Moon Pendant

Kali Nassim: Memories's page

10 posts. Alias of John Mechalas.


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The next journal entry is coming, but I wanted to digress with this story about Kali and Qatana because it has become very relevant to their current situation. I wrote this together with Qatana's player, and the idea for it came when we learned that our characters' backgrounds could place them both in Korvosa at the same time, shortly after Qatana's rescue (her campaign trait, with Shalelu as the NPC choice, for those who are familiar with the AP). Kali is ten years old here, and Qatana is nine.

Qatana's player also produced a short story of their own that took place a couple of days before this one.

Mid-Gozran, 4700 (Korvosa)

Kali had been tossing and turning under the covers for over an hour because sleep just would not come. Every time she felt herself slipping under, her mind would start racing and she'd be awake and staring at the walls. Again.

It didn't help that the Flood Moon was shining through the window directly onto her bed. Her room at her grandparents' house was on the second floor and faced southeast, providing a grand view of Midland, the Jeggare River, and East Shore beyond. Normally, that was a breathtaking sight, but right now she just wanted the light out of her eyes. So she got out of bed, walked over to the window and pulled the curtains shut. As the room darkened she became aware of voices coming from downstairs.

I will never get to sleep, she thought.

The voices grew louder, briefly, and then quieted down quickly. Another argument?

She opened the door slowly and checked the hallway: it was empty. Down below, the voices grew louder and then cut off abruptly for a second time.

Kali quietly and cautiously crept down the stairs.

"---barely 10 years old. She's still a child, for gods' sake!"

"It's still Midland, mom, not The Shingles."

Kali sighed to herself. Mom and grandma, at it again.

Her grandmother snorted, loudly and derisively. "West Dock. Close enough! A bunch of thieves and laborers. And you want to take her there."

Their voices quieted again and Kali couldn't make out what was said after that. She risked tiptoeing down the last few steps to the main floor. She could hear her grandfather's words now.

"—about Kali's safety? She can't protect herself."

His words stung. Kali had a large scab on her forehead, still, from the previous week. Marlena and Ianca had cornered her, and when Kali finally got away she ran half-panicked and tripped. It was just a scrape, but it was large, and it was taking too long to heal, and of course her grandparents had fretted over it. They, too, thought she was fragile and she resented it.

"They're friends, dad. They have been for years. That hasn't changed."

Her grandmother spoke again.

"And what about what she'll say? You shouldn't expose your daughter—my granddaughter—to that."

"Not expose her to what, mom? The world?"

Another long silence. Uncomfortably long.

Her father's voice broke it. "She will find out soon enough. They are to return to Sandpoint in the coming weeks. But right now, Qatana is here, and she wishes to—"

And that's as far as Akmal got because at the sound of Qatana's name, Kali burst into the sitting room.

"What do you mean, 'Qatana is here'?"

______________________

Kali opened the door and stepped in.

Her parents had prepared her. She knew the whole story of what had happened to the Marchands, where Qatana had been for the past several months, and what she had endured. They did not elaborate on the details, but they didn't need to. Kali understood enough. She knew what Kaer Maga was.

Her father said to her, solemnly, "She has changed since you last saw her. And I mean more than just her age and her appearance. She is not the same girl you knew. But it is important to remember that it is still her."

Her mom added, "And that she needs her friend, not an inquisitor. Just talk to her. Tell her how you feel about her."

Kali nodded.

And she thought she was prepared, but when she stepped inside and actually saw Qatana, she froze and drew in a sharp breath.

Qatana was sitting on the bed. The first thing Kali noticed were her eyes, which seemed huge and wild as they stared into hers. The second thing was her hair, which was not just short but shockingly short. She could pass as a boy in the right clothes.

The room was small and sparsely furnished: a worn but comfortable-looking bed, a small table that doubled as a nightstand, and a wooden stool for sitting. Heavy curtains could be drawn to block the window which overlooked the street below. It was small, but not cramped.

Kali took this all in, recovering quickly from the shock, and bounded across the room, tears welling up as she embraced Qatana in an awkward, tight hug.

"You're alive! Gods, you're alive!"

She sobbed into Qatana's shoulder for what felt like several minutes. Inside her arms, she could feel another change: strong, firm muscles. Like Anavaru, she thought, as she pulled away, drying her eyes by wiping the tears away with her hands.

"It's really you," she said. Then, her voice breaking slightly, "I...I thought I'd never see you again."

Qatana appeared to be startled, and Kali just now realized how tense Qatana had felt in her embrace. Maybe I shouldn't have done that, she thought.

She stepped back to give Qatana space, and herself some time to gather her composure. She fumbled with the stool, clumsily pulling it out so that she could sit at what she thought was the right distance.

"Kali," Qatana said, barely above a whisper. "They said you were here, but I was afraid to believe them."

She looked at Kali, actually looked directly at her, with watering eyes. She shook her head, turned away briefly, and when she returned her gaze to Kali her eyes were dry.

"Your parents came by earlier and were so nice, and when they asked if you could come visit it took me a while to realize what they were asking, or even why they were asking it."

Qatana flashed a fleeting half-smile.

"I've never been to Korvosa before, but I've not seen much of it yet. Mostly just this room and the Gray District."

The Gray District?

"I lit a pair of candles for my parents." She became quiet again, fidgeting with a loose tie on her jacket.

Kali shifted uncomfortably in her stool. What am I supposed to say?

And then Qatana continued again, so softly that Kali had to lean forward to hear her.

