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Naatme frowns at the descriptions of the depredations of both gnoll and orc, and seems on the verge of speaking when Okaris returns and demands entertainment. A wry smile twiches her mouth, "Good, I doubt they wanted to hear my lecture...why were you going to open your mouth, Naatme?" She looks to Arian, holding up her curiously calloused hands, "My instruments are ready, Arian."
Naatme rised to look at the finished painting, leaning in to see herself for the first time on canvas. "Your talent is impressive, though I believe you might have embellished my portrait.." she says modestly. She then turns to Arian and Lark, "Though of Garundi heritage, I am a native of Katapesh, and if it's gnolls you seek, you've come to the right place. They are a plague on the attempts of good people to civilze these lands." this last she says vehemently, hand curled into fists more hard than one would expect from a Garundi maiden.
Naatme
Loyalties and Drawback:
1. Order : Naatme values the order provided by civilization, and abhors the chaotic lawlessness of the wild Gnoll tribes
Personality:
Naamte is open to all and sundry experiences. She does not judge others, only herself, and that sometimes harshly. Her aim is the perfect meld of mind and body her teacher spoke of. That can only come through the striving against challenges, small and mighty. She relishes the opportunity to prove herself against whatever the world has in store. Appearance:
Her dusky skin smooth and unblemished, Naamte is the picture of Garundi maidenhood, that is until she moves. Smooth and effortless, she moves with an economy that shouts comptetence, of a sort that is never associated with traditional Garundi girls. Dresses simple, her eyes are alight with endless curiosity, but her face is mask of calm, collected determination Homeland:
Born in Kelarane, raised by esoteric organization The Brethren high in the Brazen Peaks. Background: Born in Kelmarane to a poor family of peasant, Naatme was the youngest of 8.
As children do, they entertained themselves. Naatme and her immediate sibling not
It was on one such jaunt, that Naatme proved to adept at evading her silbings, hiding
Only to be awoken by screams of pain and terror. Sitting up underneath the backet,
Terrified, Naatme stayed where she was. Then a smaller gnoll strolled by her hiding
It rounded on her hiding spot, and with a squeak of terror, the young girl flung off
With a hoot of canine laughter the gnoll pursued, being much quicker than her, it
Finally, her memory failed, and she ran into a dead end. Chortling, the gnoll appeared
Grabbing a nearby piece of wood, Naatme made to protect herself, as she'd seen
Swinging the stick wildly, Naatme managed to keep the gnoll away for a few minutes,
"What have we here?" a smooth voice said from behind the gnoll. It turned, startled, ignoring Naatme, and saw a man standing there, garbed for the desert, leading
Confused for a moment, then gnoll realized the man had no weapons. It's courage
"Tsk, tsk" the man admonished, then punched the gnoll with his right hand. The gnoll flew back to his the wall beside Naatme, clutching its chest , blood already
Naatme watched the gnoll die, then turned to the man. A cloud of smoke blew past,
"Amazing you survived, child. You've some spirit in you, I think." the man
Scooping up the girl, he rode out of the ruined city. High into the hills he rode, higher still into the mountains. Ultimately,
Here Naatme lived and grew, starting training and learning the ways of the Brethren.
Her studies progressed to the point where she was chosen to assist in the Archives, assisting
So outstanding was the outcome of her training, that Naatme then was allowed to
Besides her training and duties with either the Archivist or Mystic, Naatme
It came to pass, that an envoy from a neighboring valley was to visit. All sorts of
The visitor came in the evening, the Brethren were all assembled in honor of the
Overcome with dismay, Naatme watched with jealous eyes as the young man chosen led
Later, she watched as the other student assisted the unicorn, taking its tiara and placing
Naatme watched the unicorn settle down for the night, then waited. Finally, full
"Hmmm, yes...no one will find it there." the deep , resonant voice of the
"Why do you do this?" it asked, "To what end?" Naatme found she could not answer, for there was not answer, none that justified
Nodding, the unicorn's gaze pierced Naatme to the soul, laying bare her her inflated self-esteem
Abashed, Naatme looked at the floor, then back up at the unicorn....who was gone! In it's
Seeing the panic and puzzlement sweep across her face, the Mystic smiled and said, "Worry not.
Knowing she was dismissed, Naatme returned to her small room and lay on her simple cot, mind racing.
