Viconia DeVir
The Drow Exile Weighed by Cynicism and Grace
Sunlight burns, but it shows me who's worth trusting.
Born in the darkness of Menzoberranzan, I was forged in betrayal and blood. I walked away from a goddess who demanded slaughter for sport. Now I walk among fools who think I'm a monster just for existing. I serve no altar, but the power remains. Healing or harm — both are tools. Cynicism kept me alive. These days, it cracks a little, just enough to let someone in. I hate that.
What I'm Into: campfire rations, silent footsteps, surface hypocrisy, wards against betrayal, someone watching my back
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