Nightflier's Blackdogs in Absalom

Game Master nightflier

Background
When Dresen Val'Zidane concocted his plan of sailing into Telderist with ancient treasures stolen from House Molvdeln that should have been his crew's first sign that things weren't going to end well. Never one to be easily intimdated his plan of action was put into motion and a week later the Ebon Aranae sailed into the Port of Telderist. Less than two days after its arrival, however, a crew of 170 personnel was found dead and the Ebon Aranae lay at the bottom of the Dying Sea. Captain Zidane, as his crew had called him, was the only one to survive the massacre and it was for no other reason than to serve as a reminder of what happens when one crosses House Molvdeln. Fueld by rage at the death of his crew, Zidane took his guns in hand and in the depths of Sekamina's caverns followed the trail back to Blackstrand. Knowing he would never be able to get close to Molvdeln, Dresen sought out Shurdriira Shynklyr, a successful merchant that has remained an intimidating force in the city since her creation of the house decades before. Her hopes back then were to burn House Molvdeln to the ground. Making an accord with the matron of House Shynklyr Dresen was commissioned to conduct covert assault missions against House Molvdeln with a small contingent of assassins. Following through with his tasking Dresen recruited six of the most elite house guards to become the 'Aranae'. Quick, agile, and strategic, the Aranae proved most useful in Shurdriira's plans of overthrowing her rival house.

After many successful missions, one of the six apprentices defected to House Molvdeln unknown. The Aranae began a citywide manhunt for their missing brethren and, in locating him, all the secrets of both House Shynklyr and House Molvdeln were relayed. By then it was too late. In retaliation against their longtime rivals, Molvdeln launched a counter-assault through means of political manipulation and bribery. One of the Shynklyr house wizards was bribed into botching a summoning spell for a powerful demon and was commanded to make it look like an accident. Alongside his five soldiers the Aranae came face-to-face with the demonic entity and once again, Captain Zidane lost his crew. Left defeated and near death the demon moved beyond the fading Zidane. The Shynklyr lineage was targeted and its young heiress, Elaugvyr, served as the receipient of demonic vengeance.

When he finally came to, he was laying in a pitch black room. He heard skittering as he opened his eyes and still couldn't see its source. It was a familiar voice that finally spoke, but Dresen couldn't make it out. "You've been asleep a very long time, Master. It seems Shurdriira puts her faith in the wrong person to protect her estate." Dresen chuckled but said nothing. Then everything went black again. Finally coming to again, he found himself laying in the same spot he had been before with Lady Shynklyr and a single one of her personal guards. He was congratulated on the deaths of the betrayers but was told that he was to be executed the following week to prevent any sort of fallout from the debacle. Though he nodded his acceptance, Dresen was already working on an escape plan. Thus was it convenient when the heiress and her brother departed Blackstrand for lands unknown. It gave Dresen just the reason to be seen near them though he would ensure they would not see him.

It is for these reasons that Dresen Val'Zidane, Former Captain of the Ebon Aranae and Former Commander of the Shynklyr Aranae, has now found himself in the company of the Black Dogs.

