Drow Male

The mirror and the dim torchlight reveals a figure well suited for darkness. Though your frame and build are identical to that of the incorrectly labelled "high elves", you appear obviously and distinctly different from them; your skin a darkened purplish hue, the radiant colored hues of your terrestrial cousins is instead a shimmering and bright white, both suited for an existence underground, in the harsh world commonly referred to as the Underdark. Your lean body is well suited to evasion and nimbleness, not the brutish strength of some other sentient species.

Like the other elves, hair stops as your brow, leaving the skin around your now aroused dick completely bare. Coupled with the slender physique that you're staring at proudly, you feel that any other species would recognize your body and disposition as being the clearly superior one, if only they would stop hating or running fear of you long enough to actually pay attention.

With that, you remind yourself of the task at hand. Though the darkness doesn't bother you, the seeming lack of an exit does. This feels like a trap, or a prison. Someone putting you here before they can dispose of you properly, though the weapons and items along the walls challenge that preconception. A dueling arena, perhaps. There was any number of options really, none of which were really that important or relevant to the task of getting out. You scour the items along the wall, hoping that there could be either a lever to open the gate, or something that would allow you to make your escape.