Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

 

Fallen Dreams

3e D&D Living World

 

 

Community
Home
Members
Characters
News/Updates

World
Kurvhosau Culture
Kilgaul Culture
Kalvaria Culture
Oracan Culture
Deities
Cities/Maps of Rathora

Players
Bards Report
Character Guidelines
Reward Points
New Stuff
Message Board

DM Section
DMs Join
DM Theme
XP Standards
Message Board

Other
Links

 

KAORI

Level 1 half-elf/half-Kyozan wizard

 

 

The lovely young woman sits by herself in a corner of the tavern, her eyes buried in a book of some sort laid out on the table before her. She doesn’t seem to notice the growing noise of the revelers, nor does she respond to any of the advances of the more inebriated patrons. As far as anyone can tell, she is totally engrossed in her reading.

 

“No, no, no, Kaori, you must put all of your strength into the blow.” The older woman sighs in frustration, her Kyozan features tired. “Why won’t you focus?”

“Mother, I am! I can’t hit it any harder, no matter how much I focus.” The exasperated young girl rubs her hand, sore from the exercises of the day. “Face it, mother, I am not cut out to be a monk. My body just doesn’t have the strength.”

“I know, dear. That is why I have decided to apprentice you to Joachim, the mage. You have such a sharp mind, perhaps you will take more readily to wizardry, like your father.”

 

She looks up from her book suddenly, as if shocked out of her reverie. “What did you say?” she asks the young man that just walked up.

“I asked you if you would care to join us,” repeats the rather handsome man, looking her up and down slowly. Kaori begins to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, and glares at him. “No, I would not care to join you. Go back to your little friends.” With that, she looks back down at her book, and after a moment of stunned silence the young man leaves the table, muttering something about elves and their offspring.

 

The smell of potions brewing, various alchemical projects going on all around her. The sound of Johoiachim, her master’s son, breathing, too close behind her. She can feel his hand even before it touches her shoulder, slowly, softly, and she jerks away. “What are you doing?” she practically screams at him, nearly knocking over a flask in her anger. Or is it fear? She doesn’t take the time to think about it, just trying to back away from him, not noticing the hurt look in his eyes.

“I’m… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have…” he stammers, embarrassed. “I just thought… never mind.” He turns and practically runs out of the room.

She takes a moment, calming herself, then thinks quickly. “I think it time I leave, I doubt I’ll learn much more from his father after this.”

 

Two men start shouting at each other, and fists fly. One of the men gets punched in the jaw and goes flying, landing on the floor right next to her. She barely looks up as he groans, rubbing his chin. He stands and walks back towards the table, but the barkeep intercepts him and tells him and his friend to leave.

 

Running down the street, the sound of the bullies running after her, gaining on her. Looking around, she sees a side alley just down the way. She ducks in, almost throwing herself behind a crate. They follow her, but keep going, not seeing her hiding place.

“Stupid half-orcs,” she mutters under her breath, hurrying back out into the street, continuing on her errand.

 

She turns the page slowly, and a piece of paper falls out of the book. As she bends down to get it, she sees it is a painting of a sunset, the first she ever painted. A bit simple, but not bad for a ten year old, which she was at the time. She picks up the paper and looks sadly at it before returning it to its place in the book.

 

“Daddy, Daddy!” she cries as she runs over to her father.

He leans down and picks up his little girl, only six at the time. He smiles at her, his elven face brightening to see her. “My, you’re getting so big!” he exclaims.

“Are you going to stay long, Daddy?” she asks, looking at him with a child’s love.

“How could I say no to that face? Of course I will. And I brought you a present.” He sets her down and goes over to his bag, pulling out a small bundle. Opening it, she finds a small set of paints and brushes and a few pieces of parchment. They spend the rest of the day experimenting with her new paints.

 

She yawns, and stretches, trying not to notice the eyes of the men around her watching her every movement. She takes a sip of the tea next to her, oblivious to the fact it’s gone cold. Returning her focus to the book, she tries to find her place again, but once more memories come flooding back to her.

 

“This message is from some of your father’s friends. They said that he is in trouble and asked me to come join them. I’ll be back in a couple of months.”

She had never seen her mother so worried. Surely her father would be fine, wouldn’t he? Though she was no longer a child, she still could not see her father as anything other than a powerful wizard, invincible. “Why can’t I come with you? I’ve studied hard, it would be a chance for me to practice my skills!”

“Because it may be dangerous,” replied her mother. “Apparently the town he was staying in was over-run suddenly, but his friends think that with my help they may be able to free him. Now don’t argue. Continue your studies. I’ll leave you some money so you can provide for yourself while I’m gone. Don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as possible with your father.” With that, her mother left. Although she waited two years, her mother never returned.

 

A tear slowly trickled down her cheek, falling down to the page of the book she is trying to read. She hurriedly wipes it away, then stands, collects her things, and quickly goes upstairs to the room she rented for the night. Closing the door behind her, she slips into a nightgown, and then looks herself in the mirror. She closes her eyes, dreading the memory she knows will come next.

 

She’d tried painting on the side to earn some money when her mother’s funds ran out. She was good at the painting, too, but in Trayess there just wasn’t enough interest to provide her a living. She slowly started selling off the things in her mother’s house and she cut back on her diet, but still, she just didn’t have enough money to live on. That was when Krusk, the half-orc thug that had picked on her so much as a child, showed up at her door.

“I understand you need some money,” he jeered. She only had to look at his face once to know what he had in mind. She slammed the door on him, but he returned a few days later. She tried to tell herself she had no choice, that she was about to be thrown out on the street. Still, the memory of his touch made her flesh crawl. She rocked herself to sleep that night, curled up in a ball on her mother’s bed. Several more times he returned, each time leaving a decent price, but she hated herself for it, and she hated him.

 

She was rocking the same way now, tears streaming down her face. A storm had started outside, the rain beating on the roof above her. A peal of thunder shook the inn, and she remembered that a similar storm had raged that night as well.

 

Krusk was leering at her from across the room, and she could tell he was drunk. As he approached, she knew, somehow, that he would kill her tonight after taking what he wanted. Something in the way he staggered toward her, the mad look in his face. Without thinking about it, she quickly cast a spell on him, and he fell to the ground asleep. Knowing what she had to do, she took his sword and killed him, taking his money and anything else of value he had. She gathered up what few things she hadn’t sold and ran out into the storm, only certain that she had to get out of town.

 

She eventually falls asleep, dreaming now of what she’s done since then and what she will yet do.

 

She had sold everything in a market on the far side of town the following morning, buying a pony and some provisions, a few other necessities. What money she had taken from Krusk wouldn’t get her far, so she tried to save as much of it as she could. Without looking back, she left the city, not sure of where she would go. She had no idea where her mother and father were, but she knew Krusk’s friends would be after her when they found what had happened. First of all, she would have to make sure they didn’t find her, and what better place for a half-elf to hide than the city of half-elves, Keath? From there, she didn’t know. Perhaps she would be able to find her parents, or at least find out if they were still alive. Perhaps she would be able to continue her studies and become a powerful wizard like her father. Perhaps…

 

She dreams on through the night, and when morning comes, she awakens with a renewed sense of purpose. The dark night has passed, and she has again weathered the storm. She will survive, of that she is certain. After that, well, time will tell.