Soon she was waiting outsider the Mystic's chambers, the two guards there pretending not to notice
Kneeling before a balcony, facing the dawn, the Mystic waited. A hand indicated where Naatme should sit. "What have you discovered, pupil?" he asked, eyes closed. "I took for granted was was given to me. I expected the honor, and when I didn't recieve it... I grew
The two sat quietly for a few moment, watching the sun rise together. Then with a fluidity that belied his age, the Mystic rose and bade Naatme rise as well. Formally, he bowed to her, "I can teach you no more. You will go from this place, not banished, merely
Thinking she was dismissed, Naatme was not dismayed by the Mystic's words, she turn to go, but a grunt from
He was holding a scroll out to her, "A parting gift. Fare well, my friend." Standing outside the Mystic's chambers, Naatme looked at the beautiful calligraphy written on the scroll's parchment,
She turned back to the now closed door, whispering "It was you...."
Grr...not going to have time to get this done tonight.
Naamte turns to then newcomer and nods a greeting, "You must have encountered the same storm that I had, " she says, raising her dust infused arm wraps , "You are lucky to have made it through, the haboob is nothing to trifle with." With a gesture she indicates that Nurush should avail himself of the fruit and bread and ale upon the table.
background rolls: Town or Village Both alive Lower-Birth Peasants Major Disaster Lineage Holder The Mystic Petty Crime Non-Humanoid monster Jealousy Resolution: a few significant relationships
Fluff based on this to come...
As she remains adding a beat to Arian's playing, Naamte contemplates Okaris' question, "My Master says he's taught me all he can, so I am thrust out into the world. What do I do? I seek my past. " she says engimatically, before watching her questioner surge out into the crowd. She continues to clap, occasionally slapping the table to add a different sound, or a double clap here and there, all the while watching Arian's fingers as she plays, seeing there similarities to the rhythms and movements of her own art. She catches Faffynr's comment, and cocks her head curiously, "Just a woman? I doubt that." she says firmly, "My Master always said, the gods to not choose lightly. Saranae chose you. You are more." she continues with a smile for the holy half-orc.
Naatme watches as the other non-regulars slowly congregate, taking a long draught of water, sighing as her body greedily consumed it...she could feel her tissues re-hydrating as she listened to the impromptu concert. One eyebrow rises in curiosity as her birthplace was mentioned, she could hear her Master's voice in her head, Coincidences are opportunites, never neglect them." Placing the now full waterskin into her pack, Naatme picks up her mug and the wide platter of bread and fruit and rises. "If I may?" she asks the assembled, placing the platter within easy reach, "I don't sing or play, but I can clap." she says with a pained smile, her lips still dry from her journey across the desert sands. As Arian plays, Naatme starts up steady beat, dust rises up in small clouds from the wraps that still cover her arms.
The snapping winds pause, the sand settles and the searing heat on the dunes returns. A dark shimmer appears on the horizon, the waves of heat distorting the figure walking there. Tall, spare, covered head to toe with dusty wraps, a weathered burnoose flapping in the renewed breeze. The figure looks down at the town for a moment, then trudges down the sandy slope, arriving shortly at the nearby gate. The slovenly guard stationed there watches agape as the figure walks past him into the town, travellers on foot out of the desert....unheard of....and , he realizes with shock as he watches the figure walk away....a woman! Unerringly, the woman walks towards the center of town and pauses at the meager baazar, noting the unlikely name of the only tavern. A smile twiches the dry lips beneath the face-cloth, and she pushes the heavy door open easily. A gust of wind picks that moment to push a cloud of dust and sand into the common area, "Close that door!" the barkeep barks. The woman inclines her head and allows the door to slam shut. Dark eyes scan the room, noting the obvious regulars, then the half-orcs, the handsome Dervish, the studious mage...the painting. Smiling again, the woman begins to unwrap her head, revealing a calm , dark Garundi woman. With a shrug of her shoulders, her pack falls, to be caught by her left hand. Careful of the javelins attached to her pack, she takes a seat at the bar and waits for the barkeep's attentions. Once he arrives and looks at her speculatively, she lays her waterskin on the bar, "Fill this with your sweetest water, and a jug of the same for me. Bread. Fruit." she asks simply, her voice harsh and dry from the desert. With a nod , the barkeep takes her waterskin away, leaving the woman to sit, contemplating the dry skin on the back of her hands. Among the quiet hubub of the tavern, she hears a couple declarations to the Dawnflower, and nods , thinking, "A good place, that has such people in it."
Profile Fixed.
Grr. Darn interweb... I will fix profile tonite
Here's Spazmodeus' submission. |