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  1. #1
    The Scrying Pool: Glimpses of the Past and Future

    The Scrying Pool: Glimpses of the Past and Future

    OOC Note:

    My intention for this thread is as sort of a catchall to hold stories, vignettes, and other bits from the world of Tyria that you want to share but that don't fit in with the current RP timeline. Maybe you want to write a story about an event from your character's past, or to show events in the distant future that we will probably never advance the current storyline far enough to get to, or to start writing about a future character who hasn't come to exist yet in the RP's present moment... or anything else.

    No particular agenda for this aside from allowing some extra room for creativity that isn't hampered by time.

    You gaze into the Scrying Pool and see...
    "Sleep to dream, and we dream to live..." -Great Big Sea

  2. #2
    Count / Countess Tigers is offline Tigers's Avatar
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    A Monks Fate

    A Monks Fate

    Mara Dayne

    A Monk's Fate

    It had been years since the Battle for Lion's Arch. Her guild sister's were spread throughout Tyria, many of them married and with growing families. Mara herself had accepted Kimmes proposal only a little over a year ago and they were expecting their first child. Even after nearly a year, she was still very much a blushing bride. Talya and Sonja still teased her, but always with a sisterly gleam within their eyes. She would never stop being who she was, even married and with a 10 children if Dwayna blessed her so. But her guild sister's would have her no other way.

    But Mara's dreams had been troubled lately. The dreams perhaps brought on by her pregnancy. She wasn't even far enough along to really tell that she was with child, and unless you knew her you would never surmise that she was pregnant. It had been a joyous occasion, a blessing no doubt from Dwayna. But the dreams had brought some fear and uncertainty. But it was not about the child, it was something else more disturbing. A vision perhaps from Dwayna herself, but why her, why chose to deliver any message, even one so world shattering through someone like her?

    Mara never liked keeping secrets from anyone, but she found she could not yet share what she dreamt with Kimmies for fear of worrying him. And how could she worry him when she did not entirely understand this dream. Perhaps each one was a puzzle, placing each piece in order, eventually revealing the final picture when all the pieces were together. Whatever that final picture was, she was most certain it involved those like her, Monks.

    Her first dream had not seemed that bad or disturbing. It had been strange to her when she awoke, wondering why there had been no others in her dream, just monks. She remembered feeling nothing except for the odd feeling that something was different. The place she was in, it was filled with old friends, mentors, those she had never met. She had even seen her mother, and Mara wondered why at the time why she had not asked her why she had left, where she had gone. A million questions that had plagued the young girl's mind so long ago.

    It was a place that seemed to glow in the warmth of Dwayna's loving embrace. There was peace, she was content and all the world seemed right except for that small part of her that knew something was different. That had been her first dream, as strange as it had been it had not been disturbing or unsettling.

    It was the second one that had made her cry out in her sleep. Kimmes had gently touched her, calling her name but he seemed so far away. She was lost to him, separated forever. But that was just beginning, she saw the world, her home in turmoil. She saw suffering, pain and death and no one there to help. Even in her sleep, this was unacceptable to Mara. She was a monk, she had dedicated her life to helping others, to heal and protect, to smite down the enemy if the moment called. A world without monks, how could this be?

    In her dream she had prayed fervently to Dwayna, seeking her guidance. But Dwayna's voice was silent, as were all the gods. It had been a horrible dream, one that had shaken Mara to her core. When Kimmes had finally woke her, Mara was in tears and had clung to him for sometime before she had even been able to speak. But that dream was just the first, more were to come, more that would shake her faith and question her beliefs.
    Peace is a lie
    There is only passion
    Through passion I gain strength
    Through strength I gain power
    Through power I gain victory
    Through victory my chains are broken
    The Force shall set me free

  3. #3
    First Steps, Part One: Anakita Snakecharm

    The Eye of the North, shortly before the defeat of the Great Destroyer

    Livia looked askance at Anakita from across the table. "So really? There's no one?"