"One of the clerics told me that our loved ones can speak to us from beyond death, but after all that has happened, I don't think I want to know what my parents would have to say to me."

"I...I don't think I would eit---"

"So when are you going to show me the town?"

Kali sat back quickly, startled by Qatana's abrupt change in tone. This was not going anything like she expected it to. The question was surprising, to say the least, and it just didn't seem to fit. It would be fun, but was it the right thing to do now? She didn't know.

Maybe she just needs something that's normal. Maybe doing that would help?

"Um...Well...I'd have to ask permission, but...I...We could go...tomorrow?" Mom and dad would let me...wouldn't they?

She continued, hesitantly at first, then more excitedly as she went on. "We're...just below The Heights. We could...walk up there. On the way, there's this huge bookstore, the biggest one I've ever seen in Varisia. And...at the top is the museum, and the big temples, and the amphitheater. There's also the tower; the Sable Company—they're the military here—keeps hippogriffs up there, and you can see them flying in and out! And on the other side are the Merciless Cliffs above the bay. On clear days, you can see all the way to Veldraine.

"Do you...Would that be OK?"

"Sure!"

Qatana actually looked excited at this idea, and for a moment, it was just the two of them ready to explore the city together like Qatana had never been gone. Like the past few months had not happened. But, that's not how it is at all, is it? There was something very wrong about Qatana's reaction, but she didn't understand what. She replayed the conversation in her head, trying to figure it out.

"So, tomorrow, then."

Qatana's voice snapped Kali back to the present. She was smiling.

Is that it? Are...are we done?

"Yes! Tomorrow. I'll come by...assuming my parents are OK with it....I'll come by...around 11 o'clock."

Kali stood up. She thought about giving Qatana a parting hug, but she had stayed seated on the bed. So instead, Kali walked over to the door and opened it. She looked back at Qatana one last time—she was still smiling at Kali, so Kali smiled back—exchanged an awkward good-bye, and left.

In the common room on the main floor, she found her parents were seated at a table with Shalelu. Kali hesitated at first—she was not very comfortable around the elven woman (though she did not know why)—but overcame her anxiety and walked over to where they were sitting. Their conversation came to a halt when they saw her, and all three of them turned their heads to watch as she crossed the room and sat down next to her father.

Akmal glanced up at Denea briefly and they had a silent exchange before he turned his attention back to his daughter.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. She..."

Kali hesitated.

"What is it?"

"She...she wants me to show her the city. I...I said I'd do it. Tomorrow. If you and mom said it was OK. That I'd take her to The Heights."

Akmal looked up at Denea, who had been watching Kali intently. She met his gaze and then nodded once. He turned to Shalelu next, and they had a short conversation in Elvish. It ended with her nodding, too. Finally, he turned back to Kali and spoke in an even, serious tone.

"And do you want to do this?"

"She asked to go. I think she really does want to see the city. And, I think she needs it. That it will help."

"Kali. Do you want to do this?"

"Yes. I do. And, I want to help."

He nodded and Kali relaxed, realizing for the first time how tense she had been.

"Very well," he said. "We will make arrangements for—"

"Where is the Gray District?"

All eyes were on Kali again, and it was so long before someone spoke that she was afraid she had said something wrong. Denea and Akmal both looked up at Shalelu, and they had another exchange in Elvish.

When it ended, Denea stood up, gently took Kali's hand and said, "Come with me, and I'll tell you about it."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No, Kali. You're not in trouble."

______________________

After Kali and Denea had gone, Akmal and Shalelu sat facing one another.

"You are sure you are OK with this?"

"Yes. She needs a friend. Someone her age that she can trust. And they'll be safe in The Heights. Especially with me keeping an eye on them." She paused before adding, "Discreetly, of course."

Akmal smiled at this.

"Of course. If you need anything more, do not hesitate to ask. We will be here for another week at least. You know where to find us."

 

§


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Summer, 4702

"Gods, Kali! What happened?"

Kali shook her head but said nothing. Ameiko could see she had been crying: her eyes were puffy and red, and there were smears of dirt on her face where she had been wiping away tears.

"You're bleeding."

Kali nodded her head twice, but still stared silently at the ground, not looking at anything at all. Ameiko, concerned, sat down beside her to get a closer look at the cut on her left cheek. It was still weeping but for the most part, it looked like it had clotted.

In a whisper, so soft Ameiko almost couldn't hear it, Kali said to her, "I can't go home like this."

"I'll walk with you to the cathedral. What's left---"

"NO!" she yelled out suddenly, startling Ameiko. "I am not going there again."

Ameiko thought about this for a moment, remembering how that had gone the last time, then said, "Yeah, OK. Niska then. Or Koya."

Kali was silent for a while but eventually nodded her head and stood up. They would ask questions, too, but they wouldn't try to get involved.

Ameiko got up with her and they walked slowly into town.

"Kali?" she asked tentatively after they had been walking for a couple of minutes.

"What?"

"Tell me."

____________________

    They were laying in wait for her as she rounded the corner of the tannery on her way to the bridge. Marlena and Ianca stepped out from behind the building and blocked her path.

    "Where are you going, Kaaalllli?" Marlena drew her name out in a patronizing tone.

    Kali turned to run, but found Dimir was just a few paces behind her. She hadn't even known he was back there. She spun back around looking for another way to get out of this: the tannery was to her right, the ridge to the boneyard at her left...and then she realized there were more than three of them.

