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Author Topic: A New Beginning - Lia Di'Makiir  (Read 648 times)

Chuckles_McChuck

A New Beginning - Lia Di'Makiir
« on: October 08, 2016, 07:25:04 pm »

Commemoration and Strategizing          Mustering what strength she can Lia surveys the wreckage that was once her livelihood for whatever supplies she can gather.  She sees none of her fellow shipmates as she riffles through drenched and tattered clothing in hopes of finding some signs of life beyond her own.  Emotion materializes once again on her features throughout her search; discovering the captain’s favorite cap, Ol’ Hikreg’s lucky wooden dice, Gam’s (their youngest and newest crewmate) scarf. With the sun past its peak, she decides to stay and create a memorial with all the personal effects she can find.  Grabbing a small crate she can sit on she plays her sea damaged flute to the best of her ability to her now lost family. As the sun begins to sink she places the flute with the rest of the items and readies a fire for the evening.          Distraught and restless the rising sun begins to great her to a less then lively reception.  Searching once more she slowly eats what little rations she finds and discovers a sturdy chest undamaged, ‘Captain Rumeim’s I presume,’ she concludes. She spends a good portion of the morning trying to pry, break and lightly kick the crate open, only to realize in her embarrassment that the locking mechanism was disengaged the whole time.  Inside she finds a ships log, a few blank books, some first circle scrolls and a pouch of Truth’s.  Lifting a rather large, well bound, and intricate blank book she concludes ‘My Old Grimoire is in the bottom of the Windjammers Bay, so I will need a new one and this should suffice for a start.’  Finally, after clearing the chest she takes what little rations left she finds and begins to move.          ‘Our next port of call was Port Hampstead and we were expected to arrive in about 3 days’ time from the attack.  I’m guessing my pursuers, whoever they may be, might continue looking that way just in case.  If I’m correct, Center and Fort Wayfare should be closer to where I’m currently located.  It’s a good location to stock up and find some work as well, for I will need to prepare for what’s to come.’          Following the road north, Lia manages to bind the book of high quality with new spells from the scrolls she found in the chest and begins to write.          Even after 50 odd years someone just cannot let it be.  Whatever your justifications, innocent lives were lost because of you and you will pay for they were friends, they were my family.  Know that when you meet me again, I will be as I was.  I will be strong again and I will show no mercy.          With that off her chest she breaths in controlled breaths and contemplates for some time before the scribbling continues.          I will need a plan starting with the highest of priorities.  As a sailor would confess after feeding the fish, “I simply need to regain my sea legs.”  Center used to be an adventurers hub which could provide me with capable compatriots.  These adventurers have no need to know who I was, but lying will not be wise either; if I stick to a first name basis, then I could potentially keep my secret longer without losing trust.  Of course, I will also need to find work in order to attain the power I require to finish this once and for all.          The lives lost will not be in vein.  While inadvisable at this time, it matters not; I will spread awareness of the deeds that were done to the Lucinda’s Star.  Hopefully it will bring the culprits to light, even if it means they find me before I’m ready.  Perhaps I will be fortuitous and have others by my side when it happens.  I am an adventurer after all now, so I should now be inclined to the habitual behavior of seeking endangerment.((In the word document I wrote this in the font I used for her writting in the book was a Brush Script, or handwritting.  Unfortunately I can't transfer that here, would have added a bit to this I think by implementing that she has neat handwriting.  In any case, it's still a different font here so it can be easily seperated from the narration and thought bubbles.))

 

Chuckles_McChuck

Ghosts of the past           
« Reply #1 on: November 15, 2016, 06:41:02 am »
Ghosts of the past

          Lia sits slightly hunched on a wooden log; her left arm relaxed across her legs, the other propped between her new Grimoire (resting on her right leg) and her chin.  She examines the cuts and bruises covering her arms and ponders how many wounds would show from beneath her garb.  She then looks up at the fire-lit night considering the last few weeks since she started her new journey, ‘as time moves forward and the world carries on I find myself caught in its cycle, evolving with it and yet… some things still remain, receding to archaic sentiments.’  Adjusting her arms she looks down at her grimoire, ‘what I previously wrote leads to the same process does it not, to be as I was?  I didn’t do so well with it then.  Can I become something else, someone better?’

          Wearing a disgruntled expression, she blows strands of hair away from her face and begins to open the book, ‘No not better, or different; one’s life and experiences should define them, not change who they distinctively are.  Instead of asking how to be better, I should become more cognizant of my own being or once again be lost in an endless cycle of torment.’  She soon notices after that last thought she has a quill is in her hand ready to write.

