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JollyDoc's Serpent's Skull-updated 11/6/2011
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<blockquote data-quote="JollyDoc" data-source="post: 5615838" data-attributes="member: 9546"><p><strong>Lyrissa</strong></p><p></p><p>Lyrissa Skylark was alive. She stood along the starboard rail of the weather deck, feeling the easy rolling of the waves beneath her, and the warm sea breeze in her hair. The sun sank slowly into the sea, and the red glow of Akiton was already visible in the southern sky. She had left Port Peril far behind, and her new life lay open before her, as wide as the sea she sailed upon. </p><p>Two days ago, however, had not been a good day at all, and it all started when her mother died.</p><p></p><p>Lyrissa was the rarest of creatures – the product of a loving union between a beautiful half-orc courtesan, and a rakish and talented half-elven bard. Her heritage was difficult to judge at first glance, and her exotic beauty drew more than glances. She was tall and broad-shouldered, but athletically proportioned, and blessed with a dancer’s grace.</p><p>Lyria, her mother, was also a rare beauty for a half-orc, and she had been the subject of record bidding among the higher-end pleasure houses in Port Peril. Her father, the well-known troubadour Finnegan Skylark, met Lyria after performing at the Dragon Turtle Tavern, and the two were instantly smitten with one another. Still, after a time, Finnegan resumed his adventuring, and Lyria likewise resumed her career. Little Lyrissa was raised among the other children in the pleasure den, but her father would always send her tokens from his travels: once a wyvern scale, another time a colorful Varisian doll. He wrote her letters from time to time, and occasionally he would visit when his adventures brought him around the Shackles.</p><p>The gifts were a relief to her, and she read and reread the letters as an escape from her twisted reality. For Lyrissa, at twelve, was already working in the pleasure house. She had been trained in the arts of dancing, seduction, and more. She didn’t like the way it made her feel, but there was no way out. It was all she had ever known. She loved her mother, but hated what she made her do. It was enough to drive a hurt and confused girl to the brink. Her father’s letters were all that kept her from falling apart.</p><p></p><p>When Lyrissa was fifteen, her father made one of his rare appearances, but the visit did not go well. The girl heard her parents arguing, so she did what any curious teenager would do – she listened through the door. Her father had heard about what was going on, and he became enraged. Her mother screamed at him that he didn’t understand, he was never there, and besides, his crazy life was no better than hers. In moments, security stormed up the stairs, shoved Lyrissa out of the way, and kicked in the door. Finnegan drew his blade on the bouncers, and it hummed with magical energy. He began to sing, and the magic-infused melody awakened something inside Lyrissa. She felt the power in the music, and it surged within her. </p><p>Without a thought, she grabbed the nearest weapon at hand, an ornate bronze statue, and came from behind the nearest enforcer. He never knew what hit him, and went down with his skull bashed-in. Her father skewered another guard, and then turned to see Lyrissa standing with the bloody statue in her hand. </p><p>“Let’s get out of here.” was all he said.</p><p>Lyrissa nodded numbly and dropped the statue with a heavy thud.</p><p>“Well then, you ready to run like the Hells?”</p><p>Her father reached for her hand, and as they turned to run, she looked back to see the tear-streaked face of her mother, standing among the carnage in her room. Then Lyrissa ran for her life.</p><p></p><p>Finnegan made good their escape, and the two left Port Peril to travel Golarion together. He taught her the ways of the song and the spell, and an adventuring friend taught her the ways of the sword. Unfortunately, she did not have long to learn. Almost a year to the day after they fled the Shackles, she found her father dead in his bed. There wasn’t a single mark on the body. It had to be poison. Or magic. All of his possessions were gone. All their gold, everything.</p><p>All of the hurt, all of the anguish came back. Lyrissa was penniless, alone, and utterly without hope. She turned back to what she knew in order to survive. In order to separate her self from how she made her gold, she stuffed all her fear, her shame, and her self-loathing into a separate personality she called “Lisa”. Lisa was good at what she did. So good that it didn’t take long to amass enough money to buy passage on a ship bound for the Shackles. And while Lisa didn’t care, Lyrissa wanted to cling to something familiar, the only thing she had left – her mother. </p><p>When her ship, the Jenivere arrived in Port Peril, Captain Kovack mentioned that they would be in port for three days. Not that it mattered, she was home now.</p><p></p><p>She dared not return to the pleasure house after what had happened the year before, but she hired an errand boy to take a message to her mother. When he returned, he said that one of the other ladies told him that Lyria hadn’t worked there for months.