Tierra (Kite) Nena

[Drammor]

Name: Tierra (Kite) Nena

Age: 22 summers

Race: Human

Sex: Female

Hair: Neck length, light brown hair of a nearly blonde shade with metallic golden highlights. She wears her hair in simple, uncomplicated styles. Her hair is both pulled back in a braided knot and hidden by some form of headwear, and her bangs - which are just long enough to touch the top of her eyebrows - left out. Alternatively, her hair is sometimes gathered loosely but securely behind her head by a light metal barrette, and her bangs are still left to fall over her forehead.

Eyes: Tierra's soft magenta eyes are expressive of her feelings at nearly all times, and a soft grey latticing within them gives them the impression of a stone color. She rarely blinks, and often makes direct eye contact, making the unusual color of her eyes even more obvious.

Weight: 155 pounds

Height: 5' 6"

Appearance: Standing five feet and six inches tall, Tierra Nena is a sturdily built young woman whose features might not be beautiful, but they are certainly striking. Her soft magenta eyes are expressive of her feelings at nearly all times, and a soft grey latticing within them gives them the impression of a stone color. Her skin is a dusky olive hue that suggests she may hail from some southern desert region with a natural tan that gives her a truly exotic look. Her hair is neck length; light brown and nearly blonde in color, with metallic golden highlights. She wears her hair in simple, uncomplicated styles. Usually, her hair is both pulled back in a braided knot and hidden by a grey-blue cloth scarf that has a knot near the base of her neck, and a tail of cloth that trails down to between her shoulder blades, while her bangs are left out to cover her forehead. Alternatively, her hair is sometimes gathered loosely but securely behind her head by a light metal barrette, and her bangs are still left out. Tierra’s voice fits her stature – sturdy and a little husky, but almost certainly womanly. Her curves are not especially flattering for a young woman, and while her facial features are feminine, Tierra could certainly and easily pass herself off for a young man.

Tierra wears heavier clothes that cover her completely from the neck down. Around her neckline, she wears a silvery metal collar set with a smooth red gemstone at its front. Clasped just below that collar is a deep-hooded, sand yellow cloak that flows over her shoulders and covers most of her body. Beneath that cloak is a like-colored cape of strong but light silk, which keeps the left side of her body covered as far down as her midthigh. Visible beneath both cloak and cape, respectively, Tierra wears a long sleeved, grey-blue shirt, which is somewhat billowy and obviously padded for protection. The ridge-like collar of that same shirt keeps the hem of her cloak off her neck. On her forearms, she wears a pair of thin, stylized metal vambraces and, on her hands, a pair of tight fitting, grey-blue cloth gloves. On her right upper arm, one may catch sight of an armband made from chain links and red gemstones.

Around her hip, the young adventurer wears a thick but soft leather belt, on the right-hand and slightly rear side of which is a heavy-duty leather weapons harness that holsters her warhammer for a fast and easy draw. On the left, front side of this belt she keeps a small leather satchel, which is usually concealed by a cape of cloth. A sand yellow silk cape that clasps on the left side of her hip covers her right hip and leg as far down as her midcalf, in similar manner to a skirt; the skirt partitions her weapons harness and warhammer from her leggings. The lady’s leggings are the same grey-blue color of her shirt and gloves, and are just as billowy and obviously padded for her protection. Strapped securely to the outer side of her right thigh, a tooled leather pack of rather rectangular shape, which is easily accessible through the cape that covers that leg. On her feet, she sports a pair of comfortable leather walking boots. From their shape, one might discern that these boots are steel toed.

Personality: When meeting new people, or encountering and exploring new places, Tierra is usually quiet until she develops a better command of her surroundings. When in her element, on the other hand, her demeanor is confident, direct and slightly sarcastic. No matter her level of comfort, Tierra has difficulties hiding her intelligent nature – her eyes are always sharp and watching, whether she trusts her company or not. She can be cold and calculating to new people, and guarded always. Whether her words or her tone say it to her friends or, even friendly acquaintances, or not, she is genuinely caring. Insulting the woman is difficult at best, impossible when she has only just met someone. Despite her cold demeanor toward strangers, she has a soft spot for children, especially those without families of their own, and may go far out of her way to help them.

If danger is the way of the wind, Tierra turns ruthless. Her life is top priority, followed closely by the welfare of her companions. As such, she prefers to mind her own business; stirring up trouble or poking one’s nose in where it does not belong is the fastest way to the grave. Her nature is regularly not controlling, but it is one of her few vies when lives are at stake. When she has control, her safety is guaranteed. Friendly spars or even duels to anything but death see her in a more playful, facetious light – she may even taunt her opponent in jest.

Weapons: Tierra wields a seven-foot long, shadowtop-hafted, steel bec de corbin of expert quality with a two-and-a-half hand leather grip near its head. The weapon has a metal interruption in five feet along its haft, where a strong, mechanical fastener holds it securely in place, while allowing its wielder to perform a short series of twists, pulls and pushes to either separate the latter two feet of the weapon from the former five feet, or lock them together again. When separated, the bec de corbin becomes two weapons - a spiked steel warhammer, and a steel-capped quarterstaff. Tierra normally keeps the weapon in its separated state, combining them into the bec de corbin only on rare occasion. In most circumstances, the warhammer hangs from a weapons loop on her right hip, while the quarterstaff remains her walking stick.

The warhammer on her side is barely more than two feet long and composed entirely of steel, brass and leather. Where other weapons may have a pommel, Tierra's warhammer has a thick dowel of notched steel, which comes to a point after about two inches. Its haft is wrapped in braided leather, which is in turn secured to the haft by means of several brass tangs. The hammer's head is viciously forked by a severe crescent-shaped depression at the place where the flat of its head would otherwise be, giving that end of her weapon amazing armor-piercing qualities, in line with the normal bec de corbin style. At the top of her weapon, the warhammer has a broad, two-and-one-half inch double-edged steel blade for making simple punctures, and the back of the hammer has a blunted, five-inch long steel spike for making deeper pierces.

The quarterstaff portion of her bec de corbin is typically held in her right hand, its solid cap pointed at the ground. The center of its upper cap is interrupted by a notched steel hole, the receptor for the dowel of the warhammer, where the two weapons merge back into the bec de corbin. The quarterstaff's haft is made from seasoned shadowtop wood, sealed with a myriad of oils and tempered in a method that Garn learned during his travels as a youth from a forest-dwelling tribe outside known civilization.

Tierra also keeps a small, waterproofed leather satchel on her belt, which she can reach into and draw out a mix of powdered salt and acidic alchemical reagents to throw at an opponent's eyes or open wounds. This same mixture also ignites readily, giving her a fire starter when tinder is sparse. Although practiced in the skill of throwing this powder during combat, Tierra is no expert, so she refers to this weapon only rarely.

Beneath a small cape of waterproofed cloth on her right hip, a safe few inches in front of the weapons harness, that secures her warhammer; Tierra has a single-shot pistol, made mostly from steel, oak and brass. The gun is more like a flintlock than a modern pistol; its payload is a single small sphere of alloyed meteorite iron and silver, propelled by a charge. Unlike her other weapons, Tierra's gun could be described as magical. The charge her pistol uses is not powder, but a stored spell from her Ruination magicks, powered by the soul of an ancient and deranged sphinx. The beast's soul can fuel five shots from the pistol. In size, almost the entire gun fits easily into Tierra's palm, except for its short barrel, which juts just one inch past her fingers.

Lastly, Tierra keeps a spring-loaded, twin-bladed steel dagger designed for both breaking and trapping blades hidden beneath the capes of cloth on her left thigh, ready at a moment's notice. This blade has an angled handle, a full knuckle guard and a split trigger, positioned on both the dorsal and plantar sides of the handle. When this trigger is depressed, the blade traps spring out from either side of the weapon's blades, making it look like a strange, four-pronged weapon.


Armor, Clothing and Accessories: Tierra wears clothing that covers her from the neck down at all possible times. Though her gray-blue, long-sleeved shirt may initially appear to be nothing more than padded cloth, its high-cut V-neck collar stands up in a two-inch ridge meant to protect her neck from blows while still giving her a free range of motion. This collar is the first indication that her slightly billowy, padded shirt is more than it first appears to be. A mesh of fine metal cords tied in a series of complex knots lie beneath the first layer of cloth, designed to resist punctures, such as from arrows. Woven with the fabric of the shirt itself are thin, double layered iron plates, all concealed at her abdomen, lower back, upper back, chest, and the tops of her shoulders. All in all, this very complicated design gives Tierra an almost uninhibited range of motion and very light wardrobe, while providing her with some of the protection of true armor, especially warding off the danger from most conventional ranged weaponry.