    Anakita didn't look up. She was re-stringing her bow, a convenient excuse to duck out of awkward conversations. "I didn't say there was no one."

    "It was a strong implication," Gwen commented with mock annoyance. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "So what's going on?"

    The Ranger shrugged. "There's someone, but he's not interested. I'll get over it."

    Livia raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? You offered, and he turned you down? Men don't often behave like that."

    "I didn't have to. My lovable brother asked him on my behalf without my permission. Somehow Rhodri figured it out, and he wants to make sure my life is as painful as possible, so he gleefully informed me of the rejection."

    "I don't mean to state the obvious," Gwen countered. "But are you sure Rhodri really talked to him? What if he just made the whole thing up?"

    Anakita sighed. The bow repair was finished, and she was no longer pretending to fiddle with it. "What Rhodri reported is exactly what I expected. He said..."

    There was a long silence. "Said what?" Gwen finally prompted.

    "He doesn't want me because I'm death."

    "Because you're death? What does that even mean?"

    "He's a Warrior. Fighting is his job. And it's... my job too. It's too much the same. He doesn't want that to be everything in his world. He wants to come home to peace and quiet. He wants a life. Not just more death. And I can't give him that. I can't be someone I'm not for a man. I wouldn't want to be. Who I am can't make him happy."

    Livia gave her a puzzled look. "Don't you want to hear all this from him instead of your untrustworthy brother-- one might even say your evil twin?"

    "Of course. But... no. We're good friends. I don't want to make things awkward between us."

    Anakita was terrified. Far more terrified than of any enemy she'd ever faced down. Being a hunter, a fighter, was easy. Acting like the human being she was could be far too hard.

    Let them think she hadn't tried. The truth was, she'd tried hundreds of times. When she was with him, she'd be about to say it, but then the moment wasn't right, or the words wouldn't come. Suddenly her mind was paralyzed, every time. If she couldn't manage a simple conversation, how on earth would she figure out how to have a relationship even if she could wrangle him into one? Anakita didn't generally believe in lost causes, but this just seemed hopeless.

    "I'll talk to him," came a deep, quite voice. Jora's first contribution to the conversation. The other women looked at her in astonishment; they had thought she wasn't listening.

    Jora smiled. "We'll talk Warrior to Warrior once the beer had flowed. You can trust me, and you'll know what he really said. If he says no, it won't affect your friendship with him at all."

    Anakita suddenly grinned. "Thank you," she replied sincerely. A tremendous weight had been lifted, no matter what Stefan told Jora about her. Either way, at least she would know for sure.
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; 01-01-2011 at 11:05 AM.

  4. #4
    First Steps, Part Two: Stefan Baruch

    Sifhalla, a few hours and a number of pints later

    Stefan gazed at Jora over the rim of his stein, his eyes looking a trifle glassy. Norn ale was quite powerful stuff, even for a soldier experienced in holding his drink.

    There was just a hint of a slur in his speech. "No, it's not that I haven't found the right woman. I have a... lady fair. It's just, I missed my chance with her."

    Jora appeared entirely unaffected by the alcohol, though she'd matched him drink for drink. "How so?"

    "I was going to prove I was heroic. Demonstrate my prow... perow... skill in battle and win her heart. Shoulder to shoulder we would face the Mursaat at the Door of Komalie, and--"

    "And? You disgraced yourself on the battlefield?"

    "No. Well, not as such. I didn't quite make it to the battle."

    A slight smile quirked Jora's lip. "Something more important came up than saving the human race and winning the heart of your true love?"

    "No, of course not. It was a big day, and I had some nerves to calm. So the night before, I had a few drinks with a Dwarven fellow, and next thing I know..."

    "You were unconscious?"

    "I wish. I was running through some dungeon screaming my own name and hitting things. The hangover was hellish. So that was that."

    "It was? You appear to have recovered."

    "Well, sure," Stefan stammered. "I was fine in a few days. But I'd lost my chance. Look, Jurah..."

