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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.
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