Tierra wears a pair of gray-blue leggings are crafted in similar fashion to her shirt armor, though they conceal light chain or banded mail armor in the places that cover her inguinal region (the groin), the front of her thighs, her knees, the back of her knees, and her calves, instead of plate reinforced cords.

Tierra wears a pair of steel toed, calf-high leather walking boots, armored along her shin and the top of her foot in the same hidden fashion as her shirt, despite the fact that her leggings drop down as far as her ankles, causing an overlap in her leg and foot protection. She also accents her armored attire with a pair of full-fingered cloth gloves with corded plates laid at the back of her hands. To hide her hair, she wears a cloth scarf of the same gray-blue color of her shirt and leggings tied around her head with a knot near the base of her neck, and a tail of cloth that trails down to between her shoulder blades.

Woven into sewn in channels all over her shirt, leggings, boots and gloves are long, supple strips of a canvas-like material, the overall weave of which is designed to suture together her various pieces of clothing into a more singular piece. There are seven of these strips in all, and their entire function is to protect her from the harsh elements on her travels, particularly to keep water off her body during storms, and snow out from inside her clothes.

Over all her other clothing, Tierra wears a large, deep hooded, sand yellow leather cloak that mantles over her shoulders and falls down as far as her mid calves. This heavy-edged cloak is specially treated with oils, designed to keep the weather off her body while she travels. Other capes of sand yellow cloth or leather adorn her body as well, such as a thin pongee silk cape that clasps on top of her right shoulder and covers the left side of her torso, down to midthigh of her left leg, thus keeping her entire left arm hidden most of the time. Another such cape drapes around her hip, clasping at her left side and loosely covering her right leg down to her midcalf, in similar fashion to a skirt. This second skirt is worn under the weapons harness that holds her warhammer, but over a far smaller, third cape of waterproofed leather - which covers barely eight inches of space - that hides her gun. None of these cloth or leather capes cover her body so tightly as to impede her range of motion, and all of them are cut so as to catch the air around her and puff out when she jumps, runs or makes other swift, prolonged movements.

Around her neck, Tierra wears a low collar of silvery white metal, set with a translucent, red cabochon gemstone, which rests against her sternal notch. The stone is inhabited by the soul of a demon on its way to redemption, who causes the stone to pulse against Tierra’s neck when she is in danger. On each of her forearms, the adventurer wears a pair of light, nickel-iron vambraces engraved with flowing, concentric patterns and on her right upper arm is an armband of many small iron chains, into the links of which are set just as many small, faceted gemstones of the same color as the stone set in her collar. Six of these smaller stones glimmer with an inner light, but these lights are visible only in dim or worse lighting; each one of them contains the captured soul of some especially heinous demon or creature of legend. On her right ear is an elaborately crafted piece of jewelry, a stylized earcuff made of nickel and silver, and set with tiny, faceted orange corals. This earcuff is possessed by a feminine spirit of knowledge and secrets, named Gilda, who has consented to aiding Tierra in her journeys until she is laid to her final rest. To Tierra's dismay, however, the spirit answers only direct questions, and never volunteers more information than is asked of it, to a very precise degree.

In a tooled, waterproofed leather pack, secured via leather straps to the side of her right thigh, Tierra keeps a plethora of small tools for her magicks, including incense, an iron-cored teak wand, and some knotted silk cords, ink of various ingredients and colors, and several individually wrapped cloths containing specially prepared miscellaneous components. On the posterior side of this same pack, a small pocket stores several small spheres constructed from meteorite iron alloyed with purest silver. Another of the pack's pockets holds high quality paper and vellum of varying lengths and widths.

One very notable object in this pack is a crystal phial containing a pinch of bright blue gemstone powder, called atenaar. This powder can be used as an additional component for any of Tierra's Ruination or Shaping spells. If she uses this powder to cast a spell, that spell's power is enhanced greatly, though it does not give Tierra the ability to cast spells that would otherwise be beyond her.


Strengths: Tierra has been trained in and practiced for several years the use of the quarterstaff for self-defense, and is familiar with the warhammer from both fundamental instruction and practice in live combat across the course of her journeys. She is a dangerously quick draw from either her left or her right and has an astounding understanding of the bodies of living creatures, whether they are mortal things or creatures of legend and myth. At her heart though, Tierra is a spellcaster. Each of her three known forms of magic are unusual in nature, and defending against them effectively can range from tricky to double-edged.

Tierra is an intelligent young woman, perhaps far more intelligent than she herself realizes. She learns quickly and can adapt to new conditions with infuriating ease. Tierra learned early in her adventures that fighting honorably is a short road to death, so she has put together an arsenal of cunning tricks to help her out of the tight spots that may arise both in battle and out.

The young woman is a blacksmith of notable skill, a crack shot with her gun, a gifted spellcaster and a passable melee fighter. As Garn refused to openly having a girl for an apprentice at his forge, Tierra is adept in passing herself off for a clean-shaven young man. She can cook a mouth-watering meal with her pot and the normal findings of any forest or meadow and, has a kind of insight that is nearly unheard of for her young age.


Weaknesses: Though she has been traveling for the better part of six years, Tierra is what a person would call new to the adventuring lifestyle. Her lack of experience is apparent to anyone who scrutinizes her too closely, and has been the source of many a glaring blunder on her part.

Tierra learned to defend first, attack when necessary. Her nature is defensive, however, and her fighting style relies on defense far too greatly. She will often ignore gaps in an opponent's defense until she is certain that she has an opening to attack and that is not being deceived by a ruse or feint. Instead of attacking, Tierra prefers to exhaust her opponents, then strike. This style often gives her opponents enough time to find flaws in her defenses.

Although her magical skill is prodigious, Tierra knows only a handful of spells and her skill-at-arms is passable, but she is unfamiliar with most of the weapons outside of her own personal arsenal. Even her bec de corbin and its constituent weapons are difficult for her to use effectively; her other weapons have come from her need for less honorable ways to bring opponents down. Additionally, when Tierra cats a spell, she must wait before she can cast another. Depending on how powerful a spell she's just cast, this wait time can be anywhere from a few seconds up to a full minute, and a lot can happen in a minute.

Water in large doses is anathema to Tierra; she has a deep-rooted and irrational fear of water in large volumes. Partially related to this fear is the fear of creatures that reside in the water; their inhuman forms unnerve Tierra. She is uncomfortable and apprehensive in heavy fog or mist, a sensation of being trapped makes her strongly dislike being caught in the rain and she has (as a result) impulsively used magic to keep water off herself during a storm on more than one occasion. Nearby streams, lakes, rivers and especially oceans make Tierra feel nervous or jumpy. When Tierra bathes, the tub is always spelled against misfortune, and the room is warded against unwelcome visitors and spirits. This fear is inborn to Tierra, no traumatic event has ever transpired to cause it.


Skills and Magic: Tierra's journeys have often found her in dangerous locations where fleet feet and nimbleness are paramount to survival. As a result, Tierra has become adept in a degree of acrobatics and tumbling. Although her reflexes are not superhuman, she does seem to push the limits; her awareness of her surroundings and her reflexes are akin to the prowess of expert assassins and ascete ki masters, respectively. Taught by her hometown's stable master, she is also a talent on horseback, able to stay astride a frightened wild stallion... just not without a saddle.

Though barred from learning the magicks taught at the royal academy, Tierra was undaunted in her pursuit of a magic she could call her own. Over the course of her journeys, she has learned three different styles of magic, each as unusual and unique as the others. They are Ruination, Shaping and Terragaldrs.

Ruination is a very dark style of magic that Tierra learned from a repenting demon shortly before its suicide. The fiend had specifically requested that Tierra use its own soul to fuel a ward that would alert her to nearby danger, so that she could hopefully succeed in the inevitable adventures that would accompany her journeys. Ruination focuses on death energy, on flesh, and on infernal powers. Spells from the ruination style can augment the caster’s abilities, torture others, curse others, conceal a person’s self or others, and create wards. Its spells can require remaining completely still, specially knotted cords, invocations, talismans, specially prepared components, magic words, gestures, parchment bearing special symbols, a staff and/or guiding magical forces with the mind. Ruination spells draw their power from otherworldly sources, but the more powerful spells in this type of magic can also require the energy of captured souls. Some ruination spells can age their caster in leaps and bounds. Many of the components in Tierra's leg pack are used for this style of magic, as are all eight of her captured souls. Tierra herself is uncomfortable using the spells that draw their power from soul energy, preferring the spells with other components when she uses this style at all.