    "I'm Jora. Jurah is the one they call Master of Whispers."

    "Right. I know that. Look, Jora... I'm the bastard son of a common tavernkeeper. A mercenary of little distinction. I had hoped to prove my heroism to her and gain her affection, but now... what do I have to offer her?"

    "Tell her you love her, and will make her happy."

    Stefan looked doubtful. "It's not as... impulsive... as fighting Titans by her side." His brain seemed to process for a moment, realizing 'impulsive' wasn't the right word but unable to find the correct one.

    Jora laughed heartily. "Stefan, if I had to guess, I'd say she likes you. I'm sure she already finds you sufficiently impressive-- or sufficiently impulsive, if that's really your goal. Just do what the Norn would do. Be bold, and ask her."

    Stefan nodded thoughtfully. "How do I start?"


    The next evening, sober again

    Stefan approached casually. "Anakita, can you tell me about the Norn Bear?"

    Anakita looked a little blank. "It was big. It was a bear. What would you like to know about it?"

    "The whole story of how you and the others fought. All of it. But... not here. At the Wolf Shrine."

    "Why the Wolf Shrine?"

    "Because... um... that was where it happened."

    Mostly, though, because he wanted to talk to her alone.
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; 01-02-2011 at 02:42 PM.

  5. #5
    First Steps, Part Three: Anakita Snakecharm

    The Wolf Shrine, that evening

    Anakita hastily yanked her clothes back on. Her hands were shaking. What had she just done? She replayed the progression of events yet again in her mind.

    She and Stefan had walked the short distance from Sifhalla to the Wolf Shrine, making pleasant and companionable smalltalk. It had not even crossed Anakita's mind that there was any motive on Stefan's part besides discussing the Norn Bear; it was, after all, an impressive hunt and a grand tale.

    When they got to the shrine, he hadn't wanted to talk about bears at all. He had wanted to talk about people. About her. He had admitted to her that he found her attractive. It was what she had wanted, what she had waited years to hear. How much time had she wasted fretting, thinking him attractive too but unsure how to tell him? Too much time. Finally, they had talked.

    And then Anakita had somehow gone insane.

    She still couldn't quite explain her own behaviour. As she pulled her leggings up, she tried to figure it out, but there was no accounting for it.

    Anakita had meant to tell Stefan that she was attracted to him too, and that she wanted to have a relationship with him. Somehow that intention had morphed into getting his pants off. It was easier to just have sex than to talk about feelings, so she had done the former with great gusto. She had been all over him, and though he had seemed surprised, he certainly hadn't objected.

    Now everything was ruined.

    It had been good, at the time. Anakita had found it more than pleasurable. But she didn't just want to bed him, she wanted to be with him in the emotional as well as the physical sense. Now she had spoiled everything by wasting her chance on a quick lay.

    She couldn't get her boots on. Her hands were shaking too badly. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes and freezing there, not over the frustration with the boots but over the now forever-lost opportunity.

    Stefan noticed her struggle; he dropped to one knee on the cold stone and laced them up for her. It was a sweet gesture, but Anakita's stomach roiled-- why would he want an insane woman who couldn't even put on her own damn shoes?

    He straightened up, smiled at her, and said the last thing she had ever expected. "Will you come sleep in my room when we get back to Sifhalla?"

    Anakita was confused. "Why do you want me to?" After what had happened, wasn't he finished with her?

    "Because I want to spend time with you. And because there's no one I'd rather share a bearskin with on a cold winter night."

    The Ranger knew she should say no. He was obviously looking for another round, now that he had realized how easily she would give it away. She should stop this now, before her bruised heart was utterly shattered.

    She opened her mouth to tell him that, but instead her lips said, "Yes."
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; 01-02-2011 at 09:12 PM.

