Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“Yes, and that they were not Lolthians, that their society was neither cruel nor unjust. Quite the opposite, for if what Freewindle told me in his rambling tales of these drow is true, we have come upon a society that is egalitarian and moral, a place where you survive because you can rely on others and where they survive because they know they can rely on you. Do you now understand what such a promise means to me, who had to survive Menzoberranzan?”
― R.A. Salvatore, Starlight Enclave

“To become a drider again was the worst torture she could imagine. Every day, every movement, was pain. No thought independent of the eternal shackles—a mere notion of turning against any drow loyal to Lolth would send wracking agony through a drider. There was no free will, no beauty, no hope, no cessation of the mental anguish and torment. It was a curse that did not lessen with time, a curse against which neither the mind nor the body could numb itself.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Glacier's Edge

“Nearly every dark elf in Menzoberranzan dressed in a quiet and practical manner, in robes adorned with the symbols of the Spider Queen or in supple chain-link armour under the folds of a magical and camouflaging piwafwi cloak.

Jarlaxle, arrogant and brash, followed few of the customs of Menzoberranzan inhabitants. He was mostly certainly not the norm of drow society and he flaunted the differences openly, brazenly. He wore not a cloak nor a robe, but a shimmering cape that showed every color of the spectrum both in the glow of light and in the infrared spectrum of heat-sensing eyes. The cape’s magic could only be guessed, but those closest to the mercenary leader indicated that it was very valuable indeed.
Jarlaxle’s vest was sleeveless and cut so high that his slender and tightly muscled stomach was open for all to view. He kept a patch over one eye, though careful observers would understand it as ornamental, for Jarlaxle often shifted it from one eye to the other.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Exile

“The truth is, you don’t know Menzoberranzan. Not even you, Jarlaxle, who has spent your life trying to figure it out. You cannot understand the hope that brought us to the great cavern those millennia removed. Yes, hope. It was not anger that brought us there, nor fear. It was hope. We fled a world of tyrant queens and insane kings, a place of unending war and injustice. We found a sanctuary, a deep cave, full of Faezress magic—though we did not understand that at the time—and easily defended. A sanctuary, I say, and indeed that is what the word ‘Menzoberranzanâ€� then meant in the ancient tongue of the drow. “A hundred families,â€� she continued. “Ten thousand dark elves. And each had a say in their family, and each family had a voice in the Plenum, and the largest families spoke those concerns in the Conclave, which you now—and only—know as the Ruling Council. We were not rulers then as much as servants, heeding the words of all the drow. And it was Lady Lolth that led us there, before she was called the Spider Queen.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Relentless

“Ah, yes, true that,â€� Jarlaxle agreed, feigning defeat. “It escaped me that you are without the strong sense of irony to go that delicious route.â€� Jarlaxle turned to the others. “So we have it, then,â€� he declared. “It was the illithids, a grand and brilliant plan! Or it was Lolth herself, ever making chaos for her enjoyment. Or it was one of her great rivals, then—perhaps Demogorgon!—blowing up the whole damned Lolthian world on Faerun.â€� “Or it was nothing at all beyond the epiphany of two women in position to make a difference,â€� Entreri said dryly. He sighed and shook his head, then looked up at Wulfgar, who stood beside him. “You see, my friend?â€� he asked with sarcasm exceeding that of the others. “This is why we can’t have good things, good thoughts, simple joy, or hope.â€� Jarlaxle laughed loudly at that, amused. But there really was a nagging doubt here, about all of it. The most important lesson he had learned in his desperate struggle to survive in Menzoberranzan was that nothing—nothing!—was as it seemed. Not ever. But how he wanted to believe that this time would be different.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Relentless

“Jarlaxle considered that for a while, a smile growing as he heard in his mind the shaky voice of an old elf describing a city of drow. Not Menzoberranzan, not Chad Nasad, not in the Underdark at all. And one not devoted to the Demon Queen of Spiders.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Starlight Enclave

“Jarlaxle shrugged. “I come from Menzoberranzan. I know the influences an overpowering demon—or demonic bent of a magical item—can hold over people. Over otherwise good people. It is the story of my city, after all, of my kin.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Starlight Enclave

“Drizzt chuckled, but felt a pang within that honest laughter. This was the childhood he had never experienced, the carefree creation of giggles that too few got to enjoy. He wished he had played this game with Zaknafein, though he couldn’t even imagine the possibility of any such playfulness with his mother, Malice. Such a waste of life itself, he thought, given what he knew now, what Kimmuriel had helped the priestess Yvonnel and Matron Mother Quenthel Baenre reveal of the hopeful beginnings of Menzoberranzan before it had descended into its current, joyless reality. Before the way of Lolth, where the tension and excitement of chaos swirled away the pleasures of simplicity and love.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Starlight Enclave

“He is drow,â€� Zak answered before Jarlaxle, who was now floating back down. “As are you—you cannot levitate?â€� The surrounding aevendrow stared at him as if they had no idea what he was talking about. “Now, this is an interesting turn,â€� Jarlaxle said, setting down beside them. “So it was the Faerzress all along, the barrier to the lower planes, which gave us this inner magic.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Starlight Enclave

“The Second and Fourth Houses, at least, had come against her, and she didn’t doubt that more had joined as well. In Menzoberranzan, the typical assault meant that none could be left alive as witnesses. It was not forbidden for one house to attack another, as long as they didn’t get caught.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Glacier's Edge

