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Post by emeraldsnow on May 3, 2011 1:56:58 GMT -5
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Post by emeraldsnow on May 3, 2011 2:18:03 GMT -5
The Impending Darkness . . .
Darkness. I sit in waiting beneath the creaky boughs of this weathered old ship, quietly chewing on a piece of raw meat. The taste is horrid, but I will need my strength soon. I have no choice. I curse the low state to which I have been reduced! The vessel is set to dock in two more days. If I never live the life of a stowaway again, it will be too soon. Above me, I can hear the sounds of the crew and passengers as they go about the business of the day . . .
Cursed day! I cannot bring myself to open my precious eyes to greet it! So blinding! So . . . bright. I prefer the night. Everything is so much nicer then. All in contrast; the perfect hues and colors. The night truly is my companion. It has been almost an entire moon-cycle since my exile from Thultanthar. I heard this ship had set course for a remote island, and, after being shunned and hunted in mainland Cormyr, sounded like the best option.
Perhaps this new land will afford me new opportunities. 'Palaggar', I heard a man say from above . . . a Cormyrean outpost. It neighbors a Sembian claim called 'Uarhold.' This bodes quite well. I see the potential for much profit between the two. I believe my trade will be plied very well here. I look forward to this 'new beginning.'
I will be ready to go topside tomorrow night . . . thanks to the new clothes I got from a booked passenger that came below to sight-see.
They will never find the remains. I needed my strength . . .
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Post by emeraldsnow on May 7, 2011 3:02:46 GMT -5
In The Beginning . . .
I knew no form beyond ourselves, save that of the comforting darkness that enshrouded us all. The grand city of Thultanthar, or the 'Shadow Enclave' as it is known to some, had been cast into utter darkness countless generations ago. Many of us thought the tales were simply that . . . just stories. How can a child imagine what a 'sun' is or what 'light' is when even that child's great-grandparents were born into darkness? I was like so many others . . . 'Shadovar' we came to call ourselves, and we as a people followed the only deity that did not abandon us; Shar. I say 'we as a people' because there are a few that do not. I am one such Shadovar.
After our city had returned from the realm of shadow, and we had gotten past the initial convulsions of the entire reality-shattering ordeal, we were faced with many new opportunities, as well as many new problems. One of these problems is the ease by which a fugitive within our society can now flee. For centuries, they had nowhere to run to; now, however, an entire world sat beneath our great city. An entire world to hide in.
As a young woman, I was trained to fill a specialty niche for my people. I was trained to hunt these fugitives down and bring them back, dead or alive. I studied in great detail the anatomy, mind, and nature of the human being, knowing better how to hunt them, and where to strike them if need be. My conviction to withhold worship of any deity ensured that I could not be swayed by supplications of faith. I had been instilled with a very strict code of conduct and engagement that enforced a sense of higher pride among us hunters. I was 'very' good at what I did.
Then I was betrayed.
I was set up during a hunt to take the blame for a murder that took place in Thultanthar during my absence. I heard of this treachery through information sources that immediately died off after getting word to me. I was reluctant to believe it until I faced one of my own in his attempt to bring me back to answer for 'my' crime. After his death, I fled. I had become the hunted. I am now an exile. I will never be able to return to Thultanthar, and must seek out a new life in this blinding and chaotic world . . .
It can only be a matter of time before they find me here . . .
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