  6. #6
    First Steps, Part Four: Anakita Snakecharm and Stefan Baruch

    Sifhalla, that night

    Stefan had been terrified of telling Anakita how he felt, but now he thought they had sorted it out. Granted, the sex had been a major surprise, but it certainly hadn't seemed unnatural. Afterward Stefan had felt relaxed, and assumed that they were now in a relationship.

    In the short time since, though, Anakita had seemed... different. The Ranger was always taciturn, but now she was almost completely silent. He had tried to hold her in bed, beneath the animal skins, and she had allowed him to but her body was tense and rigid. He had never felt such a thing from her before, but he realized that she was afraid of him.

    Stefan wracked his brain trying to figure out what he had done to upset her so badly.

    There was no way she could have interpreted their encounter as him forcing himself on her. She had initiated everything, though he had of course responded enthusiastically. Stefan had gotten the impression that his performance had satisfied her. He didn't think he had said or done anything else that would give her grounds for worry.

    So what the hell was going on?

    Eventually, it dawned on him. He knew her. How much she had lost. How isolated she often felt. How little she had in her life that was just... stable. How little was permanent. He had assumed this would be stable and permanent-- but she hadn't. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

    Stefan touched her again, gently wrapping his arms around her. "I love you," he whispered softly and unmistakably. "I love you and I'm yours. For life, if you want me."

    She didn't respond in words right away, but her body relaxed like melting ice, completely and instantly. Stefan knew he had hit the mark accurately; he kissed her shoulder, relieved that the solution was so simple.

    Anakita smiled back at him in the darkness. "I love you too," she replied quietly. "I've loved you for a long time. Now you're mine... and now I'm yours."
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; 09-16-2013 at 01:41 AM.

  7. #7
    Count / Countess Tigers is offline Tigers's Avatar
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    A Monks Fate

    A Monks Fate

    Mara Dayne

    A Monk's Fate, Part 2: The Fallen

    For years Mara's dreams would be plagued with the sudden loss of Monks. She didn't know what was more frightening, a sudden disappearance of them all, or the slow fading of monks as the world changed with time. Mara had a feeling she knew how it would take place, the evidence was in her own children. Now, blessed with a boy and a girl, that Talya said looked like carbon copies of them, her first glimpse had been revealed.

    Both she and Kimmes were casters and yet none of her children showed any aptitude toward their mother's profession. She could not deny how painful it felt that none of her children would follow the path of a monk. She had always found it an honorable path, and important. Would the Tyria notice this trend? Was she the only one, and would they even care? How could monks not be important? They could be so crucial to the outcome of a battle.

    She questioned this and she often questioned Dwayna. It was not something she was proud of, but Dwayna had been so quiet. Mara had always found answers and now she was only plagued with questions. It was a heavy burden she carried, and it often times left the already quiet and reserved monk even more so.

    Even after the battle of Lion's Arch, Tyria still had problems that arose that called for her guild's help or assistance. If she and Kimmes had not been able to see her friends and family during the seasons, she would surly catch up with them on a mission. If there was one thing about her guild, they were there if they were needed. It was something the husbands of the women in the guild understood. They knew the price to remain free and the need to fight for that right, not only for themselves and their children, but Tyria as a whole.

    The guild was needed, a group of foolish fortune hunters risking the travel toward Old Ascalon had disappeared. It was feared they had likely been captured or killed by Charr. Talya, Anakita, Ryder, Mara, Constance, Stefan, Tallo and Sonja would travel through the Ascalon foothills toward Grenditch Courthouse to try and pick up the trail of these fortune hunters.

    An hour outside of Grenditch Courthouse, the seasoned fighters were attacked by a band of Charr. The horns of battle had been sounded and the sky echoed with the rumbling of the earth, the hail of fire from the heavens, the metallic clang of steel and the zipping sounds of arrows. Each knew their role and played it flawlessly in battle, but even the most seasoned of fighters could be felled with a lucky blow of a weapon or the shot of an arrow.

    Anakita's position had been overwhelmed and Constance and Stefan we fighting their way through them to keep their back line protected. It was in that fateful moment of distraction that a barrage of arrows found their mark. No longer feeling the enchantments around her, Talya chanced a glance backward to see their fallen Guild mate.