“Worshipping Lolth in Menzoberranzan isn’t a matter of faith—hardly! It’s not even obeisance, or any expression of deserved respect or gratitude or any such thing. No, it is blind obedience, a subjugation of one’s own will stemming from either a hunger for power—such as with many of the ruling matrons—or simple, logical terror for almost everyone else”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“Avelyere knew that something was going on, Gromph had come to believe. He felt bad for deceiving her, which surprised him, for though he had come to think of Avelyere as a friend, Gromph Baenre had never been bothered by lying. In Menzoberranzan, lying was surviving.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“Zak thought of his homeland, Menzoberranzan, the city and the cavern that had stood for millennia. Every drow family tried to put their mark on it, be it with circling stairways flowing from stalactite to stalactite, highlighted with faerie fire of varying hues, but those were such little details, he thought. He was sure that the city looked very much as it had soon after its founding.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“A beautiful drow woman. Too beautiful. Painfully beautiful. It was not an emissary of Lolth, she knew. No, no. It was the image of Lolth herself, reaching out to her from the Abyss. Sos’Umptu fell to her knees, as did every other drow in the Fane of the Goddess.

“Many of my handmaidens have come to Menzoberranzan, my city,� Lolth said. Sos’Umptu wanted to look upon her, but dared not lift her gaze.

“They brought me here, to you, in full confidence that you would be an acceptable and accepting host.�

“I pray you found me acceptable.�

“Indeed, Sos’Umptu Baenre. Indeed. Rise now, I command. Look upon me. Let me see the love in your eyes.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“House Melarn is within those stalactites,â€� the wizard went on. “Up near the cavern roof, mostly, and then within the roof.â€�
“Only commoners and prisoners are in the chambers above the ceiling,â€� Entreri said. “The throne room, the chapels, the war rooms, all are within the down-pointing spires.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“Tsabrak scoffed at her. “How long have you lived here? Freedom? You are free to do the best you can, based on your loyalty to Lolth and your inner strengths. On your physical, magical, and intellectual prowess. And, of course, your gender. That you, a noble priestess of a powerful house, daughter to one of the ruling matrons of Menzoberranzan, should—â€�

“Suppose that is not what I want?â€� Saribel interrupted. “Perhaps my heart does not condone that which I see all about me.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“But she is . . . a she!â€� Ravel replied. “As are you. The power here is yours to take and hold. Tsabrak has reached the limit of anything he could ever hope for, and still he remains beneath every matron of every house, every high priestess, even. Why would he stay in a society that forever makes of him a lesser class of drow simply because he is a man?â€�

“His power and his luxury come from the order of the matriarchy,� Saribel explained. “To this level only.�

“To this level he might not have achieved without the structures now in place in the city.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“Jarlaxle’s returning smile fit the moment perfectly, but behind it wasn’t Sos’Umptu’s offer, but rather his proof that even with her, even with this most loyal servant of Lolth, it was all about selfish gain. It was always all about selfish gain, he thought, but then corrected himself, and reminded himself why he loved Drizzt and Drizzt’s friends, and why, in a most profound way, knowing them had given him so much more than any promises Sos’Umptu or any other Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan could ever offer.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“Along with the refugees of House Baenre, the contingent of outsiders of the Dark Maiden, and the soldiers of Bregan D’aerthe, nearly three thousand udadrow had left Menzoberranzan, past Donigarten and through the little-used Wanderways.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“You have spies already at work in the new Menzoberranzan?â€� Dab’nay asked in surprise. “I have spies that span the multiverse,â€� was all Jarlaxle would answer to that, but his grin told them that something was going on he had not yet shared.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Lolth's Warrior

“For five long years Vierna devoted almost every waking moment to the care of baby Drizzt. In drow society, this was not so much nurturing time as indoctrinating time.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Homeland

“Zak was able to smile at situations that didn’t necessarily bring pain to anyone. He was the first drow Drizzt had met who was apparently content with his station in life. Zak was the first drow Drizzt had ever heard laugh.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Homeland

“Information was Jarlaxle’s forte. The scouting network of Bregan D’aethe, the band Jarlaxle had founded and taken to greatness, was more intricate than that of any drow house. Jarlaxle knew everything that happened, or would soon happen, in and around the city, and armed with that information, he had survived for centuries as a houseless rogue.”
― R.A. Salvatore, The Legacy: Legend of Drizzt

“The greatest weakness in Menzoberranzan was not the rivalry of the various Houses, Jarlaxle knew, but the strict matriarchal system imposed by Lolth’s followers. Half the Drow population was subjugated merely because they had been born male. That was a weakness. And subjugation inevitably bred bitterness, even- especially!- in one who had gone as far as Gromph.”
― R.A. Salvatore, Siege of Darkness

“A huge black tentacle snaked over the rim of the Clawrift, wriggling its way behind the Oblodran compound. Like a wave, dark elves fell back, stumbling all over each other, as the twenty-foot-thick monstrosity came around the back, along the side, and along the front wall, back towards the chasm.

“Baenre!� Pleaded the desperate, doomed Oblodran.

“You have denied Lolth,â€� the first matron mother replied calmly. “Feel her wraith!”
― R.A. Salvatore, Siege of Darkness