 About Dmitri ValkovStatistics
N Medium Humanoid (Human)
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Feats: Fast Learner (gain +1 hit point and +1 skill point when taking a level in a favored class) Traits: Suspicious (+1 to Sense Motive tests, Sense Motive is a class skill) Skills: Handle Animal (1) +6, Profession (farmer) (1) +4, Sense Motive (1) +5 Languages: Common, Hallit, Skald
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Ammunition: None at present Carrying Capacity Light: Medium: Heavy: Currency: 0 gp Total Weight: Profile:
That's what Dmitri learned growing up in Razmiran. His family was like any other in the land, simple god-fearing folk trying to make a living under the yoke of servitude to their tyrannical ruler. However, a god-fearing peasant in Razmiran differs than any other in the River Kingdoms, simply because the god they fear is also their king, the living god Razmir. His first words might have been "Mama" and "Papa," but "Praise Razmir" was not far behind them. He loved his family - his mother and father, Isme and Yuri, as well as his five brothers and sisters, Alexei, Matvey, Lilia, Oleg and Katya. Life wasn't easy, but what they lacked in coin they made for with love. Like all of Razmir, he was indoctrinated into the faith of the Living God at birth, and taught from an early age to obey the orders of the priests without question. As he grew, he displayed a curiosity for the world at large. When he was four summers old, he was helping his father scatter seeds in the field, when he noticed that a third of the field was lying fallow. He asked why, and his father responded, "That was how my father taught me to farm, Dmitri." That didn't satisfy the boy's inquisitive mind, and he continued asking until his father told him that leaving that part of the field fallow would keep the soil vibrant for next season's plantings. As he grew, the questions never ceased. "Why is the sky blue?" "Why does our dog have spots but the old matron Patushkin's has a solid coat?" "Why does the sun make things hot?" These were just a few examples of the questions he would ask his parents, and it was a rare day that they could answer them all to his satisfaction. When he was ten, he saw a procession of the priests of Razmir moving through his sleepy village. The young boy was initially awestruck when he saw the priests slowly gliding through the village's streets in their fine silk robes and brilliant ivory masks. He heard them chanting the name of Razmir, and the peasants all knelt in deference to their God King. Their leader waved a censer as they walked, and burning sandalwood incense perfumed the air. As the Razmiran priests chanted, a few acolytes in less ostentatious garb moved to the adults in the crowd, and collected money from them. Dmitri noticed this, and his brow furrowed as a question formed in his mind. "Papa?", he asked quietly. "Silence!", his father hissed, but Dmitri ignored him. "Papa, why are those men taking our money?" His father sighed into the dirt, and whispered back. "I will explain when we return home. Please, Dmitri, wait until then!" Unfortunately, by then, one of the acolytes heard Dmitri and Yuri whispering, and dragged the farmer to his feet. "Such insolence, peasant! Speaking while we deliver the Word of Razmir! You will be punished for your unquiet tongue!" He grabbed Yuri's coin purse, and shoved a knee into Dmitri's father's stomach. Yuri howled, and collapsed to the ground. "Papa!", Dmitri cried out, confusion and horror playing across his young face. He rushed forwards, but his older brothers grabbed him before he could do anything more to cause the family trouble. The acolyte punched and kicked his father a few more times, then looked at Dmitri, leveling an accusatory finger to the boy. "Remember this, whelp. Razmir loves His people, so long as his people love Him." That night, perhaps unsurprisingly, Dmitri had questions. "Papa, why did that man beat you?" Yuri winced again. "He beat me because he perceived us to be questioning Razmir's rule." "Why did he take our money?" "Because the Living God needs our tithe for His continued protection." "Why does He need money? If He's a god, then why does He need money to -" "Enough!", Yuri yelled, shocking Dmitri into silence. "It is always 'why this,' and 'why that' with you! This is the way that things are! This is the way they will always be! Stop asking 'why,' or the Living God will...." Yuri stopped midsentence. He looked to Isme, and noticed her silently sobbing. He got up from the table, and walked out into the night. Dmitri moved to chase after him, but Alexei stood and blocked the way out. "I think you've done enough tonight, little brother. Sit down, finish your meal, say your prayers to Razmir and go to bed." Dmitri slowly returned to his seat and sat back down. He chewed at the beet greens, pushing them around his plate. He knelt at his bed and bowed his head, silently moving his lips. He knew the prayers to Razmir, but for once, he could not bring the words to his lips. He crawled into bed, and