by Rayoson » Wed Jun 29, 2011 6:20 am
Name: Meriill’Altirr
Race: Drowolath
Age: 54
Equipment: Carries around 30-40 ada daily. Wields a steel Axe-Hammer, knifes in her boot, belt, and a retractable one in her left arm guard.
Light plate, and leather armor underneath as padding.
Traveling backpack with extra sets of clothing/armor, water skins one with water, and another with alcohol strong enough to knock a normal person out. Made from multiple fungi, several which may or may not be poisonous. Dried meat, bread, and fruit every now and then, are carried in the pack.
A small metal kit holding a small mirror, chopsticks, small scissors, needle and thread, alongside a mess kit.
A few low quality mana storing gems, in her clothing and armor.
Magic: Light control (second hand teachings from mother)
Beginning city: Chel'el'sussoloth
Clan: Clanless
Background: Born to an ex-member of the fallen legion, her mother had left after receiving a grievous injury requiring her to get a golem prosthetic for her leg. While Merrill does not know her father, the only comment from her mother that she managed to get from her was that he was the reason she lost her leg.
Quickly signing on to light trade caravan of the clan, she had some troubles managing being a guard and raising her daughter alone. Merrill was trained by her mother the second she could hold a weapon; she learned a few techniques from her concerning light and shadows. She grew to learn more and more from her, with aspirations of some day joining the Raiders, or even the Legion.
At 18, things changed for the worse. The caravan was attacked by a large group of Halmes bandits attacked the caravan. With overwhelming number the caravan was killed. Merrill’s mother managed to take down, but fell after she stumbled on her golem leg through over exertion of her mana. Merrill tried to run after her mother fell, using any of mana arts she could to evade capture. Sadly a dog attacked her. Quickly getting tackled by the dog, it bit at her right ear, tearing it badly.
She was taken prisoner, beaten, and practically dying. By the Halmes hand she was toured through the bandits travel, and forced to put on shows with her mana skills. Despite several attempts to escape, she was captured again and again. Often it was the leaders dog who would capture her again, a fierce mongrel who would always bite just deep enough to leave a wound scarred in pain, but just on the verge of lethal.
For two years she went through this routine before her first major incident. Often she would cry at night, scream, and basically cause trouble. The bandits tried many things to silence her, and it became worse when she learned their language roughly, cursing at them and insulting them in between times before she could muster strength to escape, or when she was to tired from a show to try something more devious.
Eventually the leader decided to go and finally “give” her something to shut up. Walking in to the cage, with his mongrel at heel, he dragged her up by her hair, and began to tell her of his little plan. He wagged his finger in front of her, tears in her eyes, she lashed out. To tired from a show, and unable to deal any real damage with her arms or scarred legs, she bit his hand. Removing his left hands index finger, he screamed and tossed her against the cage.
Grabbing her head, and breaking her jaw after she tried to resist. He took a pair of sharp scissors and did away with a part she couldn’t replace with a golem in a lifetime. The group and its leader merely laughed and howled at her pain and anguish. For a few days she was silent, and still forced to give out shows when they stopped at a Halmes settlement.
What were once curses and insults just became screams of anguish once she could manage to make sound again. The leader fed up with her, simply tossed in a skin filled cheap beer. The loss of her tongue was filled with alcohol, and so a sort of order was made. She kept putting on shows and acted “pleasant”; she’d get more to drink. If she acted out or tried to kill, she’d lose the drink, and get beaten.
Three years passed from then, and Merrill spent what time she could either drunk, training in her little cage with her skills or exercising as she could. The bandits had continued on as they could, with Merrill being a source of income when raiding was dry. Eventually they managed to make it to royalty so to speak. Stopping in a little far away kingdom, the group put on the best show they could. The leader giving a showman’s story that had been the set up for her show, a tale of heroism and daring that put the bandits in a good light and the fae in general as horrible.
The show went well and pleased the king and his people in general, so well he bought Merrill. So from one hand to another she was exchanged, trading in a horrible cage, for a horrible dungeon. She turned in to a showpiece for the king, and was treated only slightly worse then a prize horse. Then began the little gifts, at first it was a flower, then little things that could brighten a day. Left at the cell door, she soon grew determined to catch who ever were giving her so much.
She caught a glimpse of the one, and it was a young boy, the prince no less. Starting with timid actions, he grew bolder and bolder with his deeds. Until one day he started talking to her first from a safe distance out her reach, but he moved closer and closer as time went by. Merrill was a simple listener and giving the occasional sign of understanding or acknowledgment as he spoke. When the day came that he rested his back against the bars of her door, she reached out her hands ready to simply take his throat and choke the life out of him, but where would she be then?
5 years passed this way, with the prince learning from her and vice versa in litte ways. Merrill despite numerous plots and schemes to escape, all slowly began to fade from her thoughts as she grew to like him more and more. She had put more effort in to her mana powers, giving them more substance and power as the years passed. Her physical strength on the other hand was surprisingly healthy, as she spent time to exercise thanks to the little prince. Through his efforts she was given more freedoms, and little things to improve her life.
He was 17 by then, and his thoughts slowly began to turn to love for her. So one night, after many had gone to sleep, he took the keys to her gilded cage, and brought her to him for the night. In the morning Merrill woke first, lying next to the prince. Her hands circled his face as he slowly stirred, staring her in the eyes, and back at him. With a firm grasp and quick twist from her hands, a smiling silent face, turned to one of pure hatred.
Villagers and soldiers rallied to find her and kill her. Flooding in to the castle as soon the word spread. They began to search high and low for her. No one was left out from the castle search, children and families waited in the courtyard, while the armed searched. With everyone searching the castle high and low, and the king bellowing in fury at the discovery of his dead son.
Then fires began to wash over the place, Merrill left the place in a storm of fire. She spent the next six years hunting down the group that had caught her. She stole, and killed for what she needed on the surface, focusing on Halmes as she searched. Every last one of the people who held a hand in her capture and abuse she sought to kill. During her travels she took the time to broaden her horizon, seeing the ocean, and generally taking little bits of respite from her goals.
Eventually the deed was done, and she returned to the underworld, she lost all care towards clans and politics. Hiring herself as a mercenary for whomever could pay, quickly dealing death and pain as she went.
For 8 years she spent living fighting, drinking, and being apathetic to the world around her. It wasn’t until two years ago, that she started to care for something, slaves. Asides from having a burning hatred towards Halmes in general, she started to purchase and free slaves that she could get. Bringing them to either the surface if that was where they came from, or to Val’Raveran and setting them up with some money to start out. Always looking for work, and trying to stay away from heavy drinking on business.
Description: Stands at 5’10”, weighing at 147, eye are a dark brown, scars lace her body and she has a couple of small ones on her face. Due to staying above ground and being out of contact with a mana filled environment caused her body to be more gaunt and flatter in the chest region. A badly torn right ear and her hair are dyed black. Wears a leather cloak to cover her armor, and when she’s not wearing a helmet, she wears her hair short.
Time Zone/Activity: Pacific Time Zone, daily