</p><p>It didn’t take much investigation to find out what had happened. After Finnegan’s bloody escape, Lyria was thrown out of the pleasure house. She tried keep up her clientele, but her reputation was ruined, and she was older now. It wasn’t long before she fell into despair, and started drinking heavily. She then turned to Snake Weed, and finally succumbed to the highly-addictive Abyss Dust. Now she lived in a ramshackle tenement near the docks, turning tricks in order to pay the rent and feed her habit.</p><p>Lyrissa and “Lisa” could relate. She set out to find her mother. When she arrived, a street boy told her that the “half-orc lady” had left a little earlier and was headed toward the warehouses down by the docks. Lyrissa followed along. She knew where her mother was going - Vahr’s. Vahr was a small time alchemist and drug dealer who sold mostly to the most desperate souls – pirates, prostitutes, and the like. </p><p>As she turned onto the street, Lyrissa saw her mother. Lyria was dressed in a ragged cloak, and she made straight for the unmarked warehouse that housed Vahr’s shop. Lyrissa watched as her mother crossed the cobbled street towards the shop. Suddenly, the building erupted in a titanic explosion. A blast of fire, wood, and stone burst out into the street. Lyrissa’s mother was literally blown to pieces as she watched.</p><p>Lyrissa stood dumbstruck. Her mother was gone. Her father was gone. She was truly alone. Her ears were still ringing, and her legs were about to give out when she heard a yell from the other side of the street. </p><p>A young man was running as fast as he could out of another warehouse. She caught a quick glimpse of his face as he flew by. “Gods, run woman! Run for your very soul!”</p><p>Lyrissa looked past him to see what he was running from. That’s when she saw the alien gait of the barbed devil walking from the doorway of the warehouse. It was watching the running man, and then its gaze locked on her. She froze in fear, and the devil strode purposefully towards her, picking its way through the rubble in the street.</p><p>Just then a second explosion rocked the alchemist’s shop. A cloud of noxious green smoke billowed out with the blast, knocking the devil sideways, and completely obscuring the entire street. </p><p>Lyrissa turned and ran as fast as she could. She ran for the most crowded streets and quickly lost herself among the throngs by the docks.</p><p>There was nowhere else to go. She was without family, friends, or a home. So she made her way back to the Jenivere. </p><p>Captain Kovack was at the gangplank. “I thought you were staying here?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>He stared at her blank face. “You okay?” </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Well then… um, you can keep your cabin. We’re headed for Bloodcove at first light.”</p><p>Lyrissa didn’t even answer. She didn’t care. “Lisa” thought Bloodcove sounded lovely.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="JollyDoc, post: 5615838, member: 9546"] [b]Lyrissa[/b] Lyrissa Skylark was alive. She stood along the starboard rail of the weather deck, feeling the easy rolling of the waves beneath her, and the warm sea breeze in her hair. The sun sank slowly into the sea, and the red glow of Akiton was already visible in the southern sky. She had left Port Peril far behind, and her new life lay open before her, as wide as the sea she sailed upon. Two days ago, however, had not been a good day at all, and it all started when her mother died. Lyrissa was the rarest of creatures – the product of a loving union between a beautiful half-orc courtesan, and a rakish and talented half-elven bard. Her heritage was difficult to judge at first glance, and her exotic beauty drew more than glances. She was tall and broad-shouldered, but athletically proportioned, and blessed with a dancer’s grace. Lyria, her mother, was also a rare beauty for a half-orc, and she had been the subject of record bidding among the higher-end pleasure houses in Port Peril. Her father, the well-known troubadour Finnegan Skylark, met Lyria after performing at the Dragon Turtle Tavern, and the two were instantly smitten with one another. Still, after a time, Finnegan resumed his adventuring, and Lyria likewise resumed her career. Little Lyrissa was raised among the other children in the pleasure den, but her father would always send her tokens from his travels: once a wyvern scale, another time a colorful Varisian doll. He wrote her letters from time to time, and occasionally he would visit when his adventures brought him around the Shackles. The gifts were a relief to her, and she read and reread the letters as an escape from her twisted reality. For Lyrissa, at twelve, was already working in the pleasure house. She had been trained in the arts of dancing, seduction, and more. She didn’t like the way it made her feel, but there was no way out. It was all she had ever known. She loved her mother, but hated what she made her do. It was enough to drive a hurt and confused girl to the brink. Her father’s letters were all that kept her from falling apart. When Lyrissa was fifteen, her father made one of his rare appearances, but the visit did not go well. The girl heard her parents arguing, so she did what any curious teenager would do – she listened through the door. Her father had heard about what was going on, and he became enraged. Her mother screamed at him that he