-The Drow Rogue-

"Let go of me," Sszerin hissed. His arms hung uselessly at his sides, his legs refusing to obey, as he lay limply in his would-be rescuer's arms. "I will not be beholden to an outsider!"

His words were venomous, but paralyzed as he was, he posed no threat at all. He'd never been so powerless, and he hated it. The only thing he could do was lie still and watch, helpless, as the outsider carried him through the Underdark.

Sszerin's entire life had been dedicated to clawing his way up drow society, attaching himself to whatever powerful woman he could, and using her strength to advance himself. It was the only way for a male to survive. And now, his city had been raided by outsiders; his current mistress, a Reverend Daughter of Lolth, was dead. And her killer was holding him captive.

He was furious. He'd been close, so close to becoming consort to the Reverend Mother—the highest position he could've hoped for, short of courting the matriarch herself. And this filthy outsider had taken everything away from him.

But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even move. And now no doubt he would be chained down, like his pathetic brother Ryleth, except by lesser races instead of fellow drow. His continued insults did nothing to dissuade his captor, though. The outsider didn't even look at him.