The following are the Ruination spells that Tierra has learned:

Axe of Infernal Light
This spell conjures into being a single-bladed battle-axe composed almost entirely of coherent blobs of crimson and golden light. It stands up to blows as well as tempered steel, and its edge cauterizes any wounds its lays into a victim, ensuring great pain with the merest scrape. The axe takes only as long to materialize as its magic words take time to speak, and its haft is made from a long strip of parchment bearing symbols, wrapped around itself several times. To cast, the Axe of Infernal Light requires the magic words "Sorece Uc" and a long strip of parchment bearing mystic symbols along both sides of its length, which will become its haft.

Blades of Dust
This spell takes the form of a gust of dust-filled, burning hot wind large enough to cover half of an average human. When the wind brushes over its victim, it parches and cracks their exposed skin, causing them to bleed slowly. A wound caused by blades of dust is never life threatening, but it is certainly painful. Its casting requires a pinch of dust or sand, the magic words "Erfec Ros", and a scarab's wing treated with oil. When the spell is cast, the scarab's wing withers, making it unfit for another casting.

Beam of Bone
The evocation called Beam of Bone manifests as a single, pencil-thin ray of ivory color, which jumps out at a single target within 50 feet of its caster. Any object or creature struck by the ray is covered in a shell of massive bone, measuring two feet in diameter. This casing can be broken off with a hard blow, usually from a weapon, but can be devastating to a victim's agility if it forms around a joint. The casting of this spell requires a gesture with one hand and a cotton cord that has been knotted so many times that it cannot bend in any meaningful way. When the spell is cast, every knot in the cord comes undone, making it unfit for another casting until the knots are retied.

Ray of Devilfire
This spell manifests as a cyclone of red and gray flames that reaches out from the caster's hand, from which brilliant orange and yellow sparks fly in all directions. The ray is only a few inches wide but can be extended at its caster's will up to fully fifteen feet long. The fire burns hot enough to ignite green wood after less than a minute of exposure. Perhaps worse than its physical effect, the devilfire also burns a victim's mental acuity, leaving them feeling drunk and "fuzzy”. Among Tierra's offensive spells, Ray of Devilfire tops the list. This spell's casting requires a gesture with one hand, the magic words "Urrogh Vel Ors" and a dried bat's wing that has been treated with human tears. The bat's wing is burned by the casting of the spell, so a new one must be used for another casting. Each time Ray of Devilfire is successfully cast, its caster ages another three weeks.

Aegis Circle
The aegis circle is one of the rare protective spells in the ruination style. When cast, it surrounds the caster in a bubble of nearly invisible force, which keeps weapons, spells, debris and similar matter at no less than arms' length from them. The ward is strong enough to rebuff falling rocks and weapon attacks of perhaps slightly greater than human strength. If stronger forces are hedged against its protection, the circle allows them passage without collapsing. The aegis circle also stops cold a single spell cast at it before dissipating, itself. An aegis circle can be maintained for several hours between castings, but its maintenance prevents the caster from casting other spells. Aegis Circle requires a short series of gestures with both hands to cast, as well as five pieces of paper bearing arcane symbols on them. When the spell is cast, the symbol-bearing papers fly out from the caster's hands and mark the outermost limits of the spell's protection but these papers can be reused for other castings of the spell. Every creature within arms' reach of the caster at the time of the spell's casting is counted under its protection.

Profane Blast
The Profane Blast creates a very compact and powerful explosion of eldritch blue smoke and energy. The detonation is of sufficient power to flinder living bones but affects only the living. Objects within the effect of a Profane Blast spell suffer no ill effects, but might become ruffled as if be a small breeze. The area of Tierra's Profane Blast spell is only one foot in diameter, but lacks not for power. The casting of a Profane Blast requires a gesture with one hand and a measure of soul energy. Most souls have enough vigor to fuel six Profane Blast spells.

Bloody Evocation of the Blade of Hell
This particularly wicked spell is one that Tierra knows but cannot cast. The spell summons a blade the size of the average shortsword, made wholly from crimson, crystalline pain, which bursts forth from the body of its victim. The blade drinks the blood of its victim, and dissolves upon their death, leaving only a withered corpse with a ragged gash on its torso. The casting of this spell requires the magic words "Gol Orn Ervena Hal," a series of gestures with one hand, severe concentration on the caster's behalf, and the consumption of 2 mortal souls. Additionally, the completion of this spell ages the caster four years prematurely and leaves them heavily disoriented for several minutes. Before Tierra can even attempt the casting of this spell, her skill in the Ruination magicks will need to be expanded five-fold, at the very least. Before that time, the advanced magicks involved would only kill her.

In Tierra's Ruination repertoire is another sort of magic, which is used to steal the souls of those she herself has slain. This magic cannot be used on anyone but the dead, and is wholly ineffective unless the victim was slain by Tierra herself. The ritual takes more than a minute to complete and requires both a receptacle for the soul and a long strip of vellum bearing special runes. As powerful as souls could make her Ruination magic, Tierra is not fond of capturing souls, and so performs this rite only on creatures and people who have met their end after a lifetime of wronging others.


Shaping, on the other hand, may seem like the very opposite of Ruination. The woman learned the Shaping style while poking about the vault of knowledge guarded by a sphinx in the desert, at about the same time she acquired Gilda. Its spells focus on holy energy, light and astral matter and can create weapons, armor, objects and art, bring prosperity to people, homes and land, prevent misfortune, heal wounds, repair damaged or broken objects, temporarily enchant items, evoke light and augment the abilities of living creatures. Shaping's spells can require invocations, offerings for supernatural forces, incense, words of power, careful visualization and/or a special talisman. Tierra's favorite and most commonly used spells are from the Shaping style.

The following spells are a part of Tierra's Shaping repertoire:

Lucent Shield
This defensive spell creates a shield of dazzling white light in midair, at any point up to ten feet away from Tierra, and in any orientation she desires. Its evocation requires a gesture with one hand and the magic word "Thyre" and, when first cast, it takes less than a single second to fully form. Tierra's shield is strong enough to deflect arrows and sword blows. The shield could even stop a charging man in armor, but nothing stronger. The shield can last upwards of a half minute before dissipating on its own. A Lucent Shield is immobile once it has formed, and could be used as a stepping-stone by someone light enough. Lucent Shield is perhaps Tierra's most commonly used spell in combat.

Lance of Silver
By coalescing pristine, silver-white light and astral fabric, this spell creates a seven-foot long war lance with a broad, triangular blade. Its haft fits the hand of whoever hefts it and its balance is impeccable. The lance seems to weigh only a few pounds, when swung or thrown, it strikes as though the whole weapon were made of iron. It is extremely resistant to blows, its edge can slice leather with ease and it is impervious to fire. The spell's casting requires that the caster be wrapped in the smoke of incense made with jasmine, a gesture with one hand, the magic word "Sier" and careful visualization of the lance to be created. Unfortunately, Tierra is completely untrained in the use of a war lance, and has only ever used the spell when in need of a spear to throw.

Hale
Hale infuses its recipient with astral energies and augments them, body and soul, with holy power. Any living creature blessed with the power of the hale spell will find their health, their eyesight, their mental acuity and willpower, their physical speed and strength - the limits of all of these things become nearly twice their norms and, the effects of the spell last until either two minutes have elapsed, or the caster articulates another spell. The casting of the hale spell requires that the caster be able to lay her hand against the body of the recipient and a cone or block of incense made with vanilla. The incense is consumed in the casting, so a new cone or block must be acquired for another casting. Hale has no effect on the unliving, so mechanical or similar prosthetics and the undead glean no benefit from this spell.

Rejuvenate
The Rejuvenate spell does just that - it rejuvenates its target. The recipient of a Rejuvenate spell is cured of all exhaustion and can be brought back even from the far brink of terminal dehydration. The spell closes puncture wounds, gashes and deep cuts and alleviates the aches and pain of such injuries. Tierra's rejuvenate spell also replaces the majority of the blood lost from the same injuries it closes but it cannot aid with internal bleeding or knit broken bones. Other feats of healing are simply beyond Tierra's skill with this spell. To be cast, the Rejuvenate spell requires that the caster be able to hold her open palm near the recipient of the spell, the magic word "Melia", and a special talisman containing pure water. Casting the spell draws on the astral energy held in the talisman's water, making it unfit for another casting until its natural stores of that energy return, which is usually about a day later. Tierra owns three of these talismans.

