>>5430023The other Drow who capture your attention does so more for their animal companion than for their own aptitude: Hamaraska, the centipede lancer. This dark elf is no notable specimen at a glance, not exceptional in any physical way except perhaps for a particular darkness of skin and eye, but of all the arthropod allies you have glimpsed among the Drow thus far, none hold a candle to his (her? their?) centipede.
The bug is truly MASSIVE, a fifteen-foot-long creature by your estimate. Though its thin body—like overlapping plates—renders it likely closer to your own weight and strength, it is capable of supporting the small elf. It obeys its riders clicked or whispered commands unfalteringly, and with swiftness and precision that allows the Drow knight to travel up and down the line of soldiers with great ease and expediency... Even upside down, for Hamaraska’s IMPRESSIVELY thick and powerful thighs allow the Drow to cling it the centipede through any contortion of its flexible body, and the lancer never seems to grow dizzy from the rising and falling , flipping and twisting which accompanies such a peculiar mount. Wielding a long lance—dried and treated mushroom stock, with a surface-dagger for a head—you surmise that Hamaraska is not just a deadly cavalryman, but the ONLY sort of cavalryman who could exist and succeed in the often narrow and circuitous tunnel-systems of the deep places.
You ask Hamaraska how they thus tamed the creature so effectively, and how long they have owned the centipede.
“I don’t own Honemdyn,” the dark Drow softly speaks. “We are friends, since we were young. “
It… Doesn’t really answer your question, but Hamaraska doesn’t elaborate, and soon enough you are too occupied to inquire further.
“Ghouls!”
