Neoni's page

Neoni stands 6'2'' tall, smoothly muscled and lithe. She sports talismans and fetishes but more importantly is the mask that sits on her head. Fearsome of appearance, she only usually wears it in battle, but will occasionally scare the little children if they beg for it enough. Grey-green skin and prominent lower tusks reveal her orcish heritage, but the rest of her face is pure Shoanti.

Neoni accepts her purpose in life is to assist those in need. Whether by the force of her sword or the cleverness of her mind or the healing touch of her magic. She is fearless in the face of danger, but does
not bedrudge those that do quail in the face of death. It is her destiny to put herself in danger , that others do not. Part in parcel with this philosophy is a joie de vivre, Neoni loves life, loves living.
Good food and drink , good company...at the table, on the battlefield, and beneath the sheets...are essential to a good life.

Neoni’s heritage was interesting, at least that’s what she tells anyone who asks. Her father, Neltoin’ar’Farah, was the leader of an elite subset of the Moon clan; the Tlee’ana’Ten, which roughly translated from the Shoanti tongue means ‘The Scarred Ones’. Harkening back to the age of the Thessalonian empire, this sub-clan carried on ancient tradition of adding ritualistic scars alongside the usual Shoanti tatoos. Neoni was born of a savage tradition, where every victory, loss, lesson was carved into one’s skin as a reminder and warning.

Neoni’s mother was something different entirely. Her father had led a retributive raid into Belkzen territory when his raiding party had fallen upon an Orc caravan. All were put to the sword, except for one. Sitting in her wagon, an orc witch watched the slaughter of her guard impassively. When the hulking Neltoin loomed over her, she accepted her fate with equanimity. But something held the fatal strike. Staring down at the orc maiden, Neltoin was fascinated with the intricate network of scars covering the witch’s skin. Despite the concerned glances of his fellow raiders, Neltoin commanded the witch be bound and trussed and brought back as his slave.

Back in his camp, Neltoin questioned the witch, whose name was Shurk. He wished to know more of the scars, what power she derived from them, trying to find parallels with his own heritage. His desire for this knowledge was blunted by the witch, her answers oblique and riddlesome. Growing more and more obsessed, he spent more and more time in Shurk’s dark tent, leaving his duties to subordinates, shirking his responsibilities.

Gradually, Shurk did reveal some information to Neltoin, where she learned her craft, some of the meaning of the scars, the importance of her mask; which was kept from her at all times. She’s grown used to the notion that she probably wouldn’t see her home again, and being of practical bent, made the best of it.

As it is wont to do, feelings surfaced after some time, for Neltoin was not a brute and Shurk was quite intelligent. Neltoin had revealed some of the history of his own scarring rituals and both wondered if it was possible that both traditions had the same source in the depths of time. This furthered the connection that was growing between them.

This did not go unnoticed by Neltoin’s family and comrades. Whispers and rumors abounded, until the council commanded Neltoin to refrain from further contact with Shurk and to surrender her to the council for ‘removal’. Neltoin boldly defied the council members edict, until he was brought bodily before them once more and threatened with exile should he refuse their demands. Neltoin laughed at the threat, daring them to carry it out, knowing Shurk would be safe as he revealed she was with child…. his child. A startled murmur flowed through the council, with the head of the council bringing down the edict of exile upon Neltoin.

But, Shurk’s fate was sealed. The Shoanti were not without compassion, and to slay the unborn was a crime they would not commit. That she bore the progeny of one of their greatest warriors, despite his exile, brought Shurk many comforts, but they did not save her in the end… her labour was long and hard and ultimately fatal.

Thus, was Neoni’ar’Neltoin brought into the world. Neltoin’s family took her in and raised her as one of their own. A half-breed, Neoni faced much discrimination, but that served only to bring out her toughness and determination.

Years passes and she learned her lessons well, earning scar after scar to complement the Moon-clan tattoos that also adorned her skin. Neoni excelled in all that her family and clan taught her, but she still felt like an outsider.

Old enough, and accomplished enough, she asked an aunt to tell her about her mother. She’d learned much about her father during her adolescence but naught of her mother.
Though reluctant at first, the aunt finally relented and told Neoni of Shurk, and the relationship she’d shared with Neoni’s father. The aunt had been one that took care of Shurk during the pregnancy and had become something of a friend. Shurk had told the old woman many things that should be passed down to her son or daughter…. should she not survive the labour. These things the aunt revealed to Neoni now. Where Shurk and been trained in witchcraft, details about the traditions of her order, that her blood had power…power that could only be harnessed through the ritual scarring.