SALTUK CR 1/2
Male Hobgoblin Samurai (Sword Saint) 1
LN Medium Humanoid (Goblinoid)
Init +5; Senses Darkvision (60 feet); Perception +7
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DEFENSE
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AC 18, touch 15, flat-footed 13. . (+3 armor, +5 Dex)
hp 19 (1d10+9)
Fort +8, Ref +6, Will +5
Defensive Abilities Resolve (1/day)
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OFFENSE
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Spd 30 ft.
Melee Katana +7 (1d8+9/18-20/x2) and
. . Lucerne Hammer +7 (1d12+9/20/x2) and
. . Unarmed Strike +7 (1d3+6/20/x2) and
. . Wakizashi +7 (1d6+6/18-20/x2) and
. . Wushu dart +7 (1d3+6/20/x2)
Ranged Shortbow +6 (1d6/20/x3)
Special Attacks Dragon's Challenge +1/+1 (1/day), Iajutsu Strike +1d6/-4 AC (Full-round)
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STATISTICS
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Str 22, Dex 20, Con 22, Int 17, Wis 17, Cha 14
Base Atk +1; CMB +7; CMD 22
Feats Iron Will, Toughness +3
Traits Deft Dodger, Iron Liver
Skills Acrobatics +4, Climb +9, Craft (Calligraphy) +5, Diplomacy +6, Escape Artist +4, Fly +4, Handle Animal +6, Perception +7, Ride +8, Stealth +12, Survival +7, Swim +5 Modifiers Dragon's Skills
Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Goblin, Infernal
SQ Weapon Cord
Combat Gear Katana, Lucerne Hammer, Shortbow, Studded Leather, Wakizashi, Wushu dart (5); Other Gear Backpack (3 @ 6 lbs), Flint and steel, Pouch, belt (2 @ 1 lbs), Rope, silk (50 ft.), Sack (empty), Sack (empty), Waterskin, Weapon Cord, Whetstone
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SPECIAL ABILITIES
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Darkvision (60 feet) You can see in the dark (black and white vision only).
Dragon's Challenge +1/+1 (1/day) (Ex) +1 to damage target, -2 AC vs. others when used, allies gain +1 to hit the target of your challenge.
Dragon's Skills +1 (Ex) +1 to Survival checks for allies.
Iajutsu Strike +1d6/-4 AC (Full-round) (Ex) Draw sword as strike challenged foe for extra dam, but take AC penalty for 1 rd. You can use this once per foe, each day.
Resolve (1/day) (Ex) Starting at 1st level, the samurai gains resolve that he can call upon to endure even the most devastating wounds and aff lictions. He can use this ability once per day at 1st level, plus one additional time per day for every two samurai levels beyon
Weapon Cord Attached weapon can be recovered as a swift action.

One of the first things that I shall explain is the one that a lot of races do not understand. Our hierarchy is matriarchal. Drow females are supposed to be stronger and more powerful than the males. Drow males are treated more as servants than people and are there to do the bidding of the females. The highest-ranking male is still lower than the lowest ranked female. Marriage as such does not exist. The matrons often have more than one patron, but only one is the current patron at any given time. When they are no longer needed they are either sacrificed or put to work within the house. Other females may take, then discard, males when they please. Males are treated with contempt because this is how drow females are taught to treat them from birth and this tutoring only continues when they enter into training.

I was the one they chose not to cross.

Drow matrons are famous for multiple pregnancies. However they almost never result in multiple births. This is because ferocity is ingrained into the genetic code of drow DNA. In the womb, fetuses will fight until only the strongest survives. This war within the body results in a type of euphoria for the mother that can sometimes last as long as the pregnancy itself. At birth male infants are almost always put to death unless they exhibit some sort of innate potential.

I was one such case.

My memory has always been vivid even before I am supposed to have memories. When I sleep I dream of the womb and the fetal brethren that were defeated and absorbed into myself. I take pride in their deaths for their sacrifices have strengthened me. Born to Avuna Val'Zidane, the Matron of now-defunct House Val'Zidane and one of her elite guard, my birth was heralded as a blessing from the gods for my mother. When my abilities began to manifest some years later and word spread of my nobility, assassins were dispatched to kill Avuna and myself. My mother was not strong enough to survive the onslaught and, for reasons that elude me to this day, risked her life to ensure I escaped. House Val'Zidane fell that day and I fled the city.

My destination was Harrowspire.

The High Commadant of the Fighting Society refused my entry into Harrowspire until I killed fourteen of his students as proof of my worth. Accepted into Harrowspire my quest for vengeance began. I took up training with an exotic surface blade whose edge I have yet to find a match for. My training consisted of both might and magic, but I learned something far beyond that. My philosophy on life changed and I learned that no matter how vengeful I was it would never be enough. I was the last Val'Zidane in existence. If nothing else, I should appreciate that. In lieu of my changing mindset, I dedicated myself to the blade and it dedicated itself to me.

After 75 years training at Harrowspire and becoming one of the most feared fighters at the Society, Lissala's blessing came to me in the form of an envoy from House Shynklyr in Blackstrand. Seeing beyond my gender I was hired on for my skill, but only after passing the test of the Shynklyr envoy's Web Marshall. I passed the test and returned to Blackstrand as a Web Marshall, the title once held by the recently deceased captain of Shynklyr security.

I served there for another twenty years until the night that damned wizard botched his own bloody spell and summoned a demon into the house of Shurdriira Shynklyr. The demon nearly killed the Matron's daughter, Elaugyr, but fortunately for the young girl, her brother intervened summoning into existence an ability I had only ever heard of - the power of psicraft.

But the damage had been done.

