Cyndre

Cyndre. Now there is an enigma. Most people see him for what he is on the outside. He's the darkest drow I've ever seen. And his eyes hold a terrible, frightening look. Being the rogue that he is, and his ruthless reputation, I can see why most people fear and hate him.

But I've glimpsed a tiny bit of Cyndre that's on the inside. Polite, orderly... one might even say honorable in the ways rogues can be. When I first came to Exile, back when the world was young, Cyndre was the first person I met. The first drow I ever met, too. I was young and green, still wet behind the ears. One look at him told me that Death would thank me for my gift if I met him in a dark alley. That turned out not to be the case. I was terribly hungry, and Cyndre promised me a bit of bread if I were to tell him a story. I don't even remember what I said. But, he smiled, and gave me that loaf of bread. Then he did me one better. He pulled an opal-encrusted cutlass from his sack and gave it to me.

"You need something to defend yourself with in this world," he told me.

And he smiled, and went on his way. Being the person he is, I can see why the mother of his child loves and adores him.

--Brenna Scott, storyteller extraordinaire