Wide-eyed, Neoni could only nod, accepting the wisdom passed to her from the mother. Despite her successes with the Shoanti, she’d felt outside…that something was missing. She’d only developed her human side, now was time to accept and take up her Orc heritage as well.

The aunt could only nod and smile, pressing a necklace of pale, oblong stones into Neoni’s hand, ” She said this was your birthright, present this to the coven…”

Neoni left that night, running across the plateau towards Belkzen, avoiding Shoanti and finally Belkzen patrols to find a tiny temple hidden in a long narrow canyon.

Walking boldly up to the entrance, not gated, she stopped and waited.

The sun cast long shadows down on the temple courtyard within, and from those shadows stepped a dozen hooded figures. One advanced to stand before Neoni, only darkness visible beneath the hood.
Ancient hands rose to pull the hood back, revealing an old Orc woman wearing a hideous mask, the skin visible covered with gossamer scars.

” Leave now, or be destroyed, interloper!” the Orc hissed.

Neoni ignored the command and held out her mother’s necklace, ” I claim my birthright! I am daughter of Shurk!”

The Orc witch’s eyes narrowed and focused on the necklace, then Neoni’s face. One of the wizened hands reached out and moved Neoni’s face from side to side. Neoni accepted the rough handling, until the examination was finished and the dry skinned hand was retracted to merely wait, palm up.

” The necklace.” the witch commanded.

Neoni complied, placing the necklace in the outstretched hand.

The witched hand tightened around the necklace and the other hand passed over it many times, the stones glowing with a soft green light.

The witch’s eyes rose to meet Neoni’s , ”This is Shurk’s necklace. You are of her blood. Come, child.”

The witch turned to retreat back into the shadows, and Neoni noticed that the other witches had already done so.

Without hesitation, Neoni followed the witches into the darkness.

What followed was the most brutal two years of Neoni’s young life. Endless mental exercises, physical exhaustion, her willpower drained away to nothing; the witches taught her a way of looking at the world Neoni could never have imagined.

Ultimately, a final ritual remained.
Following the head witch and a few others out into the wilderness, they climbed steps carved into a tall butte.
There at it’s summit, a sacred place.

” You have done your blood, Shurk’s blook, great honor, Neoni. You have learned our lessons, our way, her way, your way. “ the witch said, holding out a vial of dark red liquid. ” Drink this and the final mystery will reveal itself to you. “

Without hesitation, Neoni quaffed the potion and took up a position, kneeling in the center of the holy area.

Quickly the magic of the potion too effect, Neoni’s perceptions changing, warping the world around her, then freezing…it had become night, insects buzzed on the periphery of the holy site, but all was still. Neoni felt a ‘presense’ above her and looked up.

There the moon lay, heavy and bright, taking up the entire sky, ponderous with power and intent.

Neoni smiled and spread her arms, to take in the power, take in the moon, take in…. take in…take in….

She never realized that she’d fallen asleep, waking curled up on her side on the rock, quickly warming in the morning sun.

A quick glance to the sky revealed only blue sky. She turned with a smile to comment to the witches that had accompanied her, but they were no where to be found. Only the mask she’d made during her trials with the witches remained…and a fresh scar on her arm… a crescent moon

Nodding, she realized this was part of the ritual. Her path was hers to choose. Travel back north into the Orc lands or South into Varisia.

Rising to her knees, Neoni closed her eyes and said a prayer thanking both her father and mother for the strength of body and mind they’d given her, but most importantly for the blood of two peoples that ran through her veins.

Gathering up her gear, Neoni descended the butte and after only a moment’s thought, turned South.

Travelling quickly, Neoni visited her Shoanti family’s village, where she was welcomed warmly but with some reservation, as they could tell she had new power within. Neoni stayed for several weeks, but realized that this wasn’t her destiny as well. Here or in the Orc lands, she was outside. She needed to venture beyond, to find where she belonged.

Bidding farewell to her family, Neoni travelled further south, out of Shoanti lands. There among the Southron peoples she still found resentful glances or down right fear at the sight of her split heritage and the scars of her dual traditions. Still when she lent her strength or her mind to help those in need, the gratitude was genuine.

Thus, did she find her calling among the strange peoples of the southron lands.