    "MARA!" Talya screamed above the noise.

    Leaving the adept warrior to go to his little sister, Tallo fought his way back to the gentle monk. Enraged at what had happened Talya doubled her efforts to clear the Charr. The sky broke open with fire as Sonja expended her energy and the ground ripped open at Ryder's command. Stefan and Constance's battle cries could be heard above the clash of steel and the crackle of thunder. Arrows flew from Anakita's bow with more ferocity, finding their targets.

    By the time they had cleared the field and rushed to Mara's side, a feeling of dread had spread throughout. Try as he might, Tallo could not revive Mara. The monk had taken injury before, but she had never fallen in battle like this. Talya fell to her knees beside her feeling the worst had happened. It should not take this long.

    "Open your eyes dammit!"

  8. #8
    Count / Countess Tigers is offline Tigers's Avatar
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    A Monks Fate

    A Monks Fate

    Mara Dayne

    A Monk's Fate, Part 3: Revelations

    Time seemed to stand still amongst these seasoned warriors. They hated to think of any of their guild falling and passing on through to The Mists. But never in their wildest dreams would they have expected it to be Mara, who was so pure and good. In that moment you questioned whatever faith or belief or god that you served. If someone like Mara could die after all she had done, then what good was believing in anything?

    You could see it etched in their faces, the anger, the pain and sorrow that passed from one emotion to another. She was yet young, she had young children at home, as many of them did. But just like them, Mara felt duty bound to help those in need and not a one amongst them wouldn't give their lives for the greater good, especially Mara. But if you were to ask, there wasn't one that while they loved their lives who wouldn't have given theirs up for Mara.

    Gently, with great care, Talya laid Mara down. The friend, sister and guild leader stood silently and walked several paces from the group. Her shoulders slumped, her fists balled at her side, she looked on the verge of challenging the very gods themselves. Talya let out an agonizing scream toward the heavens.


    Mara felt the warmth wash over her. She opened her eyes and was bathed in the ethereal light of Dwayna. Immediately the monk scrambled to her knees to pay homage to her patron god, but Dwayna held up a hand.

    "Be calm my child."

    Mara stood to her feet. Her friends, her family, her guild mates nowhere to be seen. Had she died, had she passed on to The Mists? Her thoughts were interrupted by Dwayna's prompting.

    "Come Mara Dayne and walk with me. I know you have questions, ones that have made you question your faith, ones that have made you question me." Dwayna replied.

    "These dreams that you have sent me, they are most disturbing. They trouble me to the core of my soul. I don't understand them." Mara admitted.

    Mara stopped and shamefully looked questioningly upon her patron goddess.

    "Why would you leave a world without monks? Why are you showing me this, a world that no longer needs them?"

    "The answers you seek are already known to you my child." Dwayna answered.

    "Men are selfish beings Mara, you yourself know this. They forget their gods, turn their back on faith and find ways that make their lives easier at a great cost to others. You have always known that a monk can hold a pivotal role in a battle. It is why monks are seen as not only a strength, but a great weakness as well. Already men scheme to find ways to win their wars without the aid of monks. You have only begun to witness this."

    Dwayna smiled sadly upon Mara, knowing the great pain she felt inside at this acknowledgment of truth.

    "My children have suffered enough, it is time to bring them home, to the rest and adulation they deserve. Soon there will be no more monks in Tyria."

    As the final truth unlocked the knowledge she felt hiding within her own heart, Mara grew pale and silent. A world without monks, how will they survive? So many more questions, yet her heart was burdened with the pain of this knowledge.

    "Why.." Mara began.

    "I will not leave Tyria helpless Mara, despite the selfish nature of man. You have been my most faithful servant, a heart more pure than any mans. Because of your unwavering faithfulness Mara Dayne, I am going to bless you. The old age is passing and a new one dawns on the horizon. You will not live to suffer the heartache of the passing of the old age, but you will live long enough to watch the birth of the new. A new age started through your children Mara Dayne."

