Tieszla Paavo-Honefist's page

About Tieszla Paavo-Honefist

Tieszla Paavo-Honefist knew a fairly idyllic life throughout her childhood. The eldest child of blacksmith Rill Honefist and his lovely wife Sidra Paavo, she lived with her family in the town of Dagmont. Located on the southern shores of Conqueror's Bay, it sat across from the city of Veldraine on the narrow inlet that opens into Korvosa's harbor further to the east. A rich mine in the nearby Mindspin Mountains ensured the town bustled with industry and it was a splendid place for a smith to raise a family. That is until the atmosphere of the town curdled as Tieszla passed her 15th summer.

The troubles began with miners and homesteaders from the outlying areas coming to town less and less. Finally they stopped being seen around town altogether. When patrols were dispatched to investigate, entire farms and mining camps were found abandoned often without a trace of their former inhabitants. Occasionally, shocking amounts of gore were discovered but never any bodies and no clear indication of what fate had befallen the residents and labourers.

In Dagmont, chicken coops were raided mercilessly; livestock was discovered torn apart; graves were found disturbed. The town was seized by conflict and suspicion. To make matters worse, its people were gripped by a plague the likes of which the tiny church of Pharasma had never previously encountered. Hushed whispers circulated that sometimes those who succumbed to the strange illness vanished mysteriously...or worse. Neighbour turned on neighbour and all the industry that was the lifeblood of Dagmont ground to halt. Since Tieszla's grandfather had built the smithy business from the ground up and all of Sidra's relatives lived in the little town, the family was reluctant to leave as many others had in the face of the growing difficulties.

The last memory Tieszla has of her father is him pressing the sword that normally resided above the mantle, his prized possession, into her hands. He wore a harried look of desperation that she had never seen before as he explained that her mother had fallen ill; he would have to fetch the priest. In the meantime, she was not to enter the bedroom where Sidra was convalescing. He enjoined young Tieszla to protect and care for her sister, Astrid, and her toddler brother, Atle, promising to return shortly.

Day stretched into night and night into day again with no sign of Rill or the priest. Although she tried her best to remain alert, Tieszla must have dozed because a terrible shriek shocked her to wakefulness. When she cast her gaze about in a panic, her brother was no where to be found. She raced into the hallway and was confronted by the scene that would change her life forever and shape her future: her once beautiful mother, skin sallow and sagging, bony fingers tipped in sharp claws and eyes milky with the pallor of death feasted upon poor Atle who struggled weakly in her grip even as she devoured his tender flesh and the innards of his wee body.

Screaming in combined rage and horror, Tieszla cut the monster down, slashing and slashing until the pieces finally stopped twitching and grasping at her. Behind her, Astrid keened non-stop, digging deep and bloody furrows into her face with her fingernails as her sister dispatched the creature that had once been their mother. Breathing heavily, her fury exhausted, Tieszla kicked the corpse into the bedroom and closed the door. Poor Atle was beyond aid so the girls wrapped him in his favourite blanket and placed his ravaged body in the root cellar. He deserved a proper burial but Rill had made Tieszla promise not to venture outside and, by the faint sounds that echoed from across town to their little home, it did not seem safe to do so.

For the next two days, the girls huddled together in abject terror, trying not to think of their mother in the next room or where their father might be. When the thumping and low growls began to issue forth from the root cellar, Astrid finally cracked, tearing at her hair and wailing until she was hoarse. When she could scream no more, Tieszla's sister fell silent and would never speak again. Just as Tieszla felt sure she was herself on the brink of madness, the sound of heavy boots and gruff male voices reached her ears from the kitchen. Then suddenly the door to their room burst open and the girls were saved. Someone had managed to get word of the situation in Dagmont to the church in Korvosa but the response had not arrived soon enough to prevent the tragedy. Pharasma's agents dispatched the undead and the refugees were taken to safety in the city.

Fostering in the church of Pharasma, Tieszla burned with her hatred of the abominations and the need to avenge her family. She trained with her father's sword, learned every little thing she could about the undead and honed her skills under the tutelage of the militant arm of the church. She grew into a mighty warrior with a reputation as a fearsome opponent of the risen dead who works on the behalf of her church wherever her services are most needed.