The girl was somehow corrupted with what I can only assume to be the demon's essence. She would no longer be the same. As for me, I was to be executed for failure to protect the Matron's daughter. Instead, when Elaugvyr and Kalmafein Shurdriira decided to leave Blackstrand, I was ordered to pursue them and ensure their safety no matter the cost. Though that no longer remains my goal now that I am far from Blackstrand and the depths of Sekamina, I must say that I am not dissatisfied by the two's presence.

As such, I will continue to survive and, if possible, ensure their survival as well.

4d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 5, 1) = 15
4d6 ⇒ (2, 6, 5, 3) = 16
4d6 ⇒ (1, 6, 6, 6) = 19
4d6 ⇒ (2, 3, 1, 4) = 10
4d6 ⇒ (5, 4, 1, 6) = 16
4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 1, 5) = 12

In the depths below the surface, on the Sekamina level, in one of the larger caverns is a drow settlement of Blackstrand. Shurdriira Shynklyr became a successful merchant, accumulated enough wealth to create her own merchant house, House Shynklyr, and immediately began plotting to overthrow one of her long time rival houses, House Molvdeln. She chose one of the house guards, a strong warrior named Urlryn, to be her consort instead so she may continue her own lineage. She gave birth to Kalmafein, and was displeased that he was the first born, wanting to have a daughter to be next ruler of House Shynklyr. Twenty nine years passed before she decided to try again for a daughter. This time she was rewarded with the birth of a very beautiful baby girl, who she named Elaugvyr.

As she grew she became more radiant with increasing beauty, and she learnt to use her beauty and improving skill of the tongue to get her way on many occasions. Even though Kal, as she called Kalmafein, had to obey her direct orders, she preferred using her witty charming voice to get him to do little things for her, like stealing some cookies, and the like. She loved her brother very much for he was very much with her, even though he would get into trouble many times for being too much with her. With Kal being so willing to take her beatings and punishment for her, she became very loyal to her brother, at times using her influences to help her brother acquiring what he needed. Her mother was very please with Elaugvyr developing into a strong leader, being physically strong and agile to hand out punishment, yet very charismatic with intelligence and wisdom to back her decisions. For being far more physically and mentally strong than those of her age, Shurdriira believed that her daughter would lead House Shynklyr to become one of the most powerful houses and command a loyal army to the the house.

One day, while Kal was away on an errant, the house wizard was to hasty in summoning a more powerful demon. He made a small mistake, enough for the demon to spot and break free from the control of the wizard. After killing the wizard, the demon went on a killing rampage through the buildings of the compound. Eventually the demon came to her bedroom, where it found her cowering with dreadful fear. The demon pounced onto her ripping at her with it's filthy claws, inflicting serious wounds. She thought she was going to die like many others already, when she heard the demon screaming from pain as it attacked her. Before passing out from her injuries, she saw Kal standing above the fallen demon.

When she opened her eyes a few days later, she saw her brother sitting on a chair beside her bed. She tried to lift her arm to touch him, yet found she could hardly move her arm. The rotting fleshing on the demon's claws was covered with plenty diseases. The house priest did managed to heal many of her wounds, yet struggled to cure the diseases. Shurdriira ordered Kal to fetch a priest who specialized in diseases. By the time he returned and the priest could remove all the remaining diseases, her body was severely damaged resulting in being physically weaker and less agile. She was unable to wear her armour she proudly wore. Shurdrirra realizing that if the rival houses discovered that Elaugvyr had become very weak, they would take opportunities to eliminate her and her daughter, she commanded Kalmafein to remain at her side at all times. When she had to wear her armour, he had to ensure she did not falter, else suffer the consequences of failure to protect the image of the house.

Even though she was healed and cured of diseases, there was something physically different about her other than her major weakness and average agility. Something was left behind and flowed in her blood, and one day the hidden power began to manifest around her body when she was sitting in a dim lit corner of a room, giving Kal a huge fright when he looked back briefly at her to discover she was missing, only to see that she was blending slightly into the background. After that day she tried to hide from sight, succeeding and failing at times. A few days later Kal and herself realized that her strange ability only worked in areas of darkness or dim light. As the months went by practising her hiding with shadows her skill increased and more strange abilities began to also manifest.

