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Starless Night
As written by Drizzt Do’Urden, in the novels by R.A.Salvatore.
In The Web
One of the sects of Faerun names the sins of humanity as seven, and foremost among them is pride. My interpretation of this had always been to think of the arrogance of kings, who proclaimed themselves gods, or at least convinced their subjects that they spoke with some divine beings, thus conveying the image that their power was god-given.
That is only one manifestation of this most deadly of sins. One does not have to be a king to be taken down by false pride. Montolio DeBrouche, my ranger mentor, warned me about this, but his lessons concerned a personal aspect of pride. “A ranger often walks aloe, but never walks without friends nearby,” the wise man explained. “A ranger knows his surroundings and knows where allies might be found.”
To Montolio’s way of thinking, pride was blindness, a blurring of insight and wisdom, and the defeat of trust. A too-proud man walked alone and cared not where allies might be found.
When I discovered the web of Menzoberranzan growing thick about me, I understood my error, my arrogance. Had I come to think so much of myself and my abilities that I forgot those allies who had, to this point, allowed me to survive? In my anger over the death of Wulfgar and my fears for Cattie-brie, Bruenor, and Regis, I never considered that those living friends could help to take care of themselves. The problem that ad befallen us all was my own fault, I had decided, and, thus, was my duty to correct, however impossible that might be for a single person.
I would go to Menzoberranzan, discover the truth and end the conflict, even if that end meant the sacrifice of my own life.
What a fool I had been.
Pride told me that I was the cause of Wulfgar’s death; pride told me that I could be the one to right the wrong. Sheer arrogance prevented me from dealing openly with my friend, the dwarven king, who could muster the forces necessary to combat any forthcoming drow attacks.
On that ledge on the Isle of Rothe, I realised that I would pay for my arrogance; later, I would learn that others dear to me might pay as well.
It is a defeat of the spirit to learn that one’s arrogance causes such loss and pain. Pride invites you to soar to heights of personal triumph, but the wind is stronger at those heights and the footing tentative. Farther, then, is the fall.