didn’t understand, he was never there, and besides, his crazy life was no better than hers. In moments, security stormed up the stairs, shoved Lyrissa out of the way, and kicked in the door. Finnegan drew his blade on the bouncers, and it hummed with magical energy. He began to sing, and the magic-infused melody awakened something inside Lyrissa. She felt the power in the music, and it surged within her. Without a thought, she grabbed the nearest weapon at hand, an ornate bronze statue, and came from behind the nearest enforcer. He never knew what hit him, and went down with his skull bashed-in. Her father skewered another guard, and then turned to see Lyrissa standing with the bloody statue in her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” was all he said. Lyrissa nodded numbly and dropped the statue with a heavy thud. “Well then, you ready to run like the Hells?” Her father reached for her hand, and as they turned to run, she looked back to see the tear-streaked face of her mother, standing among the carnage in her room. Then Lyrissa ran for her life. Finnegan made good their escape, and the two left Port Peril to travel Golarion together. He taught her the ways of the song and the spell, and an adventuring friend taught her the ways of the sword. Unfortunately, she did not have long to learn. Almost a year to the day after they fled the Shackles, she found her father dead in his bed. There wasn’t a single mark on the body. It had to be poison. Or magic. All of his possessions were gone. All their gold, everything. All of the hurt, all of the anguish came back. Lyrissa was penniless, alone, and utterly without hope. She turned back to what she knew in order to survive. In order to separate her self from how she made her gold, she stuffed all her fear, her shame, and her self-loathing into a separate personality she called “Lisa”. Lisa was good at what she did. So good that it didn’t take long to amass enough money to buy passage on a ship bound for the Shackles. And while Lisa didn’t care, Lyrissa wanted to cling to something familiar, the only thing she had left – her mother. When her ship, the Jenivere arrived in Port Peril, Captain Kovack mentioned that they would be in port for three days. Not that it mattered, she was home now. She dared not return to the pleasure house after what had happened the year before, but she hired an errand boy to take a message to her mother. When he returned, he said that one of the other ladies told him that Lyria hadn’t worked there for months. It didn’t take much investigation to find out what had happened. After Finnegan’s bloody escape, Lyria was thrown out of the pleasure house. She tried keep up her clientele, but her reputation was ruined, and she was older now. It wasn’t long before she fell into despair, and started drinking heavily. She then turned to Snake Weed, and finally succumbed to the highly-addictive Abyss Dust. Now she lived in a ramshackle tenement near the docks, turning tricks in order to pay the rent and feed her habit. Lyrissa and “Lisa” could relate. She set out to find her mother. When she arrived, a street boy told her that the “half-orc lady” had left a little earlier and was headed toward the warehouses down by the docks. Lyrissa followed along. She knew where her mother was going - Vahr’s. Vahr was a small time alchemist and drug dealer who sold mostly to the most desperate souls – pirates, prostitutes, and the like. As she turned onto the street, Lyrissa saw her mother. Lyria was dressed in a ragged cloak, and she made straight for the unmarked warehouse that housed Vahr’s shop. Lyrissa watched as her mother crossed the cobbled street towards the shop. Suddenly, the building erupted in a titanic explosion. A blast of fire, wood, and stone burst out into the street. Lyrissa’s mother was literally blown to pieces as she watched. Lyrissa stood dumbstruck. Her mother was gone. Her father was gone. She was truly alone. Her ears were still ringing, and her legs were about to give out when she heard a yell from the other side of the street. A young man was running as fast as he could out of another warehouse. She caught a quick glimpse of his face as he flew by. “Gods, run woman! Run for your very soul!” Lyrissa looked past him to see what he was running from. That’s when she saw the alien gait of the barbed devil walking from the doorway of the warehouse. It was watching the running man, and then its gaze locked on her. She froze in fear, and the devil strode purposefully towards her, picking its way through the rubble in the street. Just then a second explosion rocked the alchemist’s shop. A cloud of noxious green smoke billowed out with the blast, knocking the devil sideways, and completely obscuring the entire street. Lyrissa turned and ran as fast as she could. She ran for the most crowded streets and quickly lost herself among the throngs by the docks. There was nowhere else to go. She was without family, friends, or a home. So she made her way back to the Jenivere. Captain Kovack was at the gangplank. “I thought you were staying here?” “No.” He stared at her blank face. “You okay?” “No.” “Well then… um, you can keep your cabin. We’re headed for Bloodcove at first light.” Lyrissa didn’t even answer. She didn’t care. “Lisa” thought Bloodcove sounded lovely. [/QUOTE]
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