laid there awake, thinking about the Living God, and why he would need all the things that a man would need. He waited in the dark until he heard everyone fall asleep, and then crept out of the house. His father had never returned, and he wanted to find him and apologize. He crept through the streets in his nightclothes, and saw his father in the inn sitting alone, nursing a mug of ale. He was about to run to the man when a slender arm snaked out and grabbed him, holding him tight and clapping a hand over his mouth. "Do not scream," came a woman's voice. There was an unusual lilt to her voice that he couldn't place, but he knew instantly that she was an outsider. "I am here to help you, Dmitri, but if you scream, I cannot save you. I promise you, no harm is going to come to you." The woman removed her hand from his mouth, and Dmitri spun to take a look at her. She was human, and she wore dark clothing to hide her in the night, but her skin was the color of fresh cream, her hair straight and black, and her eyes slightly slanted. She had an exotic beauty about her, and Dmitri relaxed a moment. "Who are you? And why are you keeping me from Papa?" The woman smiled down at the boy. "Always the questions from the Inquisitor," she said cryptically. "My name is Hokuto, and right now, I am keeping you safe. Look to the table, Dmitri, and tell me what you see." Dmitri scowled at the woman, but did what she asked. "I see my Papa." "Of course you do," she said patiently, much as his mother would when explaining a new concept to him. "But what else?" "He is alone. He is drinking." "Is he? He must be very thirsty, then." A puzzled look came across his face as he pondered Hokuto's statement, and then his eyebrows raised. "There is another mug across from him!" He looked back up at the outsider. "Who is my father meeting with?" "Let us wait and find out together." The remained watching Yuri nurse the dark beer for several long minutes, until a man in the silk robes of the Razmiran priests rejoined him. "An odd place to meet for a confessional, wouldn't you say, Dmitri?" "What are they saying?", he asked in his usual curious tone. He could see his father's face filled with grief, and the priest's eyes narrowed as he listened to every word. "He is explaining how he has tried to teach you the ways of life here in Razmir," she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "He says that he loves you, but he has been unable to still your mind and tongue. He says he knows that Razmir demands total obedience in mind, body and soul, and though he has tried to teach you this, you keep asking questions that he cannot answer. He asks the priest if he will help stop these questions. The priest says -" The woman stopped speaking, and inhaled sharply. Dmitri spun around to look at her, fear in his eyes. "What?", he asked, his young voice frantic with terror. "What is it he said? Tell me!" The woman spoke again. "The priest says that a trip to the Exalted Woods will still the blasphemous questions on your tongue, and turn them into prayers for the Living God." Dmitri shivered, and tears welled up in his eyes. He had heard of the Exalted Woods, as a admonishment for naughty children that didn't finish their meals or tried to shirk their chores. "No...", he implored, suddenly more afraid now than he had ever been in his short life. "Not the Woods. He couldn't do that! My Papa wouldn't allow it!" Hokuto winced, and looked down at Dmitri. "He would, little one. And did. I am sorry." "You're lying!", he said, balling up his fists in his grief. "Why should I believe you? You're an outsider! You don't know what it's like here!" "You're right," she said, smiling softly. "I am an outsider. But I know more about this place than you would think. I know that you and your family suffer under the yoke of the Living God. I know that you wonder why things are they way that they are, and wonder if things could change. Most importantly, I know that you stand at a crossroads, and must make a choice this evening. But why should you believe me? I will ask you a question, my little freethinker." She knelt down next to the boy and laid a slender hand upon his shoulder. "What would you do if you could do whatever you wished, rather than what everyone told you to do?" He grew quiet, and thought. Eventually, he met her warm gaze, and responded. "I don't know." She smiled broadly, and nodded. "Well, my Inquisitor, that gives you two options. You can stay here, be taken this night by the priests into the Exalted Woods, and return with your tongue stilled and mind calmed." She stood, still looking down at Dmitri. "Or, you can come with me, and find out the answers to your questions as you find out the answer to mine. The choice is yours." He looked back up to Hokuto, then grew quiet for a time. He looked to his father, still inside with the Razmiran priest. He closed his eyes, and silent tears fell from his eyes. "Goodbye, Papa," he said, and took Hokuto's hand. They disappeared that night. Appearance
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