    Mara was struck speechless. It was a bitter sweet gift, but a gift none the less. A honor bestowed upon her by the leader of the Six, her patron god.

    "The dawning of this new age will see the skills and strengths of a monk dispersed throughout the remaining professions. Many changes both good and ill will be falling upon the realm of man. But as this old age begins to fade and the new come forth, it will be your children that manifest these new talents and through them that all others will begin to show. "

    "Men will have to work together even harder in order to stem the tide of evil throughout the land. And it is you Mara Dayne that will give birth to this new age and your children that will lay its foundation. Take heart, do not mourn the passing of the old, but rejoice in this gift I give you to the new. But come, your friends suffer at your absence. It is not your time just yet."

    In that moment that Talya cried to the heaven's, Dwayna appeared before the fallen Mara.

    "Everything eventually dies Talya Sandari. Each one of you knows this each time you pick up a staff, a sword or a bow."
    The goddess replied.

    Talya turned toward Dwayna, her anger and pain evident in her face. A true follower of Balthazar, but respectful enough to bow her head.

    "But, it is not her time just yet." Dwayna stated.

    "Rise Mara, join your family, give them peace of heart and mind."

    As Mara began to stir, Dwayna disappeared. It was just as well, because the monk was suddenly showered in greetings from her guild mates and she would be easing their troubled hearts for hours to come.

  9. #9
    Count / Countess Quaxo9 is offline Quaxo9's Avatar
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    The Great White North
    The Northern Shiverpeaks – Seventeen Years Ago – Part 1

    A caravan of four carts pulled by huge, shaggy yaks plodded onward through a dense snowfall. A few shrouded forms walked alongside the carts, disappearing under a blanket of snow only to reappear after a shake of their robes. A lone figure peered upward at the sky from her position on the lead cart. She squinted her eyes against the snow, tiny flakes coming to rest on her fair lashes.

    “Father. A raven.”

    The child made her observation with the same quiet austerity that she usually did. Her father responded as he often did as well – with nothing more than a grunt – though he did cast a glance upward. Seeing nothing, he returned his attention to the treacherous way before them.

    He had taken a great risk making this journey and he had no idea when it would be over. They had been told of a Norn community up in the Northern Shiverpeaks. The news had been a bit of a surprise, considering the nomadic nature of the Norn, but Hermand had received it well. If the Norn had a settlement, then there was a place he could set up a permanent trading post. Their position in the merchant society would be secured.

    Again, the child beside him made a soft noise. He turned to silence her but was halted by what he saw coming through the veils of snow. Three massive black shapes approached seemingly out of the rock to their right. The shapes quickly took on the form of bears walking on their hind legs, each of them wearing heavy armour and carrying the tools of their trade. Hermand quickly drew the yak to a stop and held up his hand to signal as much to the train behind him.

    “Greetings. I am Hermand Terpein, the Flame Bard. This is my company…” The man’s enthusiastic introductions were abruptly cut off by the presence of an axe under his chin. The figure on the ground closest to the action quickly threw back his robes, energy arcing from his fists – energy that sputtered and died as an arrow buried itself deep in his chest. “Wait!” called Hermand, holding up his hand once more. The axe slid closer to his throat.

    A young voice suddenly rose from the folds of brown fabric beside the self-proclaimed bard. “We have travelled far to seek our Norn brethren. Please guide us to your encampment.” Her voice may have been youthful, but it was as commanding as it was mild. The axe moved from its place under Hermand’s beard and delicately snagged the hood on the child’s cloak to pull it away from her face. A halo of golden hair rested atop a smooth forehead and serious blue eyes matched in solemnity only by the grim line of her bloodless lips.

