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[Marek Marlou]

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Marek had ventured to the cave where it all started. The cave that he ended up in after the magic expirament that day in the true Underdark.

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The drow priestess pushed Marek forward roughly, not bothering to ask him to move first. Such was life in the Underdark. Men were useless there. The priestess were practacing something new, a new kind of gating technique that gated... well, who knows where. They were throwing some of the males in, in hopes that they would come back through, perhaps with something useful to them in a few days. It was not a problem if they didn't come back, males were useless afterall.

Marek, dressed in nothing but a tattered grey robe, was pushed into the gate roughly. He fell, and fell and fell, till he hit something. It felt like he fell forever, but the pain told him he had barely fallen over. He turned to where he had entered the cave to see a swirling black vortex, much like the one he was just pushed through. The vortex shuddered and closed, leaving marek helpless there.

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That was almost a year ago, Marek thought. He was laying against a sloping rock formation, just a few feet off the ground, watching the place where he had entered. So long ago, he thought. Do I even want to go back...?

Marek sat up and curled up, his knees to his chest, rather childishly, still watching the spot he landed. The soil had not been disturbed yet, by no warrior nor miner. The ore in the cave was of poor quality, and if you did not know where to go, you would die a most horrible death, due to the overwhelming number of creatures there.

Marek took off the blue sash he was wearing. This sash, he had found here, just two weeks earlier. It smelled of home: death and blood. Something about it made him keep it; even made him wear it. He lazily held it in front of him, watching it flutter in a gentle breeze. "Have I really gone soft? Have I forgotten the ways of home?" he asked himself. He thought of the other drow he had found living here. He could think of no stories of dissapearing drow in his underdark. The females at least. Males dissapeared left and right if they didn't obey an order quick enough. He wondered how long these other drow had been here, even if they were from the same Underdark as him. Perhaps there were more, in other worlds?

Marek watched the sash flutter in the breeze again. He decided to put it, and his cloak back on. Wait, Marek thought. There is no breeze in caves!

Marek grabbed his heavy crossbow, what he knew would be the easiest to fire upon just being picked up. He turned to where the breeze came from, cursing himself for how soft the surface had made him. There was a small, black vortex, spinning right where he had come from, so long ago. It shuddered, as if it was difficult to keep it opened.

The hole was too small for a person to fit through. It opened more. The smell of home... The smell of death and blood flowed through. There was raised voices coming through the hole. Voices speaking drowish. Just fragments, nothing understandable. The hole began to close slowly. Then, another raised voice, a familiar one that cought Marek's ear. The gate closed slower.

A minuite later, marek heard a familiar sound. An arrow! He jumped back, clearing a path for the blazing fast arrow. The hole shuddered, then dissapeared. The arrow stuck in the stone. Marek ran to it. He could not dislodge the arrow that had been fired so powerfully, it even stuck in the ore that the greatest of miners dared not try to mine. There was a note attatched to it.

Shaking slightly, Marek took the letter. He realised how childish he was being, and closed his eyes in meditation a moment, to rid himself of the anxiety and dread he had of this letter.

He opened his eyes, and unrolled the note. It was on black parchment, in silver ink, the blood of some exotic underdark animal, perhaps. He read the familiar handwriting, and the familiar signature at the bottom.

Marek's bow clattered to the ground, followed quietly by the dropped letter, then followed moments later by Marek dropping to his knees.

Marek was staring at the floor in deep thought.

"But..," Marek said, to no one in particular. "But... sister... You are to come to this world?"
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