Miyari's page

The first time I laid eyes on Glen it was outside of a friend's home. It was hard to determine what sort of creature that he was, thus the only thing I knew was that he was the sort of creature who was unpleasant to look at.

It was 8:00am sharp (I knew, as I am seldom early and never late) and the clock in my friend's home was once again showing an incorrect time. The black, curved hands of the clock seemed to be intact despite the age of the timepiece and it's inability to display the correct hour. The hour hand pointed to the twelve and the minute hand to the five. Either I was late to breakfast (impossible) or the clock was once again misaligned.

I recall the Issian Lady Paulette sighing, “An heirloom, you know, left to my by my great-uncle. I have had the engineers come in four times now in order to repair it, and in the night I think the hands get caught on some part of the inner mechanisms. I haven't the training to fix it myself and I am losing my patience with these craftsmen. I know your father is- or was, my apologies- an engineer, perhaps you will understand the inner workings better than I?”

While my father was a craftsman, moved from the tribe I would have been born into in order to seek a more civilized life, up to the quieter, cool lands of northern Bravoy, I did not have the same abilities as he. He had received instruction from the local clockmaker during his and my mother's tenure as servants in his shop, and I received little in the way of such training before his recent passing from pneumonia. I shook my head and apologised to the Lady, peeking once more at the clock upon breakfast. The minute hand had travelled to the eleven while we discussed other matters, and I excused myself, my mind still drifting to the strange clock.

This is where I encountered Glen, peeking into the window of the house, mumbling to himself and trying (though I didn't think it then) to catch sight of the clock.

“What are you doing there?” I asked the creature, “My friend would not appreciate you snooping about.”

“Snooping?” replied Glen, almost seeming offended at the idea. He shook his head and corrected, “Investigating. And you say your friend lives there?” The small man looked me up and down, and I was not able to tell if it was suspicion or excitement that was in his squinted eyes.

“Well, yes. I have many friends in town, I have breakfast with Lady Paulette every Oathday,” I replied.

Glen interrupted me. “But your workday begins at nine, as a clerk in the town hall, is that right? Come, Glen will walk with you.”

“How would you know that? I've never seen you before in my life!” I replied, surprised.

The man tutted and shook his head, gesturing for me to follow as he walked to the building, “Glen does not need to have seen you before to see you now. The fur on your left hand is worn compared to the fur on the right, with discoloration that suggest you've dragged it through ink and graphite. Glen sees by the way your weapon rests on your right hip that you must be left handed, and a key hangs around your neck. Based on the design of the key, it is not a key for a lock that you would have been able to afford, and thus must be owned by the township or a successful business. Removing the businesses that would open before eight o'clock on this, a work day, and the ones that would not require for you to write, that would leave the town hall.”

“Ah, but what if the key belongs to my home? I am having breakfast with a Lady, maybe I am just well off,” I said, skeptical that this goblinoid of a man could have determined this in such a short time.

“Firstly, it looks at though you are wearing your formal work clothes, but they too have the stain of ink on the left sleeve as well as some wear around the seams. This suggests you wear this outfit frequently, hardly the habit of a woman of means trying to stay in fashion,” says Glen. While I was somewhat offended by the implications of what he was saying, I could not deny the truth of it. “And again you wear your weapon, a woman of means would have a guard to protect her. Maybe you have friends in high places, but you do not hold a high place yourself.”

I sighed, “When you put it that way, it seems it would be obvious to anyone looking. You are correct, I work as a clerk. I know my kind is uncommon around here, and I want the people who look after the town's affairs to get used to seeing my face so that they may be more comfortable with my becoming some kind of official myself. My father and mother were servants, but my father gained respect through his craft. I still live with my mother, but she does not leave our home much since becoming a widow...” I trailed off, narrowing my eyes in thought as the town hall approached us. “Even though I don't have noble blood, I think that I have what it takes to lead. I'm still young, but I have a great deal to learn. I've made many friends hailing from many places, though, and one can never go wrong by making the right friends.”

Glen appeared either distracted or bored, and knowing him as I do now, I think it was a mixture of both. “Well,” he said undiplomatically, “You do know how to talk.”

“Oh. Yes. I do at that.”

Miyari's parents had travelled from their catfolk band in order to join more civilized society, though they ended up in the more remote northern part of Brevoy, Issia. Miyari was born after the pair had emigrated, their first and only child. She was wanted and loved, as her parents had tried to conceive for a long time, resulting in stillbirths and heartbreak. It was only after six years of trying that Miyari would be born, against the odds. It would be quite fitting that she beat the odds, as it turned out she always seemed to have a little bit of luck on her side. While she was different from other children in the town, the children of other races were fascinated by her soft fur and her softer charm and thus made fast friends with her.

As she grew from a child to a teen, she would try to take on as many activities that she could, organizing others of a similar age to her in order to accomplish whatever she thought were noble goals at the time, whether it was beautification of the town, or was leading her band of teens to look after some of the more helpless, elderly members of town, as well as anyone who was sick or in general need of help. That's not to say that they did not get into their fair share of trouble; while Miyari and her friends seldom tried to inconvenience anyone directly, they could be loud and would sometimes dip into the drink and other substances that they perhaps should not have.

Still, her general good intents and care for the well being of the town didn't go unnoticed, so when her father fell ill, the township took notice. They helped to provide Miyari and her mother everything they needed to survive, even giving Miyari the chance to work at the town hall like she had wanted to for a long time. Her father's death by pneumonia came only a few months after he fell ill, and Miyari still continued the combat lessons that her father was giving her just to pass down the techniques of their tribe.

She had a knack for lucky strikes, and the way she described it, it was as if time were slowing down and she were able to see the openings before they occured. She was told that this was normal, as one becomes more adept in combat it will be easier to see the moves that one's opponents telegraph, though she pushed to try and achieve these kinds of lucky strikes more often. In Miyari's view, luck and that feeling of being in tune with time were one and the same.

Shortly after her father's death, Miyari stumbled across Glen the Goblin, and they would become fast friends as they worked on the Case of the Broken Clock, which Miyari would later write about in her free time at the clerk's office. With Glen's wit and insight, and Miyari's charm and luck, they made a very effective team. The clock failed several times to keep proper time, and upon investigation, they found out that a servant thief was using the clock as a way to signal the hiding places of their loot to the engineer, transporting it seemlessly. Following the clues, Glen and Miyari caught the men in the act and apprehended them.

Seeing the value in a partnership, and with Miyari always keen on helping others out and bolstering her own reputation and Glen always on the search for a new puzzle, they set out to look into other minor cases that had piled up in town. Ultimately, the area was too small for them to gather much of a following, so when Miyari heard about the charter from Rostland, she was instantly intrigued. A reputation could certainly be built in such a place, and with the potential of civilizing the area, Miyari also saw the chance to realize the potential she believes that she has as a leader. After discussion, Glen decided that if they were to have a hand in creating a kingdom, that he would have a chance at becoming a royal investigator. Miyari, on the other hand, had much more lofty ambitions. She said her farewells to her mother, sought company with some friends in their journey to the south. With fortune and foresight on her side, she travelled south to seize her destiny.