    The towering Norn took a step back and looked at his comrades. A young red-headed woman stood with them, looming far above the seated traveller’s heads despite her apparent youth. She gave the human youngling a toothy smile and it was only then that the child noticed that the Norn no longer looked like bears. “Come, then. Before the snow buries you and your puny animals.” The man spoke from behind a great helmet, but careful listening belied the amusement in his words. The Norn turned as one, assuming the human caravan would follow.

    “Not another word out of you, do you understand?” hissed Hermand as their cart lurched into motion. He was embarrassed and angry about losing one of his finest air elementalists, though at least now he wouldn’t have to pay him. The seven-year old girl gave no indication that she had heard him. Hermand gave her time to do so, then when no nod of assent came, he took her by her arm and drew her close to his mouth. “I mean it. Not. One. Word.” This time, the child nodded obediently and he set her back on the seat beside him. A little louder, he added: “Pull your hood up before you catch cold.” If he could have seen the look she gave him before she did as he asked, he might have put her over his knee whether the Norn could see them or not.

    Gunnar’s Hold was much more than a simple settlement. The ramparts rose suddenly out of the thick air as though they appeared simply by magic. The child couldn’t see an end to the massive stone walls, despite her squinting. “Wow.” She whispered, momentarily forgetting her promise. This place made Yak’s Bend look every bit the tiny hamlet that it was. And the Norn weren’t supposed to have a stable living place? Clearly they were in need of more accurate stories.

    Their arrival garnered a good deal of interest. Humans weren’t often seen this far from their settlements in the south and many of the Norn probably had never seen a member of the diminutive race. Hermand handed the reins to his daughter and told her to remain – his tone suggested that if she moved a muscle, she would regret her decision. He hopped down to the ground and approached a hulking man with a beard. The girl couldn’t help but marvel. Her father was not a small man, and these Norn made him look like a teenaged boy. She strained to hear their conversation, but had to give up as the Norn man motioned for Hermand to join him in a nearby tent.

    A presence at her elbow bid her turn and look up at the red-headed girl who had guided them here. The wolfish grin remained on her face, an air of superiority superseding the curiosity emanating from her eyes. “I am Sif. What is your name, small one?”

    “Constance.” The child answered simply, without returning a smile of her own. The Norn girl snorted lightly, pulling her lips into a smirk before turning away to disappear into the encampment. Only then did the human child let out the breath she was holding and allow a tiny smile to light her face. She had never been so excited in all her life – and she hoped against hope her father wasn’t going to get the rest of them killed before she had a chance to learn all she could about the Norn.
    Last edited by Quaxo9; 02-06-2011 at 08:50 PM.
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  10. #10
    Count / Countess Tigers is offline Tigers's Avatar
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    A Norn by any other name...

    A Norn by any other name...

    Sonja Redflame

    My name is Sonja Redflame. I've been called a bit of an oddity, a name I find rather amusing. I am something of a rarity amongst my people, a child of two very different worlds. I am both human and Norn. My father was a Vabbian Prince born with a Norn heart. He sought adventure and challenge, something a Norn does every day of their lives. My mother, she was a Norn an unstoppable force of strength and beauty, said to be related to Jora. She was afraid of no man or creature and was blessed by the Spirit of Bear, Wolf, Raven and Snow Leopard.

    A Norn earns their name and like my mother, I had earned mine from an early age. With hair the color of fire and courage to match my Elemental gifts it became evident when I was only 5 that I would be like my mother. Snatched up in the jaws of a Kveldulf and taken to their den to be devoured, my parents found me amongst the charred remains, not a scratch on me except where the Kveldulf had snatched me up in its teeth. My second incident occurred during the onset of a sudden blinding snow storm. It was by the light of my fire that we escaped death and separation in the storm. From that day forward, I had earned the name Redflame.

    We had lived amongst the Norn for 10 years, and for 10 years I had been happy and content. But living in the Shiverpeaks was dangerous and not only did you have to be wary of the creatures that roamed the frozen tundra, but nature itself. It was during the heart of winter, when the snow lay heavy upon the sides of the mountains making travel treacherous in the valleys between the peaks that my life changed. Every knowledgeable mountain dweller knew to avoid the heavy peaks during bad winters, but sometimes it wasn’t always possible and sometimes those that were not knowledgeable in the dangerous made grievous errors in judgment.