Mend
When a weapon breaks, her armor becomes damaged, a cloth is torn, or she kinds a key rusted into two pieces, Tierra turns to her Mend spell to remedy the situation. Given enough time, this spell could turn a few rusty scraps of metal back into a shining cuirass of plate armor but Tierra rarely has need for such prolonged castings of the rite. Generally speaking, the more severe the damage to an object, the longer it takes to fix the object. Simple cloth or leather tears mend over the course of a single breath, partially rusted or split pieces of mail can take nearly a minute to piece back together and full breaks in large objects, such as most weapons, can take upwards of an hour. The rite for the spell requires that the caster breathes incense made with both dragon's blood and lemon grass and that the magic words "Dwam Urum" be chanted as the caster touches each place on the object where repairs must be made.


Terragaldrs are a type of magic that draw their energy from the world around the caster, using her as a friendly conduit. Tierra learned terragaldrs from the inherited personal notes and research of an academy mage-historian, who in his life voted against Tierra being allowed entry to the royal academy of wizardry. It focuses on gravity, magnetism and sand, specifically moving these things around and using them to move other things. Effects in the terragaldr style (referred to as terragaldrs, and usually not as spells) can require gestures, the drawing of sigils, a wand, specific bodily postures and/or specially knotted cords. Though Tierra is far too young to benefit from it, the use of terragaldrs seems to grant the caster a longer lifespan. Most terragaldrs require the use of the caster's hands and a strong measure of hand-eye coordination, so Tierra is careful not to let her terragaldrs consume too much of her attention. Terragaldrs do not really have names per se, but for listing them here, I have approximated some names for them.

The following are the terragaldrs that Tierra has learned:

Control Sands
By the use of this terragaldr, the caster takes a teak wand in hand and draws a few pairs of sigils in the air, each of which manifests in the form of a luminescent blue rune. The caster may direct one of each of the pairs of sigils to float near a body of sand; the remaining sigils simply float near the end of her wand. By tapping on one of the sigils near her wand, the caster may direct the movements of the associated patch of sand on the other end of the paired sigil. Each pair of Tierra's sigils can affect a measure of sand up to one yard square and half an inch deep. Every inch a "close" sigil is moved can translate up to five feet of movement for a "far" sigil, and a simple flick of the wrist can turn a patch of sand to a different orientation. A patch of sand controlled by this terragaldr can support an enormous amount of weight and force - charging bull could be stopped with ease with walls made by this terragaldr. The use of this terragaldr requires only that the caster hold on to the teak wand for the entire duration of the spell. As soon as the wand leaves the caster's grip, so does the sand leave the magic's grip. When a wand is being used for this terragaldr, it cannot be used for any other.

Gravitic Knot
This terragaldr works by "grabbing" on to the gravitic forces surrounding its target. The grip of the terragaldr is powerful but gentle; having an upper limit of weight, it can lift or move over around four thousand pounds. Despite its great strength, the target of this terragaldr is never in danger of being harmed by the grip of the effect. This terragaldr requires that its caster to have tied a special, moving knot into the middle of a cord of silk. By taking a moment to attune an object or creature to the cord, the caster can slip the knot along the length of the cord, thus moving the attuned creature or object along with it. Therefore, if the terragaldr's controller holds a cord upright and slides the knot to the top of the cord, the attuned object or creature will be flung skyward. If the controller slides the knot away from their self, horizontally, the attuned creature is moved likewise. By moving a knot downward, the Terragladr's caster can even attempt to slam the attuned creature or object on the other side against the ground, or cause flying things to fall. Every inch of moving knot translates to about ten feet of moving attuned thing. When the controller stops moving the knot, the magic releases its grip on the attuned creature or object, as well.

Direct Iron
Functionally, this terragaldr is almost identical to the terragaldr for controlling sands. The terragaldr's user scribes a few pairs of sigils into the air with an iron-cored wand and assigns "far" sigils to a single ferrous object nearby. The "near" sigils float around the tip of the wand and can any one of them can be tapped upon to seize control of them until the terragaldr's controller no longer wills it. By moving the group of "near" sigils, the terragaldr's controller directs the movements of the associated ferrous object on the other side. Each sigil assigned to an object helps the terragaldr to lift and move up to 300 pounds of weight and every inch a "close" sigil is moved can translate up to five feet of movement for a "far" sigil, and a simple flick of the wrist can turn the associated object to a different orientation. Only one object can be affected by this terragaldr at a time and if the terragaldr's controller ceases to hold the wand attached to the sigils, the terragaldr releases its grip, as well. When a wand is being used for this terragaldr, it cannot be used for any other.


Aevui is a type of life magic. Though it is arcane in nature, its power comes from the world around its wielder, specifically from animals and a cycle of elements. The aevui cycle is composed of and flows in the direction of earth, wood, water, air, spirit and fire. its spells can be used to incorporate living animals to the body as totems to garner benefits from them, to summon spirits and creatures to do one’s bidding, to shape objects, weapons and armor from the elements of the aevui cycle, and to move the spirits of animals and mythical creatures through the aevui’s wielder to enhance or alter their abilities. Aevui magic can also summon an animal familiar and move the elements of its cycle, though the latter spells are taxing to their caster. Aevui spells can require magic words, various herbs, incense, concentration, emotional calm or heightened emotions, the drawing of runes, guiding magical forces with the mind, and/or talismans in their casting. Aevui is a type of magic that is unique to Tierra, though she has not yet developed it.


Bio: On the day of Tierra Cohr’s birth, in the reaches of the Has’haran deserts, near the border of the steel king’s land, a shaman was called into the Cohr household. The shaman wore the finest leathers and furs the tribe owned, many brightly colored ribbons and small metal trinkets to ward off spirits of ill fortune, mischief and worse. Though the man’s demeanor was normally very light-hearted to other nomads, that day his chin was set and his eyes were severe. Sota Ret’s duty was grave, and he took no joy in it at all.

The shaman Ret set a hand against the frightened midwife’s shoulder, he could feel her relax immediately. She turned her head to look up at him, and he spread pure oils across her forehead with one finger. A tear escaped from the corner of her eye. The midwife bowed her head, stood, and stepped back from the bundled child.

Sota sat down in the midwife’s place, Alla Cohr, the child’s mother, looked on at him apprehensively. He took a pipe from the leather bag on his side and lit the end. The shaman drew a long breath from the pipe and held it for a moment. When he breathed again, a sparkling white smoke filled the tent’s air. Sota lifted the fussing child into his arms and doubled back the leather fold the hid the infant’s face. She grew quiet at his gaze and smiled up at him. The old man did his best to return the favor.

As Sota looked at the child, he tousled her hair and ran a finger along her cheek. Her soft magenta eyes shone brightly, but for some reason, he did not want to believe it. Those moments in the Cohr household changed like seasons. At last, Sota looked up at Alla Cohr and glanced sidelong, turning his head with the look. The mother burst into tears, unable to contain herself. Roghen, the father, took her in his arms, whispering to her quietly.

“This child is no Cohr. She is no child of the Faran tribe. The spirit in her will bring ill fortune to the tribe.” His voice sounded dead as he spoke; he addressed the child’s father, “Roghen. You will take Tierra to the Steel King’s land. Leave her in care of one you have never met and return to the tribe.”

* * *

Roghen Cohr had been traveling for two days. On his journey, his heart had grown heavy; he felt only fortunate that the child’s mother did not have the chance to grow so close to their daughter these past days. Something inside him ached. With every step he took, it was as if he were tearing open an old wound.

Far behind Roghen were the sands his people knew well. In this place, grass and forestland lay in all directions, as far as the man could see. He had traveled here swiftly, sparing himself no quarter. He wanted this task done with. Up ahead, the trees broke, and beyond that, the homes of the Steel King’s people. Before this moment, he thought that this moment would have made him glad, but he was not. Instead, he felt a longing in his heart. “No,” he reminded himself, “I cannot take her back to the tribe with me. It is the word of the shaman. My– “ his voice caught in his throat. He could not even think the words, so he changed them, “This child is demon possessed. If I returned with her, her fate would be far worse than this. I can only do my best to provide well for her while I can provide for her at all.”

Roghen looked about at the buildings of these people’s town. He knew that Has’haran nomads knew the best ways to live and, though these people had no shamans and worked with fire and metal, they were not ignorant, either. The largest family tent in Faran was owned by the wealthiest family in the tribe, so it would make sense that the largest building in this town was owned by the wealthiest family. He looked along the line of wood and stone structures until he spied the largest among them. He crept up toward the door, wary of anyone that might see him – the shaman had warned him that if he met the child’s caretaker to be, the evil spirit may follow him back to the tribe.