    "Hey! I asked you where you were going!" Marlena said sharply, shoving Kali's shoulders. She stumbled back a couple of steps, and someone—she assumed Dimir—shoved her forward again. She saw one of the Theern twins on her left now, and two more girls out of the corner of her eye on her right. They had her trapped in a circle.

    "I said, 'Where. Are. You. Going?'" Marlena shoved her a second time, only much harder, and Kali staggered backwards. Then she was roughly shoved again, sending her across to someone else, and then again and again until she lost count, followed shortly by her balance. She remembered falling down, and the impact of something hard to her cheek.

    Kali looked up to see Marlena looming over her. She was saying something, but Kali wasn't listening: the space that Marlena left in the circle had Kali's complete attention. Marlena pivoted around to address her chorus; Kali's fingers closed around sand and gravel. When Marlena turned back, the handful of shot was already on it's way to her face.

    Before Marlena's shock could turn to rage, Kali leapt to her feet and bolted through the gap. No one even tried to stop her. They just stood there, dumbfounded.

____________________

It took less than half an hour. Koya's spells not only healed Kali's cut and scrapes, but also mended the tears in her clothes. When Koya was done, and Kali had cleaned up, there was not even a hint as to what had happened.

"You should tell your parents, child. I know you won't, but you should."

"I can't," Kali said quietly.

"It will just make it worse," Ameiko added.

"They need to know. And you should trust them," came Koya's reply, but she didn't press it further.

____________________

Ameiko walked Kali home. They made the journey in silence and it wasn't until her house was in sight that Kali finally spoke.

"Thank you."

Ameiko stopped them both and gave Kali a hug. "You're welcome," she replied. As they pulled apart, Ameiko looked at Kali, her expression very serious. "What you did...Marlena...she's going to make you pay for that. You know that, right?"

Kali nodded solemnly.

"I can help."

 

§


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I wrote this together with Qatana's player.

Magnimar, Early Spring, 4710

Kali considered the oil paintings. In all, there were seven songbirds, the holy symbol of Shelyn, of different varieties all done in a mixture of styles and settings. The little artists’ shop was small but more cozy than cramped, and behind her Qatana was casually browsing through a series of more traditional paintings, almost absentmindedly. She had picked up a landscape depicting the Lost Coast Road and the sea beyond but gave it little scrutiny before hanging it back in its place.

“I didn’t know you were a follower of Shelyn. I never even thought of you as being religious.”

Kali was still deciding between two of the paintings that she liked the best; she didn’t respond immediately so Qatana continued.

“Shelyn is a strange choice for a Vudrani.”

Said the way one might remark upon the weather: “It’s hot in the sun” or “The wind is picking up”.

Qatana was like that. Kali found it oddly comforting. Yes, she could be blunt and occasionally rude, but she was honest and said what was on her mind, and she never did so with malicious intent. You always knew where you stood with Qatana. For years, she, Ana and Ameiko had been the only friends that Kali confided in.

“I’m only half Vudrani.”

“Still.”

Qatana knew how Kali viewed herself, and was not going to let her avoid the subject like this.

“The texts of Irori are as much an elaborate series of fitness manuals as they are spiritual guides. I tried when I was young. I really did. I even read Unbinding the Fetters when I was thirteen and attempted to follow everything in it: the diet, the meditations, the exercises…all of it. I couldn’t do it.”

She followed it strictly for many years—she still did, more or less, save for the exercise—and it had had a profound effect on her health and her mental discipline, but almost none at all on her physical strength.

In the Church of Irori, it was not enough to try. You had to progress.

“Self-perfection of both mind and body,” Qatana remarked, quoting its best-known tenet. She was idly inspecting another painting that she had no interest in.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t the strength.”

“No.”

Qatana had picked up a pendant from a small display rack, the first item to genuinely intrigue her. The pewter disc was strung onto a simple leather necklace, and carved into it was a scene of a leafless tree in front of a barren landscape. It reminded Kali of the dead of winter.

“Why Shelyn?”

“Why Pharasma?”

Qatana gave her a blank stare.

She is not going to let this drop.

The truth is, Shelyn appealed to her. A lot. The goddess of art, beauty, love and music embodied almost everything Kali cherished about her Vudrani heritage. Music and art were integral parts of the culture. The ornate architecture and ever-present music in Jalmeray, the aureate textiles and fabrics, the fine and intricate details in carvings, paintings and sculptures. Even her clothing was a celebration of art: sarees in rich reds and golds edged with sophisticated patterns in contrasting tones. Kali had gone so far as to line them with pockets, and she wore her sarees in place of the more traditional wizard robes favored by others (the morning after altering her first, she awoke to a brilliant Scarlet Tanager singing at her windowsill).

Followers of Shelyn were even encouraged to produce artwork and music of their own, to the best of their ability. The emphasis was on self-expression, not on a constant need to improve. This, too, resonated with her deeply.

“The art. The music. And, unlike Irori, with Shelyn it’s the journey that matters.”

Qatana considered this for a moment and then nodded, apparently satisfied.

“Why Pharasma?”

Qatana was silent for some time, fingering the pendant, turning it over and over in her hands.

“She brings us into the world and then sees us out. She does so dispassionately and with little thought or concern for what happens to us between. There is no pretense, no good or bad, and no judgment. It is a brutal and ugly existence, and I found her disinterest appealing.”

She stopped, and Kali thought she had finished and was about to comment when Qatana continued.