    I had traveled too far over toward the edge of the pass, mother had warned me, but I was young and I was Norn and felt invincible. We were quiet so as not to disturb the delicate powder of snow at the top, I was lingering longer than I should, looking over the edge marveling the distance down the slope. That was when the still of the day’s silence was broken with a thundering boom of as if the entire mountain were bursting apart from the inside.

    I remember my mother’s face when she turned to see how far away I was from them. She broke into a run, changing to a snow leopard as she raced to cover the distance between us and the falling snow from the mountainside. I had never been so scared; my heart beat within my chest as my mother raced toward me. But even though my life was in peril, I knew that I would be safe, because my mother was Hildr the Unstoppable.

    I don’t like to think back to that day, the day I felt my life had changed. I blamed myself for my mother’s death and although he never said so, I felt as if my father had too. But it is hard to close my eyes and not see her struggle on leopard’s feet, knocking me forward to safety behind a rock face in the hill. I saw her struggle to keep her feet, but the snow was like a raging river and it pulled her away. I wasn’t fast enough; I watched her tumble to her death, buried under the snow. I remember my father and I digging for her, finding her twisted body under the snow. It was the first time I cried.

    Hildr the Unstoppable had finally been stopped, and I had been the cause of it. We buried her there, beneath the snow, in this place that had been the end of her. My father tried to remain in the lands that were the heart of mother’s people, but he could not bear it. The second time I cried was when he told me we were leaving and that he did not plan to return. After that my father was distant and rarely spoke to me, it made my own inner guilt that much more difficult to bear.

    I remember vividly leaving the Shiverpeaks and traveling toward my father’s home lands. The air was so very different, stifling. The people there had dressed funny in my eyes, wearing so much clothing in the hot land. I remember the stares from those that were seeing a Norn for the first time. One could not forget the looks of disapproval at how I spoke, how I dressed, how I ate, and how I behaved. But the hardest thing to forget in this land was not what they did to me or expected from me, it was that my father had left me and had never returned.

    He dumped me off at his brother’s palace, a prince, I would later find out, which made me a prince’s daughter. They cut my hair, my long beautiful hair and made me dress in clothes I despised. They tried to civilize me to hide the fact that I was the child of a savage, a barbarian. My mother would not have approved of father’s decision, but I don’t know if she knew how her death would affect him. I was rebellious I did not make anything easy for them, but over time their teaching and their culture began to have an effect. But I would never be one of them, I would never belong. Besides, my heart was not content to live in such a stationary way, I may have only been half Norn, but I was still Norn.

    When I was old enough, and I had finally accepted the fact that my father would never return, I left. I bid farewell to Tahlkora, my cousin, and I set off to lands unknown. I traveled the Shiverpeaks and far off lands such as Cantha. But my heart was always restless and searching, perhaps for my father. In all my travels, I never found him.

    If one thing in the land of humans had taught me anything, it was the value of friendship. Through my various travels I have fought beside some of the bravest heroes I have ever known. They surly have a Norn heart or soul. There was just one thing that had always puzzled me, the love between my mother and father and the affect that losing part of that love could do to another. Of all my companions that I have traveled with, of my guild sister’s, my friends and family, I seemed to have held out the longest in love. It was easier for others to believe me a lover of men, for essence it was true. But outside appearances can be misleading, for no man had captured my heart. No man had been able to help me solve the fear within my heart. I could not bear to repeat history and leave a child alone in the world, as my father had done to me. And thus I have traveled alone, seeking companionship once in awhile to those worthy, and then I let prying eyes interpret their own truths to what they see.

    But I am yet still young and this is only the beginning of my story…..
    Last edited by Tigers; 02-14-2011 at 07:05 AM.

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