Khalida's page

About Khalida

Khalida grew up as a slave / courtesan belonging to a desert noble - mother was slave / courtesan to the same noble, and to his father before him. She inherited the battle poi (heritage weapon trait) from her mother, whose skill had kept her in a favoured status. The noble’s youngest daughter fancied herself a warrior princess and enlisted her youngest brother and (ordered) Khalida to engage in secret mock battles to indulge her dream. When the noble, not an especially good or bad man, died of an unusual wasting disease his brother inherited everything, as none of the noble’s sons were yet adults. The brother was quite harsh and abusive, frequently beating wives, servants, and slaves alike. In time, a member of the Andoran faction came to her master’s court.
Master Ghantrell came as a guest and debated philosophy and politics with the master of the great house, for the noble sought always to appear learned and well-cultured. Master Ghantrell did not care, for he came to learn the man’s secrets and use them to unseat the iron-fisted ruler. In time, Ghantrell came to see the abuse wrought upon the man’s household and contrived an accident to end him, opening the way for the eldest son - a much kinder and enlightened young man. The ‘accident’ failed, and Ghantrell soon found himself hiding in the harem rooms with the fire-dancer, a girl with whome he had become friends during the weeks of his plotting. They escaped together after freeing several others into the care of Andoran sympathizers and led their pursuers on a long chase to give the others time. Across the desert lay places to hide and friends to aid them.
The chase proceeded for several days, but the men had beasts to ride and they had none. They left the trail during a sandstorm in hopes of letting slip their trackers, but the men finally caught them out in the open desert, far from any witnesses. They overwhelmed them with magic and numbers, violated her body and beat her senseless, and opened all of the Master's large veins. As he bled to death, they laughed and watched as she feebly tried to staunch the blood. Then they slashed the water-skins and left them both to die. "Dear Khalida," he rasped, "take my things, take them and find shelter…" Ghantrell faded and died.
In a haze, she gathered the few morsels of food she could find amongst the ruin of their pack and searched it for any useful thing. A needle, a hidden dagger… The rest was shredded, shattered, or scorched with arcane fire. She crawled beneath the noonday sun until it set, searching for shelter. A slab of rock protruding from the sand promised some small comfort, so she crawled into the sheltered side and tried to dig out a small hollow to escape the night wind. The was no strength to resist when she fell through into an empty space beneath the slab and on into unconsciousness. When she woke again it was cool and dim. A thin trickle of light shone down from far above and there was a faint smell of water. Water! Scrabbling around in the twilit cave, she searched for the water she so tantalizingly smelled until her hand met with damp sand. Greedily, she dug until her hand finally splattered a thin layer of water. She patiently sucked at the gritty, bitter, wonderful water as it seeped up out of the ground ever so slowly. Weak but alive, she looked around. Someone else had been here before, for a small shrine had its own place at the far end of the low cave, and she crawled over to it. A woman's likeness had been carved from the rock, a hard-looking woman, empty-eyed and cold of countenance. Behind her was the symbol of a dagger, on it remnants of white pigment. The shrine had a small shelf at its base, as if for offerings. An insect moved from behind the little altar, and she snatched it up and ate it, then paused gift the altar with a bug leg. An offering for an offering; a life for my life? She giggled. I think I am going mad. Indeed, she was. She made a game of drinking from the soak, and a ritual of capturing the insects creeping about the cave. She was incapable of climbing out in her condition. She began to talk to Master Ghantrell again; even though she knew he was dead, he couldn't be dead - he had promised to help her live, hadn't he? He said something before he… Before he… Went away? Fell asleep? It didn't matter - he would always be with her. She and the Master and the Lady began to have long talks about life and death and slimy courtiers and ice. Ice? In the desert? Oh, that was the Lady again. She liked ice, and sorrow, and ending - and she liked the dagger. After a week or more in the cave she stopped feeling hungry or thirsty, but that couldn't be right, so she kept drinking from the soak (alternating sides of course) and hunting the cave bugs (to catch them left-handed, as was proper). The days got much longer, too. She would sleep, and wake, and it was ever so long before she tired again so she spoke with Master Ghantrell and the Lady more often. Eventually, because he was… no, not that, he just, just can't help, now right now. Eventually, she asked Her for help, for strength, because Master Ghantrell couldn't help her. The Lady, surely, knew what it was like to lose everything? Khalida could see it in Her eyes when they talked. Khalida woke one night with a voice whispering in her mind - Words with Power & a Meaning behind them. She Spoke the Words, and made the Signs, and she was free. She walked back to the city through the desert. She each night and awoke in the deepest part of it to pray to Her. She asked the Lady to give her water and the Lady gave her the Words & Signs to make it so. She asked the Lady to keep the beasts of the desert from harming her, and the Lady's Power wrapped her in the bones of guardians. As she neared the city, a man came upon her and tried to force his will. The Master tried to stop him, but couldn't. Khalida understood that, it was okay. The Lady told her to touch the man, that then he would stop, so she did. The man lay down with great bloody wounds and did not move, so she left him there and went on. In the city she went and found caring people. The Lady let her take away pain and hurt from her new friends. They gave her things, sundries, clothes,… In time, she felt she should go north. So she did, and in time joined the Pathfinder Society and the Andoran cause.
Khalida is wiry-slender and a little taller than average (5' 6" & 107 lbs). Her eyes are a vivid green colour, and her hair is dark, but bleached by the sun. Her skin is olive-toned but relatively un-weathered. She wears Bedouin-style desert robes for travel/adventuring and an entertainer's ensemble composed of cream gauze and near-white scarves embroidered on their ends with white daggers. Thin gloves protect her hands and smoked glass lenses cover her eyes against the desert sun. She is sometimes seen to fire-dance with a well-crafted battle poi and often converses with an unseen companion. Her eyes, when uncovered, are distant, and her gaze disconcerting to others. Despite her small stature & size she can strike down a full-grown man. She does not seek out conflict, but will deal harshly with those who seek to treat her ill.
Khalida is somewhat insane, but not flamboyantly so, I should think. She does not care to see people suffer, but those who deliberately cause suffering deserve their own pain. She does not want to acknowledge that Master Ghantrell is dead, has rather thoroughly suppressed it, and will vigorously deny it. If she ever encounters the noble or the courtier (she does not remember their names and does not actively seek them) she will methodically work to kill them (she will be driven to make sure that they are killed by her Touch). Otherwise, her insanity has left her rather aimless. If she encounters a way to return her Master back to life she will do so, but she does not have any portion of him.