“It is sometimes hard to find meaning in such world, and yet here we are. I thought that a life in service to Pharasma would lend meaning and purpose, but as much as I respect her, she leaves little room for hope.”

Her words sank in.

“You’re considering leaving her Church.”

“I am.”

This was significant. It was almost expected for someone like Kali, still young and merely a follower, to have some uncertainty in their life before settling on a deity, but Qatana was pursuing the clergy. It was not unheard of, but it was rare and it would have consequences.

Kali was holding a painting of a stylized Cardinal with a flourishing tail, perched on a stone wall covered in ivy. She recalled that Tanager in her window and the choice seemed obvious now. This was the one.

“Pharasma leaves little room for hope. Irori leaves little for contentment. We have something in common."

“So it would seem,” Qatana said.

“I hope you find what you are looking for.”

____________________________________

We rolled for stats in this campaign. One of my early challenges was making sense of a wizard with a high Con and a Str of 7.


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Quick correction: That should say Magical Knack in my commentary up there.


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One of the advantages of creating and exploring a character's background is that you gain a strong sense of who they are. The big disadvantage, though, is that it lacks flexibility: you can get locked into character decisions early on that limit your options later in the campaign. Unless you are following a programmed build, you don't have visibility that's ten levels out.

In Kali's case, the decision to multiclass into a PrC class without full casting was both a deliberate dialing back of her power, and a flavor decision in response to campaign events (the destruction of the Shrine to Shelyn in Kalsgard). With Dasi joining the party, however, some of her play options that came from the Evangelist were losing relevancy, and that required refocusing on her spell casting. A quick fix was to just boost her CL, and the best option was to pull in Magical Lineage via the Additional Traits feat. The problem, though, was that her background didn't fit the description.

So I improvised. This was an early story written for Kali, and with some small wording changes at the end, it felt like it fit the flavor of the trait even if it didn't meet the exact language. I submitted it to my GM for approval, and he agreed.

Pharast 9, 4710 (Magnimar)

“Do you even know how to use that thing?”

Kali turned her head at the sound of Lucian’s voice. She looked up from where she was sitting to see him standing just behind her, and smiled when their eyes met. No, I don’t, she thought before saying, “I grew up with them. My dad taught me when I was ten.” Which is technically true. She had gotten so used to having the khopesh strapped at her back that she quickly forgot it was there, but the mention of it made her aware of it again. It was long and heavy and awkward. It was also there purely for show.

“Are you going to tell me why you asked to meet me out here, or are you going to keep me in suspense all night?” she asked.

Lucian showed her his best, wry smile and tilted his head to the left as he shifted his weight to that leg. If he had a signature look, this “Varisian scamp” mien would be it. He said, “I’m going with option B,” then winked at her and sat down by her side at the edge of the Seacleft.

“Fine. Be that way,” she replied, in a mock-offended tone which she quickly regretted. She was worried he would take it the wrong way, but he snickered in response and her concern evaporated.

Lucian was a couple of years younger than Kali but he had started at the academy in her class. They didn’t normally accept students under 18 but for him they made an exception: he was smart—brilliant, really—and magic came so easily to him that instruction and study seemed almost a formality. When you’re that gifted the academy bends the rules.

He was handsome, too, in the classically Varisian way. Lucian’s short, dark hair was nearly black, and though it always seemed to be unkempt on him it looked rugged, not slovenly. Sly, brown eyes gleamed with intelligence and a hint of mischief. His skin was just a shade darker than normal, and he had a nicely toned, though not quite muscular, frame.

Kali had gone back and forth between liking him and liking him, but she eventually gave up on the fantasy of a relationship and settled on just being friends. Lucian was blessed with looks, a little charm, and a keen intellect, but he could be completely oblivious when it came to other people. Oblivious to the point of slighting and offending them. She figured that road would just lead to disappointment and frustration, which were two things she did not need back in her life.

“It probably won’t be dark enough for another hour or so. Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked casually.

Kali glanced over to the east where the Rebirth Moon would soon be rising. According to the astronomical tables there would be a total lunar eclipse later tonight, a so-called blood moon, and that eclipse was why Lucian had chosen this evening. He wanted to show her something. “Not the eclipse,” he’d said—which is just as well, as she’d seen plenty of those—but something else. Something in the city, and the best chance for seeing whatever it was would be tonight. But there were no guarantees; he had stressed that.

All the vague talk was starting to irritate her, but she was also curious. So she agreed. “Yeah, OK. But if you’re going to make me wait in the dark, figuratively and literally, then I get to pick the food. And you’re buying.”

“It’s a deal,” he replied.

“Follow me, then. I’m in the mood for this place in Dockway, near the Bazaar.” Kali stood up, waited for Lucian to do the same, and then headed for the road that led down the Seacleft. He quickly joined her at her right side, falling into step.

“Why do you like Dockway so much?”

This was one of those “aloof around others” moments. At least some of the reasons should have been obvious, but Lucian didn’t notice “obvious” things about other people sometimes. Often. A lot.

“Well, my parents’ business is down there, for one. They supply several of the merchants in the Bazaar. And I like the Bazaar, itself. All those cultures mixed together like that, including my own? And the food is pretty good, too.” She liked Ordellia even more, but it was farther away. It was even further if you wanted to get there and back in one piece at night; the most direct route wasn’t the safest one.

“But mostly?” she said, continuing on. “I like to watch the ships in the harbor, putting in to port and back out to sea. We traveled a lot when I was younger. Most of those trips were overseas.”