          It was not difficult to find work, everyone needs assistance at one point or another and through their hardships I will find my journey out and in, I met an interesting man named Daniel who appeared to have seen wonders of achievement while I remained lazing across the stars.  He was a kind soul who assisted me with the responsibilities I acquiesced.  In spite of his kindness, however, I found myself cornered, or perhaps paralyzed by his discernment.  I could see his eyes drilling into my soul, calculating and questioning my very being and motives.  He is Rofeneirite after all so I should not expect less, but should it be this way?  It is likely for the best, a paladin needs to be unwavering in their ideals, their devotion and the paths they steer.  If someone could manipulate those circumstances then these holy warriors could fall from grace…

          ‘Sure would be fun to see one right liquored, though.’ She laughs to herself before returning to her thoughtful expression.

          I envy it to be honest…

          Well, to a degree, but I could not help but question these same ideals as I carried on with his support.  Not his ideals mind you, but my own, and as I trudged through the sewers and crypts of Center I asked myself, how did I get here?  Not the most recent ‘wizards attacked my ship, killing all my friends and livelihood’, but everything before then, from Xandariel to the Black Wizards and beyond… and before.
My father was a successful merchant and my family could have anything we could possibly ask for, except for my mother…

          Because of…

          Me.  After all these years it is still hard to accept that my life came at the expense of another’s.  With an older brother and sister life was not easy; one babied me to the point of exhaustion while the other hated me more than anyone I have ever known.


          ‘I wish I could only count on one hand how many individuals hated me through this long life, but no creature carries so many arms.’

          What hurt the most was father, he whom would look upon me with neither love nor hate in his eyes?  Instead, I found them void of all expression as if he refused to accept my existence… or perhaps he died a bit inside and I only reminded him of the hole that was once full.  Inevitably I was sent to a boarding school to learn what I could of the family business, that is what my brother told me anyways, but I knew the truth, even before my sister sang it to the wind and rain.

          ‘She had such a beautiful voice.’

          I did not let the realities of my position to discourage my resolve and I took advantage of that predicament to prove my worth.  I studied trade and economy and yearned to master the arts.  I fell naturally in love with mind and manipulation and with it made many friends and lovers.  My ambitions and commitment brought me to the top of my studies, loving all who would help me succeed.  Before this place, I never felt such emotion and it was invigorating, but eventually even the most aloof of cats must find their way home and my time was coming soon.

          It was an emptiness that I returned to, the same blank stare that haunted my existence for so many years… only this time as he walked away from me I caught a slight, “Go find work at the dock near my ships; there, one will find many a woman in the line of work I learned you are best suited for.”


          A long pause awaits her hand to move again.  There are no tears, no sniffling, and no signs of anger.  She has accepted the wrongs in her life long ago, but she also knows she must never forget them.

          One of his skippers hired me, however, and like these recent times, I pressed onward into the adventure of sail and trade.  I kept the logs up to date and assisted with all the deals and merchandise.  I cannot remember his name anymore, but my Captain admired my perseverance and sent recommendations to my father every quarter.  Even then, it was still a far distant dream that I could ever accomplish anything in this business, made evident when a new ship for the company was commissioned with many recommendations that I should be its skipper, only to be refused.  It was at that moment I decided to leave the family business behind and make a new name for myself as an adventurer.

          I don’t think anyone is ever prepared for the life.  I yearned for affection, power, but most of all recognition.  I believe that is why Nathan affected me so much back then.  He reminded me once more how insignificant I was, how minuscule my existence was to beings such as him and in my weakness, I acted on both fear and hate.  An action that defined me as to who I am now and who I never want to be again.

          I’ve endured many trials through those times and have no doubt that I paid for my crimes.  Fear and hate lead to cruelty and deception and I must take accountability for my role.  While others are to blame for their own actions, actions that served only pettiness and hate and justified via sheer ignorance.  They will have what comes to them, but I tire of attempting to exact justice myself, it is not my business.  I have no desire to neither govern nor abide by any borders; I would assist those in need if I could.  Is that not within our base design, what we all desire, but instead we are lead to fear and hate, governed by the greed and lust that poisons our character.

          As these thoughts progress do I realize that no longer must I give in to the trepidation of worth that allows brutes to despise and enslave me.  To continue living in turmoil, giving to those who use me to fulfill but only their own egos and ambitions, discarding me like an injured horse once my usefulness has expired.  No more! I will make a stand! I will stand up for myself and for the freedom I so longed for, and this dream will not just stop with me.  All living beings deserve to be free from fear and hate, to not be ruled by those who capitalize at moments of fragility.  All beings have a soul do they not, a will of their own, well I say let them use it.  If hate or fear rules one’s mind then I will free it with death and I will continue fighting until those who fomented atone.  Everyone should have a chance to reconsider, to seek penance; or otherwise deny my redemption.  I am neither judge nor jury, such things are elements of a sovereign world, managed by tyrants who form these illusions of right and wrong as if they are the adjudicators.  I say let me choose what is right, let all people choose!

