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The weather started to spit out the freezing rain that was typical of Khanduras in early spring, the traveler muttered a soft oath as she pulled her oiled wool cloak about her and thought longingly of the hot, humid jungles of her childhood. Entering the encampment of the once proud Order her mother had been part of, came another muttered oath at the sight of the squalor. |
Without thinking the traveler did a swift duck and roll, snapping to her feet with a javelin aimed a woman with nocked bow. "Who are you that would enter the camp of the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye?" the archer spoke in a clear, ringing tones that indicated she wouldn't take any nonsense. |
The point of the javelin went down as the traveler lowered the hood of her cloak, revealing blond hair the color of sunlight touched gold, bound into an intricate braid. "Tylassa daughter of Lesair Sunblade." |
Her eyes narrowed, but the arrow remained on it's target, the Sister responded, "Any woman could claim to be Lesair's daughter, you'll have to prove yourself better, stranger." |
Just nodding slightly the other woman, reached to her belt, unsheathing a sword who's blade looked as if it was fashioned of a beam of sunlight. "This be my proof, lady." Then the blade disappeared as the Sister lowered her bow. "My apologies, daughter of Lesair, but the times are dark and one cannot be too careful. Come with me, there is one who would speak with you." |
Some hours later found Tylassa ensconced under a small lean-to near a good sized campfire that travelers in a caravan had set up. Thinking over all that had transpired to the Sisterhood, left the young woman feeling her mother's death all that more keenly. What had seemed like a simple task as the last oath to a dying woman had suddenly turned into a much more monumental task than she ever anticipated. And what in the name of all that's holy had possessed her to agree to eventually destroy a greater demon?! Sighing, she turned over in her sleeping roll, and thought to herself "Tomorrow is another day, a long one..."and fell asleep with that last thought. |
Tylassa smiled a little the next morning, as the sun actually appeared in a clear blue sky and the temperatures warmed enough for her to do without the muffling cloak. Dressed in plain, battered leathers, she made sure that her javelins were easy to hand, that the straps to her buckler were tight enough to keep the small shield on her arm, but not tight enough to restrict blood flow. After fastening her belt with a few potions around her wait, Tylassa set off for a small cavern that was to test her skill in arms. The idea made her snort in disgust, the tribe her mother had joined in the jungles on the island of Skovos trained all the children (male and female alike) to be warriors from the moment they could toddle. |
A day later she came back with the head of a particularly nasty critter in a rough bag made of the scraps of cloth she found on the corpses of some Fallen, the Sunblade riding easily on her hip, all the javelins used, as well as the few arrows she'd found for the new bow at her back. While she was more skilled with the javelin, and a better marks woman with a bow, the elders of her tribe had made sure she knew how to use the blade she inherited from her mother. |
As always thoughts of her mother turned the young warrior grim. Lesair Sunblade died when Tylassa was 6 from one of the many fevers that an unwary soul could contract from the jungles. Even at the young age, Tylassa knew the meaning of an oath, and how important it was to keep an oath made to dying kin, especially if the person was a parent. The elders of the tribe that had adopted Lesair and her daughter gave the girl a day to grieve, then they began her training in earnest. Within ten years she was one of their finest young fighters...and time to fulfill what seemed like a simple promise: to bring the Sunblade to the sword's rightful owner. Tylassa thought that the sword belonged to the Order that Lesair had been a member of. The rogue never told her daughter or the tribe why she was so far from the usual stomping grounds of the Sisterhood, so Tylassa always wondered, but never once considered not fulfilling the promise she made. |
Standing before the old priestess as she handed over the bag with it's gruesome contents, the young woman began to wonder if her mother had seen what was going to happen to the Sisterhood... But such thoughts were pointless, and Tylassa ruthlessly suppressed them. |
Finally the old woman looked up from examining what had been brought back, "I'm sorry child, for having doubted you. But after seeing what has befallen the Sisters, I had to test you. My Order is not the rightful owner of the blade you carry. No one knows who it truly belongs to and if your mother did know, she never said. I'm truly sorry, my dear, that I wasn't able to help you in return for your assistance." |
Tylassa bowed her head slightly, her face a neutral mask as she thought mattes through, then raised her head. "Since you were unable to tell me anything about my mother's blade, could", she paused for a moment, then spoke again in a soft voice. "Could you tell me who my father was?" |
Closing her eyes in grief at the memory, the priestess sighed. That much she could do for the young woman who's appearance haunted her. "Yes, I can tell you that much. His name was Gideon of the Notched Crest, one of the knights that were in service to King Leoric, and one of the few that escaped the curse the mad king laid on his followers. I'm afraid he went down in battle while trying to deal with a bandit raid shortly before your mother knew she was carrying you." |
Struggling to keep from showing her emotions, Tylassa bowed to the elder, thanked her and walked off. Inside she was shaking, finally, finally! she knew who her father was. Who was as long dead as her mother. With her father having gone to join the ancestors, there was no way to fulfill the oath made to her mother. Without the oath being met, she was unable to return home. With despair in her heart, she decided to fulfill the quest given to her by her mother's order in the hopes she might find a way to track down who the rightful owner of the sword was. |
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