She was busy practising her skills at moving stealthly when Kal was summoned to appear immediately before Shurdriira. Being curious, she followed Kal to a room where mother was sitting next to a table, the house priest standing to one side. She noted that the guards who normally present was instead standing outside by the door. After they entered the room, the guard closed the door, before Shurdriira spoke bluntly with command, "Kalmafein, explain this!", as she removed the cloth to reveal a leather armour shirt.

TO DO: Monkeygod to complete the conversation that ends with him instructed to leave the House.

The door opened with two guards walking in to escort Kal to his room, then to the compound gates of the house. After most of the House have gone to sleep for the day, she sneaked out of the compound to search for Kal, finding him at one of their favourite places. After speaking with him for a while about he worshipping Asmodeus, she realized their mother would not ever allow Kal back to the House. Elaugvyr decided that she would be going on a personal quest to find a way to reverse the damage caused by the diseases, and that her brother could still be with her.

Sylph Sorceress, Elemental Air Bloodline
(I would adjust to a cleric or druid of Gozreh, Vengeful God of Nature if more useful to the party. The backstory would remain the same.)

4d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 3, 3) = 12
4d6 ⇒ (6, 2, 4, 6) = 18
4d6 ⇒ (3, 1, 1, 6) = 11
4d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 6, 3) = 13
4d6 ⇒ (2, 5, 3, 6) = 16
4d6 ⇒ (5, 2, 4, 5) = 16

Willow was the daughter of a human mother and elven father, who settled in some of the recently tamed forests. They forged a simple, modest living with crafts and herb lore until... the bandits came. Her parents quickly hid the petite Willow in blankets under the bed. She stifled her screams in those blankets as the bandits beat her parents, demanding to know where their real money was hidden. Having no treasure but their daughter, her parents were unable to give a satisfying answer... and died slowly, bleeding out on their simple dirt floor.
Eventually the bandits overturned the bed, and found the quivering girl. They intended to rape her as some recompense for their unrewarded efforts, but suddenly the girl's shock and rage coelesced into lightning, and the bandits were skewered by repeated bolts.
When members of the Blackdogs passed by several days later, all they found was the terrified girl, her beaten parents, and the scorched bandits. As the girl survived when the bandits had not, they surmised she must be the one to wield the lightning. They offered her a chance to join their ranks.
At first she was uninterested. But as they spoke calmly and persistently to her, Willow began to see an opportunity for what she wanted most... revenge. Her parents' killers were already dead, but the real villain--civilization-- remained. Its vile stench was corrupting the beauty and balance of nature. Civilization had to be destroyed so that nature could be unfettered once more. Willow agreed to join the Blackdogs, and she will be true to any oath she makes to them, as long as they are true to their end. But in her deepest heart, she would like to see the end of all humanoids and the return of the rule of nature.

Wind Mystery
Tongues Curse
Lightning Breath Revelation
Touch of Electricity Revelation

Extra Revelation Feat
Still thinking for 2nd Feat

Charismatic trait
Face in the Crowd trait (tries to hide her appearance with scarves, hoods, etc)
Still thinking for other 2 traits

(stats originally rolled on page 2 of messageboard)
S 10
I 12
W 14 (14 +2 Race, -2 Trait)
D 18
Cn 12
Ch 24 (20 +2 Race, +2 Trait)

Iridae's beauty has always been strange and unearthly. Her hair is a metallic purple which cannot be cut with any normal blade. Her skin is milk white, with opalescent undertones of purple, pink, and green. Her eyes are the most unusual; large and violet with glowing golden, starburst pupils.

Iridae's unearthly beauty has always been a source of grief. Her father left, declaring 'that freak is no child of mine.' And her mother blamed her for her lover's departure, naming her 'unwanted' in the tongue of her people.

As Iridae's beauty grew, so did her mother's resentment. Her mother would often burn Iridae or pour acid on her, trying to scar her looks, but somehow her (aasimar) skin resisted all these attempts. One day Iridae's father happened to be passing back through town and caught a glimpse of the blossoming girl. He returned to his former lover and convinced her to sell their daughter into prostitution.
The strangely alluring girl soon had a waiting list of clients, and the parents could live as they'd always wished-- by the virtue of someone else's labor.

As time passed, the clients began reporting strange happenings during their encounters. During the height of (someone else's) passion, Iridae would often begin speaking a strange otherworldly language. *Celestial. Tongue's curse.* Wind would often blow around them, even in a windowless room. If someone was particularly cruel to her, they might find themselves or their dearest appendage blasted by lightning. *Wind Mystery, Touch of Electricity* But if they were gentle, they might find an injury from long ago miraculously healed. Iridae's father just shrugged at these reports and raised the price, as his daughter's client list continued to grow.

