Setting

[End of the World]

The story so far...

You have never seen the sun.  More accurately, you suspect it's probably a fable meant to give hope to the hopeless.

Your "home" is the city of Erelhei-Cinlu, the great city of the Drow.  You were either born a slave or sold here in your early life.  You have few memories of your family and little knowledge of your own people.  Even so, your masters quickly separated you out from the cattle as a skilled person with exceptional abilities and paid to have you trained, so that you would fetch a higher price from your next owner.

Most recently, you were sold to the "Arvedral" family, members of "Clan Bars" one of the great merchant clans of the Drow, and allied with the recently ascendant "Eilserv" noble family.  To enforce your loyalty, you were placed under a great geas in a ritual.  For one year and one day, you must obey the ritual's given directives, or likely die in short order from the consequences.  Not that you had any hope of freedom after that - naturally, the spell would be renewed.

Specifically and in order, to the best of your ability:
1) Obey all orders from any member of the Arvedral family.
2) Serve and protect any and all members of the Avedral family.

Even as an exceptional servant of the family, life was not pretty.  You are considered a lesser species, unworthy of real consideration or empathy... if the Drow ever had any to begin with.  You were a tool to be used, or misused, according to any whim or desire your masters might have.  When you outlived your usefulness, another use would be found for you.  For example, some necromancers prefer their bodies very fresh.

But today, you got your break.  Your mistress's daughter, Pouhadaf, wanted an escort to take her (in disguise) to meet her lover away from her mother's prying eyes.  She took the group of you, giving you the order to protect her and "you will tell mother nothing about this trip."  However, the trip ended unexpectedly.  While passing through a slum, a fight broke out between a city patrol and a drunken troll.  A stray crossbow bolt ended stuck in your charge's arm.  The bolt was not deadly, but the poison was.

Reviewing your orders, you realized you didn't need to return to your household.  Immediately afterwards, one of you pointed out that while still obeying the stipulations of the geas, you could live as free men and women.  Before the guard patrol had finished the troll, you had escaped down an alley way and hidden yourselves.

[End of the World]

Erelhei-Cinlu seen from the north side.  The "Great Gate" is shown on the far side, leading to the farms, the 16 merchant villas (strongholds) and the various exits from the vault.  The "Noble Gate" is shown on the near side, leading to the flying bridge over the Pitchy Flow, beyond which are the noble estates of the eight houses, and the great fane of Lolth.

>>> (original description?)

Beyond the brass gates sprawls Erelhei-Cinlu, the ageless seat of the dark elves" power. For uncounted aeons, the city has spread like a cankerous growth in the bowels of the earth, fed by the undying hate of the drow and watered by the leperous light of the Vault. The chaotic city seems to grow like a forest of fungi beneath the disturbing violet glow, weird shadows and shapes bending in the fey gloom. The architecture is bizarre, the buildings and streets weaving into a thick maze of overhanging balconies and gates. It is sometimes hard to distinguish the structures from the ubiquitous glowing growths that coat them. The streets are made of tightly­ laid mauve bricks; they gleam with the sheen of moisture, and it is not uncommon to find long cold pools of standing water along their length, and muddy ponds at intersections. Street corners are illuminated by the unhealthy glow of fire beetles and witch-fire. The overwhelming sense is of unending decay.

Odd lights pierce the gloom from curtained windows, flickering points of red, gold and blue. Strange chimes and inhuman instruments join to create a cacophony of unease and dread. Before cloistered storefronts hang luminous plaques bearing alien runes. Dark-garbed figures walk the slick streets on unknown errands, while green­cloaked foreigners furtively skulk with evil designs.

The dark elves walk the streets openly here, resplendent in hues of violet, black and fitigin, the darkest of all colors. The nobles ride about in abominable carriages, without heed to pedestrians, some drawn by charcoal-black horses with licks of blue flame for eyes and tongues, others drawn by things far worse. All manner of wicked creatures throng the tangled thoroughfares of Erelhei Cinlu. Dark-visaged magi rub shoulders with derro, goblinoids, ogres and illithids. Here and there, vile fey creatures flit about the lights and crooked rooftops. Ghastly things gibber and pounce in the shadows. Fiends walk abroad, scattering all except the drow before them.

All about are curious shops, open-air tables of bizarre and occult wares for sale, steaming apothecaries, noisome taverns and dangerous unlit clubs. Yet, even more common are the houses of decadence, where the dark elves drink in and delight in the torment, anguish and pain of others. You pass by the glazed stares of those beyond all hope at the slave markets, the bordellos, the torture parlors, vivisection saloons, blood-sport clubs and even less savory places. There is no love here, no joy. There is neither delight nor bliss. There is only despair and hate. This is Erelhei-Cinlu: all hope dies here.