“My family traveled a lot, too, though exclusively by land of course. Except for the occasional river barge or ferry.”

Varisians as a whole had more than their share of wanderlust. Contrary to the stereotype, they weren’t all itinerants that endlessly crossed the countryside. Most settled in close-knit communities and satisfied their need to roam by exploring close to home (“always wondering what’s over the next hill”, someone had said to her once), but some did travel a great deal. If they were wealthy enough they did it because they could. If they were poor enough they did it because they had no other options.

Lucian’s family fell into the first category.

“Do you miss it?” she asked him.

“What? The travel? Yeah. Yeah, I do.” There was more than a hint of longing in his voice.

“Me, too,” she said with much of the same tone.

“So, naturally, we’ll be indoors and glued to books for the next two years.”

Kali didn’t say anything. They both knew that they were playing the long game, but it was frustrating to feel even more cooped up; for things to get worse before they got better.

They walked in that awkward silence for a while, working their way through the crowded plaza at the base of the hill and then south, skirting the Sczarni encampment known locally as Carent’s Camp. As the Bazaar of Sails came into view, Kali finally spoke.

“Why are we out here tonight, Lucian?”

“It’s better if you see. I promise.”

She led him to Mother Sarraf’s, a small Keleshite kitchen just across from the Bazaar. It was crowded tonight, as usual, but that only mattered if you wanted to dine at one of the small handful of tables. She told Lucian, “Don’t worry: we’ll picnic. We won’t have to wait long.”

“Thank the gods. For a minute there, I thought you had deliberately sabotaged our evening.”

“It’d be worth it. The food is that good. But, no, I want to see this mystery that you won’t tell me about.”

Kali was right about the wait. In less than ten minutes, they were walking back towards the Capital District, taking small bites as they went. She had chosen the stuffed grape leaves, which were filled with a mix of vegetables, lentils, split peas, and walnuts, then lightly coated in a tomato sauce. Lucian had gone for a skewer of minced lamb spiced with turmeric and sprinkled with parsley flakes.

“You’re almost right about the food,” he said between mouthfuls. “Almost worth sabotaging an evening over.”

As they started up the hill from the plaza, Kali asked for a third time, “Why are we out here tonight, Lucian?”

“You’ll see. I think it’s almost time.” He picked up the pace, taking them back up to the top of the Seacleft where they had agreed to meet. “Perfect!” he said, surveying the city. It was just now getting dark and the full moon was climbing it’s way into the sky.

“What’s perfect? What am I looking for?” Kali asked.

“Just give it a couple of minutes. I’ll find one.”

She finished her dinner while he looked, and then waited, growing more impatient by the minute. But before she could get irritated enough to ask “What are we doing out here tonight?” for the fourth time, he said, excitedly, “There! Over there!” He was pointing towards the Keystone district. Towards Seerspring Garden.

“What am I…?”

Kali’s voice trailed off as she spotted it. A light blue glow in the park, shaped like a human figure. At first she thought it was a spell but then it moved. It moved like a person. And then as she watched, transfixed, she saw another glowing blue shape, only this one was flying over the city. She traced it’s progress to the Garden, where it landed next to the first figure. Except there was now a third one there, as well.

“What are they?” she asked.

“They’re yamahs. They’re a type of azata. Come on! Let’s get you a closer look.”

Normally she’d object to the backtracking—they were just down there, after all—but there was no way she was saying no to this.

“Why are they here?” she asked as they jogged back down the hill to the plaza.

“Magnimar is home to a number of unusual religions. Among those are people who worship some of the empyreal lords. Ashava is especially popular.”

Kali knew a little bit about Ashava. She was also an azata, and her faithful referred to her as the True Spark. She sought out lost spirits and guided them to safety by moonlight. What is her holy symbol, again? A silhouette? A woman silhouetted against …

“The lunar eclipse,” she said, interrupting her own thoughts as the realization dawned on her.

“The lunar eclipse,” Lucian responded, nodding. “Other celestial events, too, but these are more frequent.”

“Lucian, I had no idea … I mean, Magnimar! Of all places!”

“It can be a magical city. At times.” Even with the qualifier, that was high praise from a Varisian.

They had just passed the bend in the wide, cobblestone street that would lead them past Lowcleft and on to the gardens when Lucian came to a sudden stop. Kali almost ran into him.

“There,” was all he said.

Kali saw it. Saw her. In the distance, coming up the street towards them.

“Come on,” Lucian said. “Let’s get out of the street where you won’t be so obvious.”

Kali blushed and said, “Sorry! It’s just—”

“I know. My first time was like that, too.”

The yamah was tall. A little over six feet tall, by Kali’s estimation. And she was beautiful. The celestial had glowing, blue skin and long, flowing hair that was as black as the night sky. As she moved, her white gown gracefully danced around her ankles and her hair sparkled and twinkled. Like stars, Kali mused. Her most amazing feature, though, was the enormous pair of blue butterfly wings attached to her back.

“Gods,” Kali whispered.

“Yeah,” Lucian replied. “You haven’t been here long, but you’ll … well, you won’t get used to them, exactly, but you’ll at least stop gawking when they walk by.”

She could tell he was grinning without even looking at him. It was enough to snap her out of her reverie. They waited and watched until the yamah had passed and only then did Kali notice that she was walking with someone. A human woman, probably Varisian, dressed in vibrant blues and greens. They were chatting with one another, like any two close friends would do…when one of them wasn’t six feet tall, blue skinned, glowing, and sprouting wings.

