'It would be delightful to have a soft cushion.'
That is what the half-drow thought, contemplating their circumstances as they sat on multiple times folded bedroll spread over the grimy stone paving the ground of the subterranean camp beneath the gray city.
This specific spot the stones were relatively dry, thanks to the small campfire kept in the chamber housing multiple crude tents that the local residents - herself included - used for some semblance of privacy. Generally however, the stone that made the celling, walls and floor of the sewer chambers were slick with moist, grime and water leaked from the celling.
It was disgusting, really, but those who lived down here rarely did it by choice. Every cycle, she would deal with the Caliban, the deformed monstrocities born out of humans, twisted by "witchcraft" while still in the womb and thrown away in horror by those that birthed then. The human nature was resilient, however, and the twisted wouldn't simply lie down and die. No, they "thrived"... Well, no. Rather: They cling to life and survived beyond the sight of the creatures that had brought them into this world.
Since she had been thrown into this world, Sarat hadn't had much choice in the matter either. She was what the locals called "Dark Fey", a creature of myth, legend and an object of hatered and fear. Well, not exactly. In truth, she was only a half-breed, a creature born when a wench hadn't had the heart to end the ashed-skin creature they had brought into the world. An abomination in the eyes of both Human and Drow, many perhaps thought she had no place to live. However, the human nature was resilient. It wanted to survive. She was no different.
It had not been easy, living on the streets of Calimport, that labyrinthine city spanning for miles over the southern edge of Calim desert. Few humans looked favorable upon the Drow, and saw little difference between a half-breed and a full-blooded one, even if originally only waist-height to them. However, she had. Turns out that seeing in the dark has it advantages.
