A Minute With: An Ilindith Commoner

What is the leading cause of death in your world?

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The male drow prostitute slowly stirs the small pot of liquid warming on the brazier. His chamber is small -- more functional than luxurious; but it is clean, and the mattress on the bed is surprisingly comfortable. He chews his bottom lip thoughtfully.
That's...a really odd question. I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before. Is it normal to ask things like that where you come from? But you didn't pay for me to question you, so...hmm....
I guess you could say that sudden death is such a normal function of life here, we barely notice. You've perhaps noticed that there aren't many elderly. There's so many ways to die here, it's not easy to pick out a single cause.
There's the mundane things: starvation; drowning in the River; getting underfoot of a riding lizard; getting 'selected' for magical or alchemical experiments; the gladiator pits; muggings; fights; peacekeepers; out-of-control slaves; livestock stampedes. Disease -- thankfully, that one hasn't gotten too bad in a while. Maybe a fall off of a bridge or the tops of the canyon walls, up where the Estates are. None of those are very interesting; probably not what you had in mind.
After that, there's the tunnels. I think on the surface, they're referred to as "roads" -- you know, paths that lead from one place to the next, or sometimes to no place at all. Thanks to the efforts of House Hounbrak, House Rauveld, the wilderness guides and the patrols, the main routes around here aren't so bad: they're fairly free of monsters, though it's still wise to be cautious during breeding seasons. Nevertheless, I'm told it's easy to meet one's end out there. There are deserts with no water or food sources; and some places with so little air, even a child would suffocate in less than an hour. Blind crevasses, rockfalls, cave-ins, blooms of poisonous fungi, bandits, zones of anomalous magic, heat vents, toxic gas, storms on the seas, those aforementioned monsters...I'm sure there are more things no one has ever survived to report.
Sometimes undead roam the Twilight levels. For a long time, only travelers between the Dark and the surface ever met them. But in the last few years, there have been occasional rumors of sightings here in the Dark. I hope it's not true; though if it is, they will surely die twice. It is The Lady's will that undead never survive an encounter with a drow. The priestesses see to it that we keep Her decree well, but now and then some fail and pay for it with their lives.
Oh...there used to be dwarves down here that caused significant problems at times, but they seem to have completely disappeared in the last decade or so. No one misses them. Dwarves just aren't very personable things, even in bed.
I feel I should mention that while someone meeting their end in any of those ways wouldn't be shocking, it isn't exactly common. One does have to put some effort into them, after all.
The pot's contents have begun to simmer. The peppery scent of a fungus soup lightly perfumes the air. The drow keeps up his slow stirring, somehow both lost in thought and acutely aware of you. When he speaks again, his voice is hushed, hesitant, and edged with a vague yet palpable anxiety.
There...is another way. Different from the others because...it comes looking for you, rather than the other way around. Some don't even make it to birth before it appears. I have heard a little of what you surface folk think we're like down here: assassinations,  poisonings, plots, demon summoning, torture, sacrifices. Always the sacrifices --aren't sacrifices common up there? I'm not sure why they always ask about that. Anyway, it's all true. Our society as a whole is very competitive, and improving one's station sometimes means one needs to...ah...narrow the field, as it were. I got this very chamber -- and a respectable promotion -- when it's former occupant wouldn't be needing it anymore. It's nice, isn't it? The thing is, everyone is always looking for ways to advance; and everyone is in someone's way. Therefore, everyone must always be on guard if they want to survive.
He ladles up a steaming drinking-bowl of the murky blue soup and hands it to you.
Ah. Well there's your answer: the 'leading cause of death' here, as you put it, is us.
Enjoy the soup.