“Incredible! Thank you, Lucian, for bringing me out here tonight.”

Lucian laughed. “You would have seen them yourself, eventually, but what fun is that? I really want you to have the guided tour.”

“What are you talking about?”

Smiling, he answered, “We’re going to the Garden to visit.”

§

Most of this was inspired by material in Magnimar: City of Monuments.


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This was one of the first background stories that I wrote for Kali, and there are references to it throughout her journal.

Early autumn, 4705

Kali tasted blood and sand.

She wanted to open her eyes but her face was clenched so tightly from the pain that it was squeezing them shut. From her chin to her ear, sharp jolts radiated outward, each demanding her full attention. The pain intensified to the point where she wanted to scream but then it suddenly went numb.

She was aware of the the ground pressing against her right temple, and tears flowing over the bridge of her nose. She had not cried like this in years, but she had never hurt anything like this before, either.

Her mind was spinning, unable to focus on any one thought long enough to piece together what was happening or even where she was. All she had was now. Feeling the sand and blood congealing on her tongue, she instinctively tried to spit it out but the pain returned in a burst so severe that it made her nauseous. Kali froze, letting the qualm pass and the pangs recede back to numbness. Don’t throw up don’t throw up don’t throw up.

Finally, a singular, clear thought formed. He broke my jaw.

She opened her eyes, but could barely see through the tears that were pooling in them.

She wanted her mom.

Someone was standing over her; someone she knew. A man? Yes. He was asking her something but she couldn’t understand the words. She knew it sounded like a question, but that’s as much sense as she could make of it. When she didn’t reply, he bent down to look at her more closely. She couldn’t make out his features at first other than that he was big, but then she recognized him as one of the Scarnetti boys. The older one. What is his name? He turned his head and she heard him call out to someone. To the Theern twin?

The thought asserted itself a second time: He broke my jaw.

My rescuer is a Scarnetti. It was madness, but she didn’t care. Whatever f%$@ed up moral code that family lived by at least included “not beating up young girls”. That was good enough for her.

“Don’t try to stand up,” he said.

Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do that?

Then she noticed she was on her hands and knees, with one foot brought forward readying to push herself up. What am I doing?

She shifted her weight back and settled onto her rump, arms still stretched forward. She just lay there, completely unaware of how much time was passing. He called out again, but she wasn’t listening. She saw that she was sitting up now—I don’t remember doing that—and that the two of them were not alone. Some of her friends and a few other girls that she knew were standing around them at a polite distance. She knew their faces but couldn’t form any names.

She lowered her head to let the blood, saliva, and sand drip from her mouth. She didn’t dare try spitting again. When she looked up afterwards she saw the small crowd had parted and through it she could see the Theern boy face down on the beach. He wasn’t moving. Is he dead? A small, muscular figure was standing over him and she recognized it as Qatana. Gods, she looks like a wild animal. What is happening?

“Don’t try to talk.”

I already figured that one out, thanks.

“She got to him first. Pounded him good.”

Kali tilted her head to the side, which he interpreted as a question.

“He’ll live, don’t worry. You, too. Help’s coming.”

She was not, in fact, worried about Theern but she was worried about herself. She knew this was bad. Really, really bad. There would be no hiding this from her parents, even if she wanted to. Except she still didn’t know what was going on.

The pain was coming back, a heavy throbbing that was impossible to ignore. She held back tears through sheer force of will.

She wanted her mom.

Someone else arrived. Her vision was blurring again and she couldn’t make out who it was. The newcomer was pulling something out of a pack or a bag.

You don’t seriously think I can drink a potion like—?

And the pain was gone, so abruptly that she reflexively swallowed and nearly choked on the sand still in her mouth. Kali coughed, spit, and gagged, and nearly passed out.

Someone gave her water. When the spasms ended she swirled some of it around in her mouth and spit it out, then took a long drink. When she looked up again she saw Qatana was gone, and sitting across from her was—

“Shalelu?”

The elven woman was looking right at her with an intensity that was unnerving. Kali had trouble reading her even at the best of times and at this moment Shalelu was completely inscrutable. It gave Kali chills.

In Elvish, she asked, “What did he do to you?”

    She had actually been invited. Not told she could come along, not encouraged to come by one of her friends, but actually invited. And by Sefa! An afternoon on the beach, just being out with a couple of friends and a few others around her age. This had never happened before. So, yes! Hell, yes!

    She had been searching for something. Agates? Pink agates. They were extremely rare, but they always seemed to turn up at this spot on the beach after really high tides and last night was a new moon. It would be something she could give to Sefa as a small gesture. She had just found one and was headed back down the beach to where the others were when she tripped on something and fell. She looked up and saw Jefy Theern standing over her (she was finally able to tell the vile twins apart) and … nothing after that.

    Until the pain, sand, and blood.

That wasn’t the answer Shelalu was looking for, though, because what had been done to her was obvious. Kali’s Elvish was good, but she was still in shock. She realized she must have misunderstood the question so she went over it again in her head. It may have been, “What was he going to do to you?”

A horrible chill ran through her as more memories flooded in, and she started shaking violently and uncontrollably. The blood drained from her face and from her head, and the ground disappeared beneath her. She was aware of a frenzy of voices from somewhere far away.

In the distance, so faint she could barely hear it, Shalelu’s silenced them all. “No. I will deal with him.”


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Do you find these side stories interesting at all, or just distracting?

Sarenith 20, 4712 (Risa’s Place, Sandpoint, Late Afternoon)

“Do your parents still hate me?”