« Last Edit: March 17, 2021, 08:13:07 pm by Chuckles_McChuck »
 

Chuckles_McChuck

Affiliates: Untried and Established
« Reply #2 on: April 18, 2017, 07:31:13 pm »
Affiliates: Untried and Established

             With her book open, Lia sits contemplating on an all too familiar log, now imprinted with her signature butt groove.  Her continued exposure to this reminiscent lifestyle presents itself prominently upon her.  She no longer looks battered or bruised and the aforementioned humility can still be seen on her face and hair, but now the materials she exhibits are of some of the finest linens.  Demonstrating fine silks and velvets intricately stitched with silver threads might have the generic onlooker perceive her differently as was months ago with her old sailing garb.  One must also not forget the jewelry and fine weaponry now displayed on her person; if not for the fact that her wardrobe was tailored for both comfort and practicality, and that she still does not exhibit any make-up combined with a lacking desire to correct her disheveled hair, one might have expected her to be a prude (such as things once were so long ago).

            Looking completely relaxed to the untrained eye, a more cognizant observer might notice an undeniable readiness in her posture.  While peering within the turning pages she carries a derisive smile coupled with a deceivingly inviting demeanor.  When reaching the first blank page of her sizable book, she gracefully handles her quill and observes the sky in thoughtful reflection before writing.

            As to be expected, that first run in with Daniel would not be my last.  Through a variety forest trampling, dungeon delves, and

            She pauses briefly with a wry expression.

            trap triggerings, I learned that he comes from a rather large family of adventurers and traders who began a sort of adventuring outfitters guild called Angels.  The irony of this chance meeting delves even deeper when I met the Guild’s head (at least I believe she is at its head), who was no other than Ferrit Pandorn herself.  A face from the past whom I assisted considerably when she was young in experience and now proposes, essentially, a 180 of that same position.  Her prowess on our expedition showed more than a simple proposition of changing roles, to be honest.  She recognized me as should be expected, she did live with me after all and at the time I was the aloof one.  Still, it took long enough to have me wonder how the rumors of my death became exposed as fallacy to my enemies.

           Perhaps it is my pride that had me refuse her offer for room and board as I had once provided her.  This log and the dirt are getting no more comfortable and I’m growing weary of the act of soliciting for a bed.  I’m also finding it harder to both work and profit at my trade with such little room to store the required materials.  An intelligent person would take her offer and yet here I sit uncomfortably as I reminisce on the friends I’ve made.


           Lia then stares at the fire in contemplation, gently caressing the scar on her neck.

           I should apply that word with greater care, or more appropriately, choose those whom it applies with serious prudence.  I now know what I am capable of in fulfilling my damaged perspectives and so much harm came simply by letting others in.

           She briskly moves to the next paragraph, perhaps to leave behind the thoughts she just noted.

           So it turns out Ferrit is Daniel’s mother or is it, mother-in-law?  I guess it must be the latter as I am sure I would have met him as a child, but I was aloof.  I learned that he has a son whom I met not through Daniel, but on another adventure.  Charlie is his name and with a personality that readily challenges the incisive wit within me.  I honestly take pleasure in our bouts and I hope he is dignified enough in character to find amusement in them as well.  In spite of his talk about a Delair priestess who has made him swoon, I can’t help but speculate that he fancies me only to have his desire at a crossroads in reference to our respective species.  If I didn’t know better I would assume he was Aeridinite the way he talks.

           Snickering, she thinks, ‘His loss and it only adds fuel to our much-anticipated debates.’

           He is skilled in combat though and I find myself watching him scrupulously to learn from his art; when I’m not blasting him along with our opponents with fireballs.  I should really talk to him about this arson lust that leads to desiring the fire’s touch upon his person.  On many accounts, this reminds me of another whose proposed aid was challenging to my ego.  Going by Sibbicai, this Archmage, who also delights in flame, helped me traverse well-guarded territory for supplies and errands.  What startled me, however, was his proposal to tutor me in the arcane.  I kept face, but could not help but think the audacity to think of me a mere apprentice.  It was a few days later that I realized I was the haughty one.  His instructions would be a nice refresher and would possibly help me repopulate my spellbook, but in my experiences, such things can come with a price.  What are his motivations to train me?  What does he expect of me as a wizard?  I’ve been well established long before he started to read and so he might find himself disappointed with certain expectations not being met if his instructions are more subjective than the intricacies of Al’noth.

