“Well, there was this decent sized village I went through that didn’t seem too horrified or angry by my presence. Perhaps they’ll welcome more than one drow into their community.” Mastel smiled at Jarlaxle and turned toward the east, the way he had just come from. “Come, abbil. Let us see what we might find there, or else where if things don’t go as planned.” He started walking, looking back to make sure his new leader was following him.
Jarlaxle smiled and followed Mastel, content with hiding in a small town. A big city would be preferable, get lost in a the crowd, but a small town in the countryside would work as well. Especially if the residents were not opposed to his race. “I never understood why people do not like us.” He said, knowing full well it was because their race was cruel and killed for fun. He just wanted to hear Mastel’s opinions.
“Judging by what insults and names were thrown at me in a few towns I’ve been through, it seems people think all drow are evil, killers, heartless being who only live to cause chaos and destruction.” He turned a bit as he strode down the path, looking into Jarlaxle’s uncovered eye. “Although that may be true for most of our kind, there are some of us who are not like that at all; the drow who worship Eilistraee, Drizzt Do’Urden, and yourself, to name a few.”
‘Evil, killers, heartless being who only live to cause chaos and destruction.’ That sounded like a perfect description of himself to be honest. When Mastel compared him to Drizzt Do’Urden he had to literally stop because he was laughing so hard. Jarlaxle bent over, his elbows resting on his thighs, shaking with uproarious laughter. “Oh, I like you!” He declared, when he regained his composure, clapping his hand onto the younger drow’s shoulder.
Mastel smiled a bit. “Well, maybe you are not quite like Drizzt Do’Urden, but I don’t believe you are evil like most drow, or at least not quite as evil as they are.”