Kali gave Alexis a half smile and replied, “Do yours still hate me?”

His smirk turned into a huge grin. He picked up his cider and took a long draught from it, not taking his eyes off of hers.

“They didn’t hate you, you know,” Kali said. “Dad wasn’t happy, of course, but it wasn’t personal like that. Even less so for mom.” Kali paused briefly and smiled. “And you know what she’s like. As soon as others started making it their business, she almost became supportive.”

Alexis chuckled softly, took another drink, and said, “Wish I could say the same. Being half-Chelish really just made it worse.”

“I am surprised they even let me in the house.”

He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the left. Kali was familiar with that gesture: he didn’t care what they thought. He probably still doesn’t, she thought.

He said, “It’s OK. You can say what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?”

“‘The feeling is mutual.’ I know you don’t like them, either.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

“OK. But tell me I’m wrong about that last part.”

Kali grinned, then finished her drink without saying a word.

“Thought so,” he said smugly, and then grinned right back at her. “I’m used to it, you know. Comes with the name.”

“You’re the black sheep of the family. Or would that be the white sheep?”

Alexis snickered at that. “Maybe grey. I’m running one of the mills, remember.”

“Light grey. Send my best to Sefa, just in case I don’t see her while I’m here. And tell her ‘congratulations’ for me, too.”

“You should drop by the manor.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“We do have a private wing. One of the few good things that came out of the fire.”

“Oh, good! Then all we have to do is smuggle me inside, and back out afterwards.”

Alexis grinned as they stood up from the table. Kali pushed her chair in and then gave him a quick hug.

“Thanks for doing this, Alexis. It was good to see you again.”

“Same here. Tell your parents I said ‘hello’.”

Kali laughed at that. “Uh huh. Only if you do the same.”

Alexis gave her another huge grin and said, “You know what? I think I will.”

§

____________________________

The Scarnetti family is kind of the punching bag in Sandpoint, and in RotR specifically. The thing is, families like that are complicated, and not everyone can be painted with the same, broad brush. So, I imagined what it would be like if Kali had actually been involved with one of them when she was a teenager.

I actually have a journal entry from when Kali visited Sefa, but I left it out when posting the entries here back in December of last year. I've included it below for the curious.

Erastus 26, 4712:

This takes place in Sandpoint, right before Kali, Ana, and Ameiko returned to Riddleport

Erastus 26 (Evening, Riddleport)

I decided Alex was right, so I visited Sefa this morning. When was I going to have another opportunity?

I took a page out of my parents’ book and dressed to the hilt. Why not? I was derided by this family because of my heritage, so naturally I flaunted it. I chose my best sari, a deep red with gold accents and a 9-foot drape, over a matching choli.

I have no idea who the woman was that opened the door. I just announced myself as if I didn’t care (and I didn’t).

“Miss Kali Nassim of Magnimar, requesting an audience with Mrs. Sefa Scarnetti.”

The key is to be gracious and polite, no matter how many scowls it earns you. The worse you are treated, the more formal you become. Watching Titus glare at me as Sefa showed me to her wing of the manor was the highlight of my day.

After gently ribbing me for being overdressed for just a casual visit (“I felt like making an entrance,” to which she replied with a giggle, “You most certainly did that.”) we talked for a couple of hours. For me, it was, for the first time in over a month, a regular conversation about nothing of consequence: motherhood in general, her baby specifically, living in Sandpoint, and more than a little reminiscing. Between that and watching her with her son, and then holding him myself, it was one of those moments that almost had me re-examining my life choices.

Almost. I had chosen my path and I was happy with it, but I could certainly appreciate hers.

“Sefa, can I ask you something personal? You don’t have to answer.”

“Of course you can.”

“What made you decide you liked me?”

This was a question that had been on my mind for years. Making friends with Sefa had been something of a turning point, the beginning of the end of being an outcast, harassed and bullied for whatever reasons that children are labeled as outcasts, then harassed and bullied.

She thought for a moment, then said, “At some point, I realized that what was happening was just…cruel. I saw it for what it was.” She shrugged, then added, “And then I got to know you.”

“Our friendship…it changed my life. I wanted you to know that.”

“Thank you, Kali. That means a lot to me. And I met Alex because of you, so…it changed mine, too.”

I kept this same outfit on for the remainder of the day. I felt like returning to Riddleport in style.


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Memories: The Horse

Sandpoint, Summer, 4707

Kali found Anavaru in the back of the stables tending to her horse, brushing out his tan coat using a wide, wooden brush with stiff bristles. The hair had gotten lighter during the summer months and huge piles of the blonding strands were collecting at Ana’s feet.

Kali wasn’t exactly sure how to start this conversation. While this was well in the past, Kali had some moments when they were younger that she wasn’t proud of, and that was on her mind. She felt awkward and embarrassed about bringing up anything that might sound critical, even by accident.

She cleared her throat to get Ana’s attention.

“Hi, Ana.”

Anavaru turned her head and smiled though she did not stop her brushing.

“Hi, Kali.”

After a brief and uncomfortable silence, Kali said, hesitantly, “I’ve…uh…I’ve been meaning to tell you something—”

“I know.”

“Err…I mean, I just thought you should know, because you don’t see them up here—”

“No, I know already.”

“Oh! OK. Because, I wasn’t sure if you were aware—”

“Yes, I know my horse looks an awful lot like a camel.”

