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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1743902" data-attributes="member: 20284">Juni Ber Lar'Sheni Dhazyran Bard Where to begin... so much has happened in my short life thus far. My mother was a Dhazyran nomad, my father a Damaristani mercenary (I think.) I spent my younger years wandering Mythosa with the rest of my tribe, performing for villages of bored peasants and cities of repugnant nobles. It was only a few years after my birth that my mother wed, a young Dhazyran from another tribe. He came into our tribe and embraced me as his own daughter. He even gave me his lute and taught me to play. Playing a certain tune this lute is able to detect the presence of magic in the area. Although he and my mother had three children of their own, I think I was always his favorite. At an early age I learned of the power my mother's beauty had confered upon me, and used it to make our lives better. I learned to play the lute and to perform with my tribe. I had seen 17 summers and most of the western lands when an elderly nobleman in the city of Zeldora deemed me fit to be his newest wife. I had little interest in wasting away the rest of my life as the slave-wench to a pudgy old noble, and I told him as much. I did not put it to him in such kindly words. By the end of that day I had come to regret my harsh words. My tribe was labeled as a cult of Tehmorix, our entertainments nothing but a cover to allow us to infest the city with plague. Many doubted the nobleman's words but many more believed, and took to arms. As we fled I watched my own mother cut down by a scythe wielding peasant and my younger brother fall to an arrow in the back. My adopted father and siblings disappeared in the fray but I am sadly sure they did not survive that evil night. I fled Zeldora and found myself wandering, no purpose in my mind and no coins in my purse. I began to play at roadside taverns, using my sultry charms to make many a coin and many a jealous wife. But I was a woman with no future and no purpose.I met Gunta Nev Lar'Sheni in a tavern several days north of Ilmara. He was charming, suave, and understanding. He gave me a purpose in life and a best friend. Gunta was also of Dhazyran descent, but had wandered from his tribe in search of adventure and had not seen them in years. We made a pilgrimage to one of their frequent stopping points and married in classic Dhazyra fashion. I have never been so happy as I was in the two years of our marriage, and I doubt I will ever feel that way again. I learned many things from Gunta, not the least of which was the use of magic to enhance my performances. We wandered the lands, performing as I had with my family and enjoying the freedom and our love. I doubt I will ever forget the hatred I feel for this city now that it has taken him from me. But I digress. 'This city' is Shesada. Let me tell you of it.I had told Gunta that it had always been an interest of mine to see the fabled desert nations. Oasys and Shesada were like fables I had heard of since birth but I'd never dared to brave the Varghani desert to reach them. Gunta was quite receptive, even mentioning that he had a close friend that lived in Shesada and was a respected member of the Shesada Etherea. A mage of no little renown it seemed. Within a week we were part of a caravan bound for mythical Shesada. The days were blistering, the nights full of music and dance. It was a hard two weeks of slow moving, but when I saw the gates of Shesada my heart jumped. I was in awe. We spent that evening in an expensive inn in the merchant's quarter. The next day I wandered the Agori, looking at exotic merchandise from as far away as the nation of Ksa and homemade mystical trinkets made by Etherea members. As I shopped, Gunta attended a meeting with his friend at the Etherea. We met again that evening at the inn and I noticed that Gunta seemed troubled. Queries, however, just resulted in smiles and head shakes. I was interupted from further questioning by the innkeeper. He had apparantly heard that we were performers and offered us free room and meals if we would entertain the crowd. The rest of the evening was spent in the common room, singing and telling tales to the inn patrons. When I finally stumbled into our room, exhausted and more than a little tipsy, I let loose a yelp of surprise as I noticed a shadowy figure standing by the bed. Gunta burst in, only to relax as he recognized the man. He introduced me to his friend, Reelaree. They began to talk in earnest as I relaxed on the bed, trying to let the dizziness of the drink and crowds leave my head. I did not follow the conversation particularly well, but it seemed that Reelaree was worried about something at the Etherea, and was asking Gunta for aid. Something about finding a student that the mage had sent off earlier that day. At this point I began to feel the tingling sensation I've come to associate with danger. It was strong, stronger than that wicked night years ago in Zeldora. But now I new what it meant. I began pawing at Gunta, trying to draw his attention, to warn him that something was wrong. He was wrapped up in what Reelaree was saying, something of a betrayal at the Etherea, when the door burst inward in a wave of heat and noise! Two dark clad men charged in, waving what appeared to be small crossbows. Reelaree was on his feet, his hands waving intricate patterns in the air. At the same time Gunta was leaping towards his sheathed sword on the floor. My dagger was in my hand as I leapt at one of the shadows. The other figure planted a crossbow bolt in Reelaree's chest. The wizard fell, the fire forming at his fingertips arcing wildly around the room, igniting the curtains and part of the ceiling. Gunta thrust his blade into the chest of the murderer as I slashed open the cheek of the other. The wounded man fled, but we could hear more footfalls in the hall. Fearing it was more men coming to finish the job we grabbed our packs and hurled ourselves out the windows, brushing at the fragments of flaming curtain clinging to us. Gunta was clutching a rolled up piece of paper he had grabbed from his dead friend's body as we ran. To the stables. We found our horses and quickly mounted, as another shadowy figure leapt into the building and flung a torch onto the ground. We raced our horses from the newly formed inferno and fled into the night. As we escaped I turned, giving a reassuring smile to my lover, only to hear the thump of a crossbow bolt. Gunta slumped forward, eyes bulging. He collapsed from his horse, landing headfirst on the ground. I leapt from my mount and ran to my husband. Gunta held the scroll he had grabbed out to me and told me to 'find Algrel...in the tomb... this is my wish. My love...' There, in the alleys of beautiful Shesada, my husband died. The scroll was in my pouch, my bow was in my hand, and fires of vengence were in my eyes. Five shadows were rushing towards us, two had fallen by the time I mounted my horse and fled into the night.Now I stand outside the city. I know I cannot return to Shesada for some time. I recognized the sign on one of the dark men's necklace. The sign of the newly risen Dark God. They will hunt me if I return, they will hunt me regardless. For now, I will seek this 'Algrel' and perhaps some answers. But someday, vengence will be mine...</blockquote>

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