When (please supply name) heard of Iridae, he went to check out these rumors for himself. He spoke to her kindly, and asked her if she wanted this life. Iridae just shrugged and looked away. But when she spotted an injury on his arm (which X had left unhealed for just this purpose), she brushed it gently and the wound was gone. Confirming that the timid girl was some kind of healer, he asked if she would like to join their company. 'But, but, I can't fight,' she stammered. 'Maybe, maybe not,' he replied, 'but we certainly need healers. The only question is do you want to join us?' She nodded, 'b-but my father will never allow it.'

'Leave that to me.' Iridae gathered her meagre belongings, and X escorted her out. 'What is this?' bellowed Iridae's father. 'She is coming with me,' replied X with steel in his voice. 'But you can't do that, she's mine!'protested the father. 'She can do as she wishes, she is of age. What do you choose girl?' Iridae began to stammer, and heavenly words began to pour from her lips. 'Look at me,' X insisted. 'You must speak clearly. You must speak up for yourself for the first time in your life. Do you wish to come with me?' Iridae's eyes focused and she said simply and clearly, 'Yes.'

'There you have it,' said X, thumbing the edge of his blade. 'And if you even try to pursue her, you will find a lot more like me waiting for you.' Then he sccoped up the gold from the table, saying 'I believe she earned this, not you,' and whisked Iridae out into the free air. Iridae didn't know where they were going, but decided right then that she would follow X into Hell itself.

He awoke with a start, and his instincts and training took over. First he tried to roll to the left, then to the right with explosion, and suddenness. Nothing he couldn’t move beyond a slight budging against the bonds that held him. His next instinct was to stop for a moment, and gather facts about his situation.
It was dark in the room. He lay on a cold slab, with metal bands securing his arms, legs, head, and midsection. The smell of old blood, and excrement filled the room. He was in pain…not the severe pain of major injury, but more the combination of deep bruising, and many small cuts. After testing his bonds he realized he would not be able to use his immense strength, and agility to break these bonds…he needed to think.
He remembered the combat. Garan and he were the last. He was the stronger, but Garan seemed to feel no pain. It was for all intents and purposes a draw. Then his opportunity presented itself. As Garan backpedaled from yet another vicious strike, Garan retreated, and slipped in a small pool of blood. I wasted no time spring to the offensive, and knocking the tough hobgoblin to the ground. Then the glory of victory…Kneeling with his knee on his foe’s neck ready to end his life, he looked up at his masters. They nodded for him to finish the combat. He looked down in Garan’s eyes, and the memories flooded in.
There were 12 of them to begin with. Their life consisted of constant exercises, and training to make them as physically competent as they could be…then the endless drilling of the use of their weapons. As they aged their number decreased. First Komsata fell his death on an icy mountain crossing. Then Fedralon from the bite of the scorpion snake during a night desert mission. Eight made it through until the educational part of their training began. Both Hrdath, and Lyltth were “sent away” for not picking up on their lessons quickly enough. They were down to six…pitted against each other…until only Garan and he were left. Garan who was both his biggest challenge, and the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend.
He looked down at his foe’s face one more time, and saw the resignation in his eyes. He then raised his knee, and with a mighty blow knocked him into oblivion. “Kill him as commanded”, came the voice from the darkened alcove where his masters watched the contest.
“No”! “It is not smart”. “He is a great warrior, and can help the cause”. “He is an asset”. Suddenly a growl from above and they swarmed him. He killed nine with his bare hands before they subdued him. As they carried him away he regained consciousness long enough to overhear the final words.
“Garan is our champion”. “he follows orders as he should”. “What is your answer Garan”.
“Death”. “I call for his death”.
“Yes”. “Your wish shall be granted”. “We will bind him away until you are ready to sacrifice him to our god”.
With renewed effort, he strained at his bonds. Then a door opened, and someone entered. It was time to die…but he would not go down easy. Then a movement at his side…not what he expected. It was Lorth’al’Krann, his dark elf sword trainer. A slave, he had been forced by the masters to perform training for the candidates.
“You have shown that you have intelligence as well as potential”. “My life is without worth, so I freely exchange it for yours”. The drow then loosened his bonds and helped him to his feet. “Here take this potion, it will help heal your wounds. “This one will conceal you from your pursuers eyes for a brief period of time”. “You must take the third door on the left down this corridor, and follow it to the surface”. “You will meet resistance before the invisibility wears off, so here”. “Honor these weapons”. “They deserve to be wielded by someone with honor”.
I ran off to a new life. And life found me hear. With allies I trusted, and a commander who made wise, if harsh decisions. Usually.