This joke about Anavaru's animal companion started in her character's background story, and it became a running gag between the two of us in the campaign. We never once referred to it as anything other than a horse, even when talking to the other PC's in the party. Alas, her player had to leave the game due to other commitments, though she and her "horse" are still with the caravan as NPC's.


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This journal is just two sessions behind our game now, so I'm adding these short background stories to smooth the transition to less frequent updates.

Memories: Cliff Street

Early Fall, 4700

"Go away."

Ameiko stopped under the trees that stood between Cliff Street and the bluffs for which it was named. Kali was sitting in the tall grass a short distance from the drop-off, staring out over the water. Gulls rode the currents along the ridge, rising overhead to hover briefly before dropping down and vanishing over the edge.

A long silence passed before Kali spoke.

"If you're here to yell at me, too, don't bother. I don't care. So just leave."

Ameiko stepped over to her and sat down without saying anything. Kali turned away, putting her back to Ameiko as she sat.

Ameiko said softly, "I'm not here to yell at you."

The onshore breeze picked up, lifting the gulls high above. Kali watched a half dozen of them hang in the air, wings outstretched. An even longer silence passed before Kali spoke, her voice breaking slightly.

"I hate them."

"They're jerks. Just ignore them."

"I can't. They won't leave me alone."

"Getting angry will just make it worse."

Kali knew she was right. She knew it. But that didn't mean it was easy to let it go. It all started when she was eight: names, some jokes behind her back, hushed giggles and laughs. Two years on, it had turned to this.

Very gently, Ameiko added, "Ana isn't one of them. Neither am I."

Kali knew she needed to apologize to Ana, but she didn't want to. To make matters worse, her parents had found out about it because everyone in Sandpoint hears about everything, eventually. She had never seen her father get that angry before and it actually scared her. It also made her want to apologize even less.

"Taking it out on your friends isn't going to help."

Kali also knew that Ameiko was right about that, too. Ameiko was always right. But Kali didn't want "right", and she most certainly didn't want to be reminded of it. What she wanted was to be mad.

So she stood up abruptly and stormed away.

§

One of the things I like most about this story is that it hints at just how much of a boor Kali could be when she was growing up. Of course, no one deserves to be bullied and maligned, but lashing out at your friends in response is hardly excusable. I wanted to point out that, in those early years, Kali could be very difficult and she was occasionally hard on those who cared about her.


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Memories: Nualia

Spring, 4701

Kali scampered down Main Street, taking care to avoid running into a pair of guards leaving the garrison as she slipped between it and the town hall. She didn't want to miss too much of the sunset over the water, but colliding with someone on the busy streets would guarantee that she'd not get to see anything at all. She rounded the corner with equal care, a right turn that took her to the cliffs overlooking the gulf. She could see the enormous glassworks a couple of buildings down on her left as she trotted out to the edge.

The sun was just above the horizon, still bright but turning a fiery orange as it sank slowly to the water. She sat down on a comfortable grassy spot just a few feet from the edge that had become her favorite viewpoint, so caught up in her routine that she did not realize at first that she was not alone.

She recognized Nualia, of course; Kali knew who Nualia was within days of moving to Sandpoint. Everyone knew Nualia. At barely eleven years old Kali had been fortunate to see more of the world than most people would in their lives. She'd seen humans from nearly every continent and humanoids of all types, but Nualia with her silver hair and purple eyes stood out among all of them. Not that she hadn't come across others with a distinct or unique appearance, but those were all cross-breeds of some sort. Nualia looked both human and otherworldly at the same time.

What did mom say she was? Aas-something?

"It's not polite to stare."

Kali turned her head away quickly, feeling embarrassed. She could tell her cheeks were flushing as she said, meekly, "I'm sorry."

Nualia was laying on her side in the grass just off to her right, one hand resting on her abdomen. Quite a few people in Sandpoint came out this way to watch the sunset every now and then, but this was the first time Kali had run into her here. For some reason it made her uncomfortable.

Nualia turned to face her.

"You're Kali."

It wasn't a question, but Kali answered as if it was.

"Yes, miss."

For just a fleeting moment Nualia looked annoyed and Kali was embarrassed again.

Dummy! Just talk to her like she's normal.

People did weird things around Nualia. Not so much the ones living in Sandpoint, but those in the farmlands out to the east. They would ask to stroke her hair, or to have a lock of it, and to touch her face or hand. Some even asked her to kiss their children. Once while she was out with her parents Kali saw someone kneel at Nualia's feet in supplication, and beg or pray for something. She wasn't sure what because she couldn't hear the words, but her mom was very annoyed and remarked harshly about the farmers being superstitious. Her dad was more reserved, but she could tell he found it terribly rude and he was shaking his head as they walked away.

"Other kids pick on you."

Also not a question. This time Kali didn't say anything. Yes, some of them did; she was getting used to it, and was learning who to avoid and who to ignore. That didn't mean that she wanted it pointed out to her. Uncomfortable under Nualia's gaze, Kali looked down. Her eyes found a patch of dirt in the grass.

Nualia turned away, staring out over the gulf where the sun was dipping into the water, slowly turning from orange to a deep red.

After a couple of minutes she said, matter-of-factly, "It gets worse."

The sun set in awkward silence.

§

In the first year of the game, a couple of us shared a handful of background stories about our characters. This is one of the first ones written for Kali.

As I mentioned earlier, we chose to set our campaign in the same continuity as our previous (3.5/OGL) RotR game, which means most of our JR characters lived through those events.