         Another powerful and quite intelligent, if not extraordinary, wizard I’ve grown accustomed to is Armand.  A human who refers to himself as a Gnuman, a gnomish half-human experiment?  This is quite possible given the fickle nature of gnomes as well as their general mastery of Al’noth and other scientific ventures.  Witnessing this spectacle leads me to desire to learn their tongue and I believe I could trick Armand to help me free of charge as well.  While I did say intelligent, I never meant in social occurrences.  He is incredibly naïve and distrait, misconstruing most conversations; an unfortunate affair for him as he is quite handsome otherwise.

         Through a


         Another pause leaves a more bewildered expression on her face before continuing.

         unique experience with Armand I ran into another old acquaintance from long ago.  Connor Garvall.. Garvail… Garvel??  Conner!  A sorcerer of old who joined with me in the Arcane Alliance when it was first formed.  Back then I found him to be calculating and level-headed; odd traits for a sorcerer and yet perfect for one of his capabilities.  I would guess him to be a formidable force now if my prior observations are correct, which they appear to be with exception to an impressive capacity toward impassive humor.  Unless he is actually serious?

         Lia looks up briefly with a wide grin, excitedly finishing her calligraphy.

         Humour, the euphoria to my heart and being and yet a feature so wrongfully removed and replaced with a heart of stone and bile.  I also met a Halfling of old who presents herself as Chimes, likely in the portrayal of the bells on her person.  I later learned her name was actually Acacea a name I recognize, but vaguely.  Still, she reminds me of Ozy, but friendlier and as expected, with humor.  Perhaps my draw to her is the wealth of knowledge she possesses.  Indeed, as much as the bard of old, I believe I will come to her often for advice and rumination, but most of all, she laughs at my attempts of humor.  It is comforting to know that after all the trauma both transmitted and received, the cruelty and dreary nature of this profession, and the persistent issues of my being that continue to haunt me this very day.  Someone can still laugh at my minor quips.

         Lia then closes her book and stands on that final thought of jubilation.  Holding her book close to chest she leaves the area with a gleaming expression on her face.
« Last Edit: February 22, 2021, 04:46:51 pm by Chuckles_McChuck »
 

Chuckles_McChuck

Re: A New Beginning - Lia Di'Makiir
« Reply #3 on: January 24, 2021, 03:32:53 pm »
Never Forget

          Lia spends an atypical amount of time staring at an unused book at her desk while lying comfortably on her bed, wrapped in a bearskin blanket.  This day is no different than any other for the past year except now she stares at her journal, wondering.  Finally, after losing (or perhaps winning?) what might have been the most bizarre internal debate of her life, she gets up and sashays to her journal as if the cogitation never took place.  Sitting on her chair she reads the journal for a few moments before grabbing her quill and begins to write.

                      Never forget.

          How long has it been since I resumed my passage onto the precipice of life?  Yet now I squander, lifeless, waiting for something to happen.  I shouldn't have taken Ferrit's offer for room and board; but as an alchemist, I needed space for my work.  Now comfort has reduced a once noble siren into this lackadaisical vessel. 

          This is why I must never forget.  The Black Wizards learned the fallacies of my alleged murder; the slaughter of my crew resulting from my enemy's pursuant attempt to conclude my story.  I then vowed to regain what I lost and repay them in kind, yet here I lay.


          Lost in her thoughts she sits as if petrified.  She continues writing slowly, building momentum as she goes.

          It is not denying myself vengeance that upsets me, nor the death of those men.  In truth I’ve come to recognize that as the passages of time elapse, I care little for the lives that were lost that day.  It all really comes down to the very first conversation I had when I started my career as an adventurer, when Quintayne and I conferred our ideals long ago at the Wild Surge Inn.  Yes, I’ve grown so much since then, but deep down those desires remain as they always have.  The very core of who and why I am, my ambition for power.  My desire to be one of the most powerful of wizards, an Enchantress so captivating that I am coveted for my many traits.  To become a leader of many, desired by the elite, noble in station, and feared by my enemies.

          That is why I must never forget who I am!  I’m an adventurer because I have yet to fulfill my destiny.  My tactics might have changed, but my motivations have never wavered.  The Black Wizards instilled fear into me because my path no longer aligned with theirs.  If I was to leave them then I was to die, therefore I had to die, temporarily, then hide so I may live.  Denying me the very reason I choose life. 

          I don’t seek revenge, I don’t seek their mercy either.  If anything, I will gain their respect.  Why?  Because they WILL FEAR ME!

« Last Edit: January 24, 2021, 03:38:02 pm by Chuckles_McChuck »