With incredible care not to wake the sleeping babe, the man set down the basket she was in on the stoop of the door, outside of the range that someone might accidentally step on her, and set the note he prepared atop her small belly. He kissed Tierra gently on the forehead and whispered an invocation over her for protection, and fled into back to trees, where he watched and waited patiently for the child’s next parent to arrive.

Three hours passed.

* * *

Reggorn grunted as he lifted the heavy wooden barrel of refuse and cracked cups from the corner of the inn’s tavern. He hated slow nights; they always meant the heavy chores were left for him. Still, there was no use paying one of the local boys when the help wasn’t needed. With a word to one of the serving girls, he headed out the back door to dump the garbage.

As Reg walked down the steps toward the trash bin outside the city, something caught his eye. Setting down the barrel, he looked a little closer. It was a basket woven from thick desert grasses, with something wrapped in soft leather inside. A note sat atop the leather, and in the quiet, Reg swore he could hear someone sniffling. His mood fouling, he snatched up the letter and looked it over. It was in the King’s common, but the script had a flourish about it like nomad writing. He knew at once what the basket was.

He had always known that the desert barbarians got rid of children that seemed strange to them. As soon as a child displayed unusual characteristics, the nomad shamans were called on to look the child over. If they were found, by whatever backwards system the shamans used, to be possessed by a bad spirit, the child was cast out. Some were left to die in the desert; luckier ones were abandoned on the doors of peoples’ homes in the middle of the night. It was simply beyond Reg how anyone could treat their own children that way. They were heathens, the lot of them. He thought that about the nomads even before tonight, when he found a child wrapped in leather, in a basket on his doorstep. That only made it worse.

He took a deep breath, tried to calm himself, and folded back the leather covering the child’s face. The child was beautiful, but he saw at once why the nomads got rid of her. Eyes like those – a bright, yet soft magenta – weren’t common in any culture. She fussed a little, having just woken. Silently, Reg stroked the child’s cheek softly to calm her, folded the leather back over her to keep her warm, took her inside the inn without closing the door behind him and set the basket on a safe counter for the moment.

Red in the face, Reggorn walked back outside the inn and closed the door behind him. His anger boiled up inside him, and he half-growled, half-screamed out to the tree line, “Heathen! Coward! You’ll burn in Hell, dammit! Ain’t you feel nothing?! Ain’t you human?!” He went on like that for the better part of three minutes before finishing, “…and I hope you ain’t never come back! I’ll raise her, you gutless–“ Reg nearly choked, but instead, let out a roar so filled with hate it sent the birds from their trees.

Out in the forest, too far in the night to be seen by naked eyes, Roghen listened to it all. He was frozen in place, stunned by the sound of the man’s voice. He didn’t understand all of the words, but he didn’t need to. When the man bellowed at him, he found himself retreating – running – as if it would get him away from his shame and hide him from his wounded heart.

Reggorn took a breath and heaved a deep, heartfelt sigh. After a moment, he came to his senses and hauled the barrel of garbage out with the rest of it. Wiping the back of his hand across his brow, he looked back toward the inn and went inside. Reg picked up the bundled child from the counter and returned to the inn’s tavern. There, at the bar, he set the child down and whistled for the attention of the wenches who came to help him in the evenings, who immediately halted their chores, bringing near silence to the room. They knew that this whistle meant something important was happening. The child inside her bundle stirred and began to fuss. Reggorn turned away from his helping hands who had begun to gather about him and soothed the small child again.

Curious and disbelieving, one of the girls leaned toward the innkeeper, “Wha-“ her voice cracked. She stopped, and then tried again, “Reggorn… what’s that ye got there? Don’t tell me…”

With an expression of resignation, Reg cut her off right there, “It’s exactly what you think, Ruby. This child’s been left at our doorstep.”

One of the other women cried out in vehement protest, “Who’d jus’ leave a babe at an inn?! Dun they know there ain’t none but the innmaster what lives here?”

Reg waved his hands and the girls and patted the air, trying to quiet them, “Jay, the writing on the note’s from a Has’haran tribal hand.”

“So?” she demanded fiercely. She looked to the other five girls, who had seated themselves at nearby tables, trying to get some support from them.

“They gots a different way of livin’ than us. Whoever it were, probably didn’t even know what an inn is, and just assumed it were a big house. Asides, there be someone ‘at lives here. I do. And I’ll be taken in the child jes’ like ter plan, I’m guessin.”

Ruby made a face and began slowly, “Now, Reg, sweetheart… we all know you got the best intentions and there ain’t none in town that’ll tell yeh ye ain’t a good man, but ye’ve never ‘ad a child. Ye dun know what it’s like. Iffen anyun’ll be taken after that child, it’d be one of us.”

The innmaster shook his head at the woman and smiled, “Thank you, Ruby, but no. I’m a man of my word, and though I were in a fit when I said it, I told after that coward what left her here that I’d take her in. And I know it costs money to keep a child, which none of ye ‘ave got much to spare of, and what’s more do I know that none of ye have got the room to keep a child in. I got enough of both, and what I don’t, I can get.” He looked across their faces, each of which wore a look of uncertainty, shock and perhaps a little bit of wonder. To soothe them, he continued, “But, ladies, I would care for it very much iffen ye helped me raise her. I am new to this, after all.”

Ruby, a woman in her mid-30s and a mother of two herself, spoke as if she were speaking for all the women there, “Reg, if you’ve sworn to take her in, we’ll help you raise her. For the next couple of years, though, there will always be someone here to look after her with you. And I bet you’ll be regrettin’ never marryin’ when we’re here.” Her grin was sly, “Cause we’re gonna shape you into a right father, and you ain’t get none’a what comes along with it.” The women laughed, their tension broken, and Reg couldn’t help but laugh along with them. Ruby did go on though, after her joke was had, “Reg, that leaves just a couple of loose ends. Like, what’re you gonna tell her ‘bout her parents? And what’s name goin’ t’ be?”

Reggorn stroked his chin, feeling thoughtfully at his stubble. After a moment of deliberation, he said, “Ain’t do no good to raise a child with no parents. We’ll just make it known I had a night with a trader woman what was here in town last autumn, and I got left with her when the trader come back, as her ma’s travelin’ woulda been no good for her being raised.”

The women nodded in approval of Reg’s idea. One of them, Dawn, spoke up, “What about her mother’s name, then, Reg? And what color was her eyes? She’ll want to know those things, y’know.”

Reg stroked his chin again, “We’ll call her mother Althea… and she had eyes’a sky blue.”

“Very good, Reg,“ said Ruby, “but what’s the child’s name?”

Reggorn took the note from out of his pocket and unfolded it, looking it over. “Says here…” he began, “her name’s Tierra. But ain’t got no last name what’s said.”

Ruby part-laughed, part-sighed at the innkeeper, “Well, that should be obvious, Reg. You’re her father, after all. She’ll be Tierra Nena.”

Thus, it was decided.

* * *

Tierra walked in through of the open doors of the smith’s workshop and looked around for the man that should have been tending the forge. Finding him nowhere, she went to the side of the doorway and pulled on a long, thin rope that hung down from large room’s loft. The sound of a jingling bell filled the air.

Today, Tierra had been sent from the Red Oasis on an errand for nails from Garn, Shadowtop’s sole smith. The Red Oasis was the inn where Tierra called kip, as her father, Reggorn Nena was the innmaster there. Tierra apparently had a mother somewhere in the world, but she was raised by her father and the women who helped him run the inn and tavern there. Tierra had heard that in Garn’s earlier years, he lived in the royal city of Acadnia, where he was the king’s royal forge master. Garn was certainly a skilled enough craftsmith to live up to the tale, but she wondered why such an important person would want to retire from such a prestigious career in a little forest town like this one. Shadowtop was the town she lived in. It was a small town, but had many of the trappings of a much larger city. She supposed that was because the people who lived there didn’t want it to be any larger. One of its main exports, shadowtop wood, provided the city with all the money it ever needed, as the hardwood was rare in the world and in great demand from the neighboring provinces.

The shadowtop wood exported from the city came from the massive tree at its center, after which the city was named. Nearly a third of Shadowtop was covered by he tree’s wide canopy foliage, and the townspeople there had paid great expenses to have special towers built that would hold up some of its larger limbs as they grew outward, to ensure that more of the city would one day be covered. In the early spring through late summer, massive red flowers bloom on shadowtop trees, and this tree would cast the inner third its city in rich crimson radiance during the days of those seasons.

Garn’s voice called out from the loft above her, “Kite? S’at you?”

Kite. That was the name she earned four years ago, when she became the smith’s apprentice. Before that time, Garn had refused vehemently to have a girl for an apprentice at all, despite all her efforts to earn his favor. Then, one day, a knight errant had come through town; his sword suffered a crack down most of its length. The knight took the blade to Garn, whom he had heard could mend even such damage as though the blade were new.

