"Who am I?"

A question more tricky to answer then one first might think.
I'm not a last survivor of a once grand and magnificent House, nor the less romantic version of a lone drow.
However I was wealthy, even rich.
But one could argue that the only reason I'm sill alive is because I have made myself needed amongst my .. peers.
Not myself, no no , but my skills and talents are hard to replace and you can be sure I never taught any of my students to the extend that they would level my own abilities.
And I trained many a student who later became great.
For someone in my position, with my ... how do we say *smiles* ; resentment against certain aspects of the clergy, it would be less then wise to have done so.
And to be replaced by one of my students .. someone with my abilities but with a mind that has yet to be molded and formed.
I don't think so.
I can and will teach them if they so dearly wish, but I will teach them what I want them to teach, wich might or might not be the same as what they wished to gain from my lessons.
I'm quite comfortable where I am now.
Then again ... competition arises.
Having survived a feeble attempt on my life through poison by some lowlife.
But now .. the Warmage who calls himself Malad.
Perhaps I should let the arachnomancer challenge him before he ever becomes a problem, if he's victorious, he can be given to that little priestess.
A token of my ... goodwill, and so he is away from me .. and my position.
Warmages, however their mana reach is similar to any wizzard, their spells are more destructive and detrimental then the "ordinary" practicer of the arcane, yet lacking of subtlety.
Often in the domain of Fire.
My own spells are difficult to spot. Fluent, vibrant and athmospheric.
Who ever pays that much attention to the movements of the wind when a sword is pointed at your face ?
Could you have guessed the movements of the wind is more real then the illusion of the sword ?
Or that the wind just whispered such waking dream into your mind?
I did never had to study as many a wizzard to attain the feeling of magic.
It was already there, the arcane within my grasp, the only thing I had to do was to extend that grasp.
My own domain is that of Air, that wich is fleeting as as my own reveries.
A domain wish is considered, inferiour to study because of it's .. lack of harmful abilities.
I call that shortsighted and narrowminded.
A slow working poison has "more or less" the same result then a butcherknife.
And Mind *gives a small chuckle* for wich I did had to study long and hard, yet never equalled my abilities in the domain of Air, wich was innate one could say.
There is nobody that can manipulate it the way I can, in a way that is hardly ever noticed.
How I can make it dance with itself and someone's senses, making the unwitting target nothing more then a slave of those senses.
It's sorcery, my dear.
That's exactly what it is.
And unlike the clergy, we only have one desire; wich is to be allowed to exist.
A fortune for us and likes of us, is that we are indeed needed to acces those levels of magic that are never revealed to the divine spellcaster .. such as a yathrin.
A misfortune for me, that it does not favor my gender, certainly it's not forbidden, prohibitted or in any way a taboe but as do all unwritten laws it's ... felt.
Dissaprovement is noticable and often even outright.
It matters not, their path is not mine.
For I such as any yathrin .. or any Ilythiiri even, feels Lloth's claws in her soul and Her voice in her mind. I go wherever She sees fit for me to go. And I did.