Vali is a tall Vamaran, tall even for a human, who normally look down on Vamaran. His six foot height, sleek and muscular physique mark him as being in his prime. His fur is a ruddy gold; burning bronze under firelight but a true gold in the bright daylight. He wears his hair in a short clipped ponytail tied off white string. Long sideburns down the side of his face make him look rather like a golden tamarin. The fur down his back is unusual. It forms a long, thin black line that traces its way from the center of his forehead down his spine to the tip of his tail. Such markings are unusual amongst Vamaran, most have hair of a single color.
His skin, where it shows on his face, hands and feet, is deeply tanned, brown bordering on black. His eyes are intense, a bright emerald green flecked with stormy blue-grey. As with mot Vamaran, his face is very human-like, but it lacks the constant expressiveness of his kin. Vali has, from his experiences with cutthroats and criminals the world over, learned to avoid expressing his emotion as best he can. It's a skill that he's still working to master.

Vali Ramayana was born into a small tribe living in the jungles of the Kava Lands. Not normally settled by the Vanara, the Kava Lands are savage territory, home to cutthroat treasure hunters, bestial pygmies and cunning predators. Vali's father was a hunter, renowned for fierce protectiveness. His mother was a tender and caring Vanara, piously devoted to the worship of natural spirits. Of this, Vali remembers nothing.

As a young child, young Vali was kidnapped by poachers in the depths of the Mwangi Expanse. If it was because of mistaken identity (Vali didn't yet speak Taland) or a band of hunters dabbling in slavery, the result was the same. He had wandered away from his tribe's treetop village, a thirst for adventure and exploration already manifesting. The thugs had set a snare and it caught him less then mile from his home. With his young voice, no one heard him before the poachers reclaimed their 'prize.' His captors took him to Bloodcove, hoping to sell him to a menagerie or perhaps the Hurricane King himself. Luckily for Vali, a missionary cleric of Desna saved him from a life as a slave or animal.

With Vali too young to find his way back to his family, the young priest, Andrezi the Pligrim, took young Vali with him as he continued his travels. Finding few converts in Bloodcove, Andrezi led the pair away from the Mwangi expanse. As the coastline vanished into the horize, it would be the last that Vali would see of his home. Vali quickly picked up Taldan and, as the pair made their way around the Eye of Abendago, other languages that the sailors spoke. Andrezi and Vali, now growing fond of each other, traveled past the strictly secular Rahadoum and disembarked in Thuvia.

It was here that Andrezi found a more fertile ground for the scriptures of Desna. His charisma and honest faith won over many otherwise suspicious Thuvians. As the unlikely pair continued their travels into Osirion, young Vali came to appreciate and eventually fervently believe in Desna's power and tenets. Andrezi, seeing his growing faith, offered to train him as a cleric. Vali rapidly accepted and soon proved to be a brilliant study. Andrezi's easy willingness to teach, and Vali's thirst for knowledge and new experiences melded into a generally peaceful existence. Vali began to see Andrezi less as a kind stranger and more as a relative or even foster father.

In addition to his knowledge and abilities as a cleric of Desna, Andrezi taught young Vali in the use of his deity's favored weapon. With Andrezi's wide travels on his own in pursuit of Desna's ends, he'd become exceedingly skillful in the use of the starknife. Vali took to the use of the starknife with trepidation, but quickly proved masterful in its usage. Vali would say that he can feel the will of his goddess guiding his hands. Whatever the source, Vali quickly surpassed his mentor in skill.

The duos travels continued, taking them through Sothis with it's dominating skyline to Taldora's port of Oppara. There they restarted their overland trek, making their way through the countryside of Taldora, Andolan and finally Druma. All the while, Vali grew in his faith and his power, learning much of the world from his travel's with Andrezi. A brief sailing trip across the great Lake Encarthan put the pair tantalizingly close to Virisian, Andrezi's homeland. Sadly for the pair, they would make it to Virisian and Varnosa in particular.

