The world exists in a precarious balance, one that if lost can cause the
destruction of all life through the rending of existence itself. This truth
among many others was vouchsafed me by the wise old hermit that rescued,
raised, and taught me. He saved me in the beginning, and he saved me in the
end. There are no beginnings and no ends, a trite bit of his wisdom... One
I have yet to validate for myself. But I have learned to visualize the
balance and the various powers that subtly and not-so-subtly alter it
so perhaps this also is true.
Smuggling had always been a lucrative profession in my homeland, Mudfall.
Not inherently dangerous unless you were dishonorable about it, or so I
thought. People of all kinds partook of the lax borders and duties imposed
and others openly flaunted their peddling of the rare, the valuable, unique,
and often magical. The wizards were the worst, giving away powerful weapons
and dangerous fireworks willy-nilly. Considered a youth in the reckoning of
my people, I fancied myself a part-time treasure hunter and archaeologist
and reallocator of sometimes preowned artifacts. In the time-honored ways
of my people, I made a sliver of a living off of those that smuggled while
not partaking myself. While not alluding to any incriminating situation
this eventually landed me in a spot of trouble, to be rescued by an unlikely
hero; A wizened old man with a freaky looking topknot!
He admonished me for my slick-fingered ways, and demanded I redress the
karmic imbalance caused by the same. In my opinion he was looking for
free labor that amounted to indentured servitude. Carry the jugs of water,
sweep the ground, separate the sand from the rice, paint the walls, chop the
firewood, fold the laundry, beat the sheets clean. All very physically
intensive tasks for my previously dainty self. When I finally snapped, he
put me in my place with a simple neck pinch. There are no beginnings, but it
was a beginning....
A diminutive, slender woman is here before you accompanies by the
faint tinkling of bells. They are strung throughout the two elaborately
tied blonde braids that trail from either side of her head. Her mature
looking face strongly contrasts the child-like appearance of her body.
It is small and fit with elegant lines and lithe musculature. Her azure
gaze contemplates the world with equanimity from within a pale, fair
face. Her ivory unblemished skin is comparable to that of a porcelain
doll, save for the scars marring her disproportionately large hands
and feet. She bears a tattoo of the manifestation of the yin and the
yang as well as a multihued rainbow butterfly on her exposed ankles.