The Reality of the Surface

Slingers. Of all the blasted things they could make Khals and I teach, was a grouped of ogre-brained slingers. I don't know who in their sun-addled mind thought it was a good idea to give a group of twenty human slingers of over six feet in height to two female elves that wield scimitars and great axes. It wasn't the best situation but it paid enough to keep us in the guild so why the hell not. It couldn't honestly get any worse than that, but the gods enjoy their tricks and of course, it did get much worse.
 
Within five minutes of the first class, one of the men had insulting Khals' family, another woman had broken her sling and nailed Khals with a sizable rock, and another had insulted me. I could care less what these idiots said, but Khals took the words and injury as a challenge, flying into a rage. At least she had the brains to not grab her great axe, but there wasn't much of our training dummy left when she was through pelting it with rocks the size of her head. The slingers took a step back after that, keeping their comments quiet and hoping they didn't see the green eyes of the barbarian turn red. I got a great laugh out of it. These people weren't disciplined, they were amateurs at best, and taking on Khals, even not in a rage, would have ended poorly for them.
 
Whoever was leading this training quickly caught on and began sending the slingers with real weapons after that, although they weren't allowed to have anything larger than a shortsword. I even made it easy on them and switched to only wielding my scimitar in my off-hand, but after watching a demonstration of sparring from us "pointy-earred bastards," the group decided to practice among themselves and stay as far away from us as they could. This allowed time for Khals and I to train and sometimes give instruction, but mostly we poked fun at the group, using only the silent drow language of course.
 
The nights were distinctly better than the days training the dunderheads. Kel, the guildmaster, actually enjoyed our group, talking to us often for hours. Khals and the paladin told stories about their childhoods, time spent traveling and meeting each other. Some of the others gambled and drank, but I never took more than a sip. I'm still uneasy around the group, especially the rogue. But I've taken a liking to Reinys since Khals trusts her. The surface is still new to me, so I have to put my trust in her, and in Reinys, but that doesn't mean that I can't have fun with it.
 
Too often the others catch Khals and I snickering as we sign to each other. No one else knows the silent language, so it's perfect for us to pick fun at the others. I had expected more people to give me a wide berth or odd looks, but I've begun to realize that I am far from the oddest person wandering the surface. A half-orc cleric and a djinn rogue as well as a warforged necromancer. Honestly, a dark elf with lavender eyes is one of the most normal things in Stronghold.