Shortly after Vali came of age, he and Andrezi made it to Varnosa at long last. The city made Vali uneasy with its size and traditions. For Andrezi, it was the first time home in many years. Tragically, Andrezi was killed while defending a pair of orphans from a cruel taskmaster in the slums of Varnosa. Vali, overcome with grief by the death of his foster father, stayed in Varnosa for months as he mourned. On a cold and overcast day, a beam of light broke through the clouds and shone on the vanara as he prayed over Andrezi's grave. He heard, in a whispered voice, "Mourn for me no longer, go forth and do Desna's work."

Shaken by the revelation, Vali's faith was reaffirmed and he resumed his travels. With little more then his traveling equipment and the holy symbol that was once his mentor's, Vali came to Absalom, seeking to start his travels anew. For where else but the City at the Center of the World would you go to start anew?

Vali awoke in darkness. A hush of anticipation and a gentler rocking of the ship heralded his arrival in the great city of Absalom. "Here, if anywhere, I can find my purpose," he thought, his tail twitching in nervous anticipation as it always did. At least, as it did before the dawn of a new day in a new city.

What will this day bring? How will I know where I am to go? Mused the tall lithe Vanaran. His fur reflected bright sunlight streaming through the wooden planks above, shining a brilliant gold. Vali pulled on his vestments of Dresna, savoring the softness and familiarity of the clothing.

"Today of all days, I should look my part, I think eh?" He murmured to himself as he gather the rest of his gear and made his way to the main deck. Emerging into blindingly bright sunlight, he had to cover his eyes and suppress a sharp inhalation at what little he could see.

"Magnificent isn't it? This is your first time here, Master Ramayana, is it not?" Asked Sumna, the portly ship's captain and a Vudrani who sailed all over the Inner Sea but hailed originally from Osirian. Having spent some of his best years in the harsh land, Vali had found it easy to befriend the man, short acquaintance or not.

"How many times, Captain, must I ask you to call me Vali? I am no master, simply a humble servant of Desna,[\b]" Vali grins wickedly, "And are you trying to blind on everyone on deck with your beard? The glare off its paint nearly blinded me. I worried for a moment my poor friend Sumna might have been turned into a golden statue."

Sumna roars with laughter, hands on his belly as his whole body shakes, "You know, I'm still surprised you're a priest. There are not so many funny ones I think, eh?"

The banter continues a while, with Vali's quiet humor and Sumna's uproarious antics drawing exasperated glances from the other passengers. All the while, Vali is studying the city, memorizing the views and already beginning to gain his bearings against the maps he had seen and the stories he'd heard.

Slowly, Sumna's trading cog, The Gilded Gull pulls into one of the quays, men shouting back and forth, the decks heaving with chaos. Sumna is distracted momentarily, shouting at his first mate in staccato Osirian. Vali uses the moment to study the city more closely, it was truly a wonder- "Ah and soon you will be leaving me? What am I going to do the next time that idiot Sefu falls fixing the topgallant?... Sumna trails off, muttering and gesturing rapidly in a less then complementary way. For Vali, his tirade fades into the background as he stands transfixed by the size and majesty of the City at the Center of the World.

"Hello in there? Did you see a merchant hawking bananas or something?" quips Sumna. His grin shows several golden teeth. "No you are just bedazzled by this beautiful city! And who could blame you? It is the greatest city in the world! Sothis excepted of course..."

Vali barks a laugh as the crew finishes tying off the boat, "Strangely I think I might miss you, you irascible pirate!"

Sumna, his elaborately twisted gold and silver beard giving him a momentarily sinister look, "Nonsense! I steal from the weak while they are alive! I'm an honest merchant, not a dirty pirate..."

The pair share their private joke, an odd pairing, much like Andrezi and Vali once were. The rotund, glimmering merchant and the tall, powerfully built Vanaran share a look and embrace briefly.

"Talk care of yourself, Vali Ramayana." whispers Samna, the noise almost getting lost amidst the chaos of ship and dock.

"And you, Samna Ju'uThuhn... may the stars always guide your travels." answers Vali, invoking a spoken blessing on his friend.

With that, Vali descends the gangplank, all his earthly possessions in tow. His tail begins to twitch and his face becomes unreadable. This would be his first time exploring a new city without Andrezi.

Shaking of the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm him, Vali stepped into the hustling crowds. Watching, looking for his purpose here. Here, where his mentor, friend and father had sent him.