar, he proclaimed the enslavement of other species to be outlawed, and stated that from the current day forward, he would be the new spokesperson for the drow race to the other species of the realms.

The battle that ensued was long and vicious, with the drow throwing all that they had at the newborn deity, and Mouseglove struggling to counter their attacks with his still unfamiliar power. Finally, in a last effort to bring the conflict to a halt, Mouseglove called upon the only power he had not yet attempted, knowing that if he was successful, he would bring an everlasting doom down upon the city. He implored the denizens of the houses to cease their attacks, but in their sadistic rage, they ignored him. With his last ounce of energy, he uttered the words that would bring down the city. What happened next he will not speak of. I can see the pain in his eyes when he remembers what happened, and to see a god in such pain is a truly unpleasant thing.

To this day, Mouseglove will only say that the entire city was devastated and twisted, lying now forever in ruins haunted by creatures of death and magic. He hopes that no one ever finds the remains of it, for it has become a place more haunted and corrupted than ever before.

Throughout the next few centuries, Mouseglove rose to a high level of responsibility in the heavenly heirchy, becoming the chief scout of the new areas that would form periodically in the realms. (Note: It seems that the dreams and thoughts of the immortals become the realities of the mortal world, and every new domain that appears remains seperated from the mortal world until it is deemed safe for exploration. Mouseglove is the one who certifies that they have been "tamed" enough for the mortal world to enter and explore.)

To this day, Mouseglove maintains that power over self through knowledge is the key to a worthwhile existance, and has adopted the moniker of "The Shadowlord of Intrigue" due to his interest in the inner workings of each and every society and organization in the realms. His knowledge is, as always, open to all who ask, and he continues his work with the assistance of his clan, a group of mortals equally as dedicated to the pursuit of aquiring knowledge.

(This clan is known as The Fated, but I will not discuss them here, that is another subject for another time.)

This is the word of my master, set down in my hand as it was told to me. May it further the knowledge of his origins and understanding of his motives for time eternal. May information reign supreme in our lives forever. -Jemidon Erid, High Bard of The Fated

[Editorial Note: I have, since my ascendance to godhood, continued my search for the mysterious entity who granted me the power of divinity initially. To this day, I have been unable to uncover any trace of him or her, and it remains my most significant untold mystery. This does not mean, however, that I have stopped trying. Perhaps it was the voice of destiny, or perhaps the mysterious overlord of the gods that some speak about in hushed whisper, I do now know...yet. With time, I shall uncover the secret knowledge contained in my own existance. Until then, I remain, ever watchful, Mouseglove.]