While Garn was toiling on the blade, Tierra watched, and he set it back in the forge and waited for it to heat again. As the man was getting ready to draw the blade out of the forge, Tierra made her move. Using the techniques she learned for bringing people larger than herself off balance and onto the ground, Tierra grabbed Garn and threw him over on his back.

Tierra wasted no time picking up the astonished smith’s work out of the forge and began working at the sword herself, in its final stages of repair. Garn, when he gathered himself to his feet, swore violently at her, but the steady falls of her hammer did not falter, nor did she look up at him once. The man who was once the royal forgemaster to the king of Acadnia was left with no choice but to guide the young woman as she fixed the sword, or all of his effort would have been for nothing. To Garn’s further chagrin, the knight who owned the blade walked back into the shop just as Tierra was finishing the labor.

When the knight pressed on why the girl was working his blade instead of the master, Garn abashedly explained that the girl was his apprentice, and, to his surprise, the knight congratulated him on his open mindedness and ability to guide a young girl to produce such expert work. Tierra received a hefty punishment for her actions after the knight had left town, but when Garn tried to dismiss her, she asked when she should arrive for her lessons.

Garn would have been a liar if he did not accept the girl as his apprentice, then, so he told her that she would receive lessons in the afternoons, five days out of the week. He also explained to the girl, though, that not everyone would be as accepting of new notions as that knight was, and to protect Garn’s business, she would from that day forward be a young man as long as she toiled at the forge, and his name would be Kite. Since that day, Kite never missed a single day of lessons in smithing.

“Yes, Garn,” she called back, “I need some nails for the Red. There’s a fight what broke out last night.”

“Aye, I heard. I got ‘em ready for ya, lass. Sitting by the table down there.” Garn paused for a moment, then went on, “I’ll be seeing you in the afternoon’ for lessons, aye?”

“You will, Garn.” She went to the table and peered into a bucket there. She fished out several iron nails from it and placed them in a pocket of the pack slung at her side, just as Garn was coming down the stairs from the loft.

The smith was a large man, just over six feet and two inches tall, with broad, powerful shoulders and corded muscles. His tan skin was made tough from forgework and he wore three days worth of stubble on his chin. Garn’s hair was a rich reddish brown, beginning to turn gray with his age. He was dressed in simple, thick clothing that had many scorch marks and burns on it. “Tie-,“ he began, “Kite. Tell your father that I’ll need you for a little extra time today. I’ve got a little present for you.”

Tierra tilted her head to the side in wonder, the gloss in her eyes betraying her thoughts. Garn said nothing at all, having suddenly found something else to busy himself with. He had never shown her much reason to think that he was fond of her, especially not after the way she became his apprentice in the first place. The idea of getting a gift of any capacity from Garn was almost like the sky turning blue in the dead of night. She had never thought it possible. She wondered if Garn had grown fond of her at all over the last four years, but decided not to ask. “I’ll let him know. I’ll see you this afternoon.” she told him.

Tierra left the smith’s shop and headed over to the apothecary’s. The brawl from the night before somehow quickly turned from fists to knives. It had injured several men; a couple of them were workers at the tavern, most not. When Ruby, one of the women who was something of a mother to her, went to patch up the cuts on her fellow workers, she found that their supplies were in sore need. She was certain that her father got a sound talking to about that, but it was Tierra’s duty to go and get more supplies from the town’s apothecary, just like most of the errands that involved going about the city on foot did.

On her way to the apothecary, Tierra saw a kind-looking man in his mid-forties walking toward the Red Oasis. He walked with a tall staff, topped by an intricate-seeming array of crystals, and wore a set of blue and gold robes that fit him prestigiously. Blue and gold. Those were the colors of Acadnia, the royal city at the heart of Tierra’s home kingdom. The man stopped by a window where a bush of ill-attended flowers was wilting. He passed his hand over the flowers and they recovered almost instantly. They stood up toward the sun as if they were happy to be alive once again. The man was obviously a mage, and probably a graduate from Acadnia’s royal academy of magic.

That thought brought Tierra back to the present. As she looked for the things she needed from the apothecary, she thought it over. She’d be leaving within days, so that she could make her own way to capital city and try to join the academy there. She had made this commitment ages ago, though no one had quite believed her until she began to put together a list of the things she’s be taking with her on her journey. Tierra was determined to become a mage, no matter how strong or weak her own talent for magic may be. Untested as of yet, she had no idea what her knack was, but many of the graduates fresh from the academy who Tierra had spoken with on the matter encouraged her to join the academy. Tierra looked at the things she had gathered in the apothecary’s store, and went to his counter to pay for them.

* * *

Kite finished the last of the plates he’d be tasked with. Their measurements were very exact, and it made him wonder what, exactly, they were for. The plates were arranged into many different shapes, they were all very thin and, most of them seemed to be arranged into opposing pairs and matching pairs. Every different plate required a strange perforation around its edges, as though it were a filter for something, or something else were to be threaded through it. Kite’s project was taxing in most of the ways he knew, and it drew on nearly all of the skills as a smith that he had learned over the last four years, and then some. On several occasions, he needed to scrap a piece of metal and begin anew, and on a few others, he called on help from Garn. Sweat beaded his brow, and he was thankful of the tied scarf that kept his hair out of his face.

Kite took a deep breath and sighed, then stacked all of the plates over the last few days that he’d made in a basket near the work table. Since he and Garn had begun this project, it had also become filled with a pair of spools of strange steel string that Garn had crafted himself. Kite wondered what else Garn had been occupying his time with, as none of the normal work had been coming into or leaving the forge since the beginning of the week, but he felt it was best that he didn’t ask.

The forgemaster came out of a door that came from Garn’s personal work area, carrying spool of the same metal cord. He set it down in the basket and looked at Kite, rubbing the stubble of his chin, “Take this basket to the weaver Neva, Kite. We’re done with our end of this project. Don’t ask any questions about it while you’re there.”

Puzzled, Kite did as he was told. The basket was surprisingly light for all the work he and his mentor had done, but he certainly wasn’t complaining; the weaver’s shop was on the other side of town. As he reached the door, the old woman opened it before he could even knock. She eyed him in a way that made Kite a little uncomfortable.

“Tierra?” she asked abruptly. When Kite nodded in return, the old weaver shook her head, “Sorry, girl. The way you’re starting to look when you put on that name, it’s getting tougher to tell if you’re a young lady or lad.” Neva took a step out her doorway and went on, “I’ll take that from you. It must be getting heavy.” She took the basket from Kite’s arms before he could even react. “I have it on authority from Garn that you aren’t supposed to know much about this. Off with you, then.” She set the basket down inside her shop and turned around. Her gaze was sharp, and Kite knew better than to linger.

“See you another day, Neva.” Kite said as he began his way back to Garn’s forge.

“And you, child. Now scram before your master accuses you of asking questions.”

* * *


When Kite walked back in through the wide doors of the forge, Garn was nowhere to be seen and the room was dim. Normally, Garn would have been cleaning the forge and workshop, so his absence puzzled Kite. She pulled on the bell cord to sound her arrival, but Garn did not arrive from the loft above, either. She walked inside and looked around. To her surprise, most everything was just how she left it but, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she found one exception. Sitting on the worktable was a long handled tool. She walked forward to inspect it, and found that it was not a tool at all. Instead, it was a weapon.

The weapon’s haft was almost seven feet long, its head steel. Kite was familiar with all the materials of the object, but the purpose of its construction was an enigma to her. She ran her hand along the haft; its grain and texture told her it was shadowtop, but it had a strange gloss on it and it seemed too hard, even for such a sturdy wood, to be the shadowtop she knew so well. Along its haft was an interruption of thick steel, which she knew from her lessons should have made the haft weaker. The weapon had a leather grip near its haft, but even she knew to wield a polearm from there would be folly. And its head bore payload on three sides – a hammer with a moon-corved face on one side, a dagger blade off the top, and a spike opposite to the hammer. Its craft was more than expert; it made gape in awe. Whoever made this weapon must have surely been a muse of the trade.

She was brought suddenly from her reverie by the sound of footsteps behind her. Before she could turn, she could hear Garn’s voice, low and graveled, “Do you like it, Tierra?”

She paused, and instead of turning to face him, she ran her hand over the haft again. “It’s beautiful…” she murmured.

“Yer…” Garn began, but his voice seemed to catch, “yer gonna be leaving in just a couple days, aye?” There was something different about the way he sounded, as if his confidence were short, which was unusual for the man.

