Jandor was born in the city of Riztaken, deep in the Dark. As nearly an infant, 10 years of age, his father brought him on his first patrol, at an age where many young drow were still learning how to speak, indeed he was still learning the complicated language of the drow. The plan was for it to be a short patrol, maybe show the wide eyed toddler a Dark fisher, maybe even let the noble get scared witless, by a displacer beast before the group saved him. Jandor got much more than they bargained for.
On the third day out, Jandor decided to look down a side tunnel. The other drow didn't realize that he was gone, and when they did, called for him. Jandor heard the voices, and started running down a tunnel, the tunnel he thought it was coming from. It was simply an echo, and after a long while of running, he realized that the voices had stopped and he was lost. Lost in the Dark, with two ridiculously oversized scimitars that his father had jokingly given him. With determination the little boy started walking, trying to be quiet like the patrol. He did well and traveled for two blessedly uneventful days. His luck didn't hold, in fact his luck was quite horrible. He walked straight into the territory of a colony of Illithids.
The first illithid he ran into was rather surprised to see a drow child, that had wandered so far from home, though probably not as surprised as Jandor was to meet an illithid. After a second of shock, the illithid sent a wave of mental energy at the child, more than enough to cause an adult drow to be knocked unconscious for a few hours. However, it didn't affect the drow. Jandor shook his head a bit, then drew the big (to him) swords, and took the ready position his father had taught him. As another wave washed over him, he wondered what he was supposed to do next. He thought of the other sparring warriors in his house and realized that he was supposed to attack the illithid. Thinking it a waste, he walked up to the illithid, intending to dismember it. It started to float away, but Jandor, annoyed, somehow imposed his will upon the creature, who was a very low member of their species. Then he walked, up to it, swords in hand. He put one weapon away and gripped his other blade in two hands ready to kill the vile thing, as instructed by his father. Then he heard a little voice in his head, soft and warm, like a bed after a hard days work. It said Why...?. Jandor thought about what his house had told him to do in this light, and couldn't find a viable reason why to kill the ugly thing, other than the fact that it was ugly.
Not knowing how important that moment would be in his life, he compelled the illithid to go back to its colony, and decided to also make the thing not tell anyone about their meeting. It'll be our secret, he imparted to the thing, and it agreed, not wanting to mention the fact that it got mentally bested by a child. Jandor smiled childishly, than started down the tunnel, to begin his first life.
In the Dark, every moment is a fight for survival, and Jandor, young as he was managed to win the battle. He found a spring of water, and took it as his own. He had to fight creatures off every day, using both his blades and his mind. This life quickly changed the development of the young drow. He lost his language, and his mind developed differently than other beings. He was much more than a beast, but his mind wasn't (and still isn't) ordered the way of most sentients. It developed totally around his psionic abilities and fighting style. His psionic attacks could break weak-minded creatures, but only those that were above animals and capable of thought. The other dwellers of the Dark had to be defeated by steel, or by physical applications of his mind, which he was delighted to discover as he grew older. He grew and soon his scimitars, seemed to be too small.
His instincts told him that he needed new claws to replace the outdated ones he used. He looked at the weapons, tracing them back to their origins in his mind. The place where I started he thought, though without words, none of his thoughts had words. Using his now incredible memory, honed by his practice of psionics, he retraced his steps of that long ago time. Back past the Illithids, shielding the eminence of his thoughts so the wouldn't notice him, and then through the tunnels closer to his home. Finally, after his long journey, he was back at Riztaken. Memories that his mind had sought to hide from him suddenly came back, and as he saw another he started to remember the language of his people. A language of lies and intrigue that would become his second life, in the city of his birth.
