Station: In all the world of the drow, there is no more important word.
It is the calling of their-of our-religion, the incessant pulling of hungering
heartstrings. Ambition overrides good sense and compassion is thrown
away in its face, all in the name of Loth, the Spider Queen.
Ascension to power in drow society is a simple process of assassination.
The Spider Queen is a diety of chaos, and she and her high priestesses,
the true rulers of the drow world, do not look with ill favor upon ambitious
individuals wielding poisoned daggers.
Of course, there are rules of behavior; every society must boast of these.
To openly commit murder or wage war invites the pretense of justice, and
penalities exacted in the name of drow justice are merciless. To stick a
dagger in the back of a rival during the chaos of a larger battle or in the
quiet shadows of any alley, however, is quite acceptable-even applauded.
Investigation is not the forte of drow justice. No one cares enough to bother.
Station is the way of Loth, the ambition she bestows to further the chaos, to
keep her drow "children" along their appointed course of self-imprisonment.
Children? Pawns, more likely, dancing dolls for the Spider Queen, puppets
on the imperceptible but impervious strands of her web. All climb the Spider
Queen's ladder; all hunt for her pleasure; and all fall to the hunters of her
pleasure.
Station is the paradox of the world of my people, the limitation of our power
within the hunger for power. It is gained through treachery and invites treachery
against those who gain it. Those most powerful in Menzoberranzan spend
their days watching over their shoulders defending against the daggers that
would find their backs.
Their deaths usually come from the front.