Tierra stared forward at the weapon, her eyes transfixed. “I am, yes. You know that, I’ve been talking about it for months. I’m going to Acadnia, to join the mage’s guild there. I’ve been saving money from my tips at the Red for just as long to pay for a room while I’m in the city.” She paused for a moment, the thoughts coming together in her head, “Garn, this isn’t for–“

“It’s yours. I want you to have it,“ he interrupted.

She spun around to look at him, protesting, “Garn, no! I can’t accept–“ she stopped cold, he was crying.

The forgemaster blushed heavily when Tierra saw him, but he spoke anyway, “I’ve known ye since yeh were just a babe, Tierra. When mah lettle brother tol’ me about yer mother bringin’ ye here, I thought about ‘ow I ‘ad never, uh, never married, aye? Ye didn’t…” he took a deep breath, “ye didn’t ever see any of the other childfolk about the shop, when ye were lettle, remember? It was just ye. It weren’t cause of no one wanted to be abou’, I just didn’t want ‘em here.”

Tierra frowned, uncertain of where Garn was rambling to.

“Ye were a sure blessin’, Tierra. I never had a child of my own, but…” he hesitated, tears were streaming down his face, “well, ye’re my niece, that’s all.” He paused, again, and Tierra wasn’t sure if he was going to go on before he blurted out, his voice cracking, “I, I’m gonna miss ya!”

With that, the man sobbed, and Tierra hugged him about his chest, consoling him as best she could. He hugged her back, but he didn’t speak for some time. It was probably better that way, it left Tierra to ponder. No one had ever told her that Reggorn and Garn were brothers, and it was never made known another way. She was certain that they were friends, but that was all she ever thought of it. What’s more, was that she had never been given reason to think that Garn was so fond of her. From the way he so vehemently protested her apprenticeship here, and how he spoke to her, she had always thought that he had only tolerated her and grown accustomed to her presence over time. That Garn was her uncle, it gave her a new perspective on him.

At last, he stopped crying and took a breath to steady himself. He cleared his throat, “I want you to have it, Tierra. Shadowtop’s a nice place, but ain’t everywhere so. And ye never know where the wind’ll take ye. And tain’t no lettle knife that’ll stop ye from highwaymen gettin’ atcha.” He hesitated for a moment, “And besides… it weren’t made for no one but ye.”

Tierra let go of Garn and turned back toward the table. For nearly a minute, an awkward silence passed between them. Suddenly, Tierra broke that silence, “Garn… I don’t know how to use this.”

Garn began to chuckle, then laughed outright, “Ha!” He sighed, and grinned down at her, though she did not see it, but she could hear it in his voice, “Well, yeah. I know. And I’ve only got a couple days to teach ya. Let’s get started.”

* * *

Tierra woke not early, but to the sun’s rays on her face. She squinted as she rolled out of bed and looked at the polished metal mirror on the far side of her room. Her eyes glimmered back at her and she smiled. The past two days had been tough for her. Since she’d be leaving today, she was relieved of her normal chores, so that she could focus on gathering everything she would need for her trip to the capital and saying her goodbyes to the people she knew. When she was doing neither of those things, her normal hours of forgework were replaced by a strict regimen from Garn, who trained her in the use of the weapon he’d given her, called a bec de corbin.

The primary use of the weapon, or “bec”, as she called it, was one that came to her easily. To swing the hammer at an opponent. The hammer’s face was curved inward like a crescent moon, so that its edges could pierce through armor, and since it was a polearm, it had a kick like a mule. Garn showed her how to adapt the hammerblow style she learned as a smith to the swing of this hammer. By now, she could swing the bec from nearly the bottom of its haft and reliably strike a target one hand across. For only two days of practice, she called this good progress.

Garn also taught her how to set the weapon against the ground, in case someone were charging her on horseback; the dagger blade off the top of the bec would impale and probably stop, messily, any horse that hit it. The weapon’s haft could even take that kind of abuse easily – it was made from shadowtop wood, an extremely durable material, but also had it been ‘tempered’ by Garn, using a method that was taught to him during his own days of traveling the world by a tribe of jungle-dwelling folk far in the south. In Garn’s experience, this kind of wood tempering turned normal maple wood into something steel-tipped, armor piercing arrows could not mar. This only made her wonder exactly how much strong the haft of her bec really was, as maple is soft by comparison to shadowtop. She was satisfied when Garn told her it was strong enough that she might never need to know.

Third, the five-inch long spike on the back of the bec de corbin was used for making much deeper and narrower punctures than either of the other two ends of the weapon. When she swung the spiked end of the bec like she would the hammer end, she found that it passed easily through leather and lesser steels. A blow like that could easily end a man’s life right through his helm or, maybe, even his breastplate. Garn taught her where to strike on heavy armor so that if it took enough damage, she could make it cumbersome and almost useless for its wearer, or even fall off. She wasn’t very good at that, yet.

The bec had even more uses to it. Sort of a secret to the weapon, Garn showed her the reason it had a spot of thick metal in the middle of its haft. With a short series of pulls, twists and pushes on either side of that spot, Garn revealed to her that the bec was designed to split into two different weapons. A warhammer and a quarterstaff. The warhammer was an easy concept for her, but she needed to learn the application of the dowel that stuck off its pommel. Other than just locking the two weapons back together, that dowel could be used to stab an opponent, or make scores in objects. Garn recommended that she only use it for this when really necessary, as cleaning the piece could be a bit of a pain.

The other ‘half’ of the bec de corbin was a quarterstaff. Reggorn and the tavern ladies that raised her taught her to use one of these. Being raised in a tavern was tough for a young girl, and she needed to know how to defend herself, just in case some drunken patron got a little too friendly. She had personally put that knowledge to use on more than one occasion. In hand to hand self-defense, she was a little lacking but, with a staff she was dangerous.

When Tierra asked about the stability of the joint between the two sides of the weapon, Garn told her that he had refined and alloyed a special ore called ‘adamant’ to the steel he used. Tierra had never before heard of this ore, so she asked Garn to elaborate. The forgemaster said he’d used his entire stock of adamant for her bec de corbin, but when he measured out how many grains of the metal he used, Tierra asked how this was even relevant, as so little metal surely couldn’t mean any major difference to the performance of steel. Garn’s reply came that this was, in fact, nearly a wealth of adamant, and that since so much had been added to the steel, it would likely never bend or break for hundreds of years. On close inspection, she did notice that the steel of the joint between the two weapons of was a bit darker in color and glossier than the steel of the rest of the bec de corbin, but she was still uncertain to the absolute veracity of his claim.

Tierra was amazed at the sheer number of uses and value for a single weapon like the bec de corbin that Garn had given her. He said that he’d been working on it for months, but that in the last few weeks, it had been the object of nearly his sole attention. She was very thankful for it.

Many of her goodbyes went well. Some people were a little heartfelt at seeing her go, others were very enthusiastic, encouraging her to find her fortune. Her father, Reggorn, was very quiet lately. She hadn’t said any farewells to him, since he’d be the last person she saw before she left, but he was acting like it was all one very long goodbye. Reggorn was quiet at meals, where he was normally very talkative. His mood was not foul by anyone’s measure, though; Tierra thought that he just didn’t want to have to admit she was going. Tierra felt much the same way about having to go away from her father.

For her journey to Acadnia, Tierra would be going on horseback, atop one of the horses from Shadowtop’s stable. One of the stable boys was supposed to accompany her, but she had never met him before. When they got to Acadnia, that stablehand was supposed to stick with her until she found a suitable inn, and then take both horses back to Shadowtop. Tierra had heard that the stablehand used to be a wayfarer, so his advice on inns to stay at would be sound.

These are the things that Tierra chose to go over in her mind while she got ready to go downstairs. She washed, with soap she had been saving for a special occasion, in a tub of hot water, brushed her hair, chose simple and adequate clothes and a traveler’s cloak for her journey and packed her bag. Taking a last look around her room with a little tear in her eye, she set off toward the kitchen, downstairs.

As she walked through the short hall that led to stairwell, she heard a collection voices in the rooms below. Since the Red Oasis was not yet serving hard drinks, she assumed this was overnight patrons having breakfast. When she began walking down the stairs, though, the voices seemed to hush a little, then quieted altogether. Slowly, she came into the kitchen and looked around.

In a semicircle across the kitchen were all the tavernwomen who helped keep the Red Oasis on its feet, Reggorn standing beside Garn, the weaver Neva, several of Tierra’s other friends and a few people she wasn’t sure she recognized. Now that Reggorn and Garn were standing side by side, Tierra could easily see how the two could be brothers. As though on some silent cue, everyone began moving at once. Neva approached Tierra while some of Reggorn’s help prepared a breakfast, Garn laid a long wrap of leather he’d been holding on the center counter by a box that was already there, Reggorn looked around and scratched his head for a moment, then began setting a table with Ruby and Jay, and others were promptly put to work by Dawn.

“You’re looking very nice today, young lady,“ Neva said to Tierra, bringing her attention away from the bustle of people. “You will be joining me at the table for some breakfast, won’t you?” Neva gestured over to the dining table, which was still being set, “As long as you’re sitting with me, dear, none of them will bother you for seating yourself.” Tierra nodded in return, still in slight awe at the people moving about. Before she knew it, she was sitting at the head of the table, with Neva on one side of her, her father on the other, and everyone else seated throughout the rest of the large, oval table.

The food was the best she’d ever tasted, she was certain that many of the people who made it used their own home recipes, spices they’d been saving for a special occasion, and not the usual for Red Oasis fare. She talked about many things with the people at the table – her hopes for her near future, the preparations she’d taken and her plans for when she hit the capital, other than just applying for entry at the mage’s guild. She also met the pair unfamiliar faces at the table. One of them was the stablehand that would be accompanying her to Acadnia, named Stephen. He seemed to be an alright young man, but he didn’t strike Tierra’s interest in any way. As a part-time companion, she thought of him to be fine, but they’d know each for three days, tops. The other man she didn’t know was named Dorick, and he was new help at the Red Oasis. Although she didn’t say it to him, Tierra was almost certain he’d last as long the other men that had helped out at the Red in the past.

* * *

That was just one of the many fond memories of the past six years. After that point, she received some gifts from her extended family in Shadowtop. The clothes and armor she was wearing now, and a very brightly polished bec de corbin. Ironically, it had turned out that she made the plates in her armor, though Garn didn’t tell her that was what they were for when she was making them. It was a nice surprise, and more than a little humorous.

Her journey into Acadnia was uneventful, and her stay in the city was infuriating. When she went to the mage’s academy to apply, she had been turned away on what she was told was an issue of her skill with magic. A vote of twelve councilors was taken, and she needed a swing vote on whether her admittance was allowed. The thirteenth councilor voted against her. After that, she set out on a quest to show up the mage’s guild by finding a magic of her own.

The same councilor that voted against her told her told her about a demon that had been amassing magical knowledge and wealth, thinking that by sending her there, he would be ridding himself of her nuisance forever. In a stroke of cosmic luck, however, that demon’s home had been infiltrated by a wizard seeking the demon’s treasure just weeks before, who had cast a powerful spell of guilt and grief on the demon just before the demon slew him. When Tierra arrived, the demon asked Tierra not only to kill him, but to learn the magicks that would be necessary to bind its soul into a gem forever, forcing it to live in suffering as penance for the horrible crimes that the demon had visited upon mankind in its twelve thousand years of life. Through that method, Tierra learn Ruination, the demon magic. At the same time, she gained a powerful tool. The collar around her neck contained the demon’s soul, which warns her whenever she is in danger.

Having learned a magic few other men knew, Tierra returned to Acadnia and sold much of the wealth she had taken from the demon’s home to buy herself a home in the city. She wrote home to her family in Shadowtop after that, telling them about what had happened. She wasn’t satisfied, though. Ruination was known by few, but it didn’t fulfill her end of the argument with the mage’s guild.

She became an adventurer, searching for a magic she could call her own. Following many unsuccessful adventures, she heard of a library in the desert that held the knowledge of an ancient and extinct culture. After venturing there, she encountered a deranged sphinx that guarded the place. A fight ensued, and she found herself stranded in the library, incapable of traveling home for her wounds, and fearing dehydration unto death. Stubbornly, she decided to plumb the library for its secrets, as she would apparently die here, anyway. While sorting through endless tomes, Tierra found a strange piece of jewelry and tried it on. She was partly surprised when it began talking to her, but dismissed the weirdness when thought she may have just gone crazy.

The earcuff was home to a spirit of knowledge and secrets, and with some trouble, Tierra got it to help her learn a type of magic she had found in the library. Her luck returning, one of the first spells of the style that old civilization called Shaping was a healing spell that also restored a person from dehydration and heat exhaustion, and there were a few of the components for its casting that had managed to avoid destruction by the ravages of time.

Triumphant, Tierra returned home to find that a messenger had been living in her house. She nearly killed him for his trespass, until he explained that he was waiting for her to return on order from an elder councilor from the Acadnian mage’s guild. Tierra’s wrathful hand stayed and the grateful messenger delivered the letters, notes and books he was tasked with giving her. From those pages, Tierra learned that the thirteenth councilor who voted against her had passed away, and that it was in his will that she received these writings. Looking into the inheritance further, Tierra found out that the old mage had voted against on the basis of her being a woman, and he resented that decision as his own death neared. These books and notes contained everything he had learned about an old form of magic that could not be defined into spells. They were more like commands told to the very forces of the world, the mage called them terragaldrs.

Since learning terragaldrs, Tierra’s efforts to learn her own magic have been largely unsuccessful. Nonetheless, she still latches onto every piece of arcane lore she can find in an attempt to learn enough about magic to make her own style.

Between those six years ago and now, Tierra had also picked up some new weapons and tools to help her along her way. She bought a gun for dealing with the demon, which turned out not to be a very big help and after the sphinx incident, she learned a new Ruination spell that would improve the power of the gun by far, but since firing the gun now slowly ripped apart the sphinx’s soul, she was hesitant to do fire it at all. After being set upon by a self-proclaimed rake who tried to have his way with her after a duel, she spent a small fortune on a type of dagger that would specialize in parrying, trapping and breaking blades of all sorts. In her adventures in general, she found it useful to have a powder for staring fires easily. This same alchemical powder made a fine weapon on any creature that had eyes or a mouth – that was just about everything.

In the desert library, from which she also took many, many books, Tierra also found a blue gem powder that was always store in small phials. Her study on the powder told her it cam from a gemstone called atenaar, which had the power to significantly enhance any spell it was cast in conjunction with. At first, she had three pinches, now she had only one. The first one she used while testing the powder’s potency. She cast it in conjunction with her beam of bone ruination. Instead of covering a small area with bone, she encased an entire maple tree, leaves and everything. That tree probably died years ago, but still stands, white and gleaming for its encasement. No one in Acadnia but Tierra knows why one of the mage’s guild trees suddenly became covered in inch-thick bone. Her other use for the powder was during one of her adventures, when she fell from a rocky ledge toward a river of liquid rock. She cast the lucent shield shaping beneath her, and was relieved when she landed upon a lucent floor. That shield spell held itself, free from Tierra’s accord, for nearly an hour before vanishing, giving the adventurer more than enough time to escape her luckless position.

During an adventure to the ruins of a forest temple, Tierra ran across a rare breed of horse referred to most often as a “forest horse.” With help from Gilda, the spirit in her earcuff, and nearly a week of coaxing, Tierra succeeded in taming the forest horse, and named him Weiss. Over time, Weiss and Tierra have developed a trust for one another, a bond made stronger by Tierra’s use of her Shaping magicks on Weiss. In the last year, the horse has allowed Tierra to ride him, and he carries many of her supplies.

Right now, Tierra was headed off toward forest land again; there was the home of an old wizard there who apparently passed away recently. Not passed away in the dead sense, but according to the rumor, the wizard had accidentally opened a portal to Hell some ten years ago, which swallowed him and closed up behind him. Tierra was sure that no one could survive ten years in Hell. So, all preparations made, Tierra was off toward arcane knowledge again, hoping that this place would lead to the breakthrough she needed to make her own magic, and fulfill her quest.

[Drammor]

Added to the bio... hoping that a kind and gracious BA Councillor will help me get the ball rolling while I finish the rest. >_> Please?

[Andurhil/Cookie]

Um... wow. x.x

That's a big profile right there. XD

I'll take a look at it, but uh... is it finished?

[Drammor]

Technically... no. I still have one or two more updates for the bio. The rest is about as done as done gets, though.

[Andurhil/Cookie]

Okay, I'll be reading this, just make another post here when the bio is complete, and I'll give my critique.

[Drammor]

Wondermous! I'll let you know ^_^

[Drammor]

Okay, Cookie. Bio complete.

Thanks for pointing out these things are supposed to be summaries, by the way.

[Andurhil/Cookie]

Okay XD

*approved*

And you can add to the bio at any time, if you really want to continue the story. The only issue is that it'll be a lot of reading for someone who wants to roleplay with you, which is why I suggested continuing it in the character fiction section.