Black Princess (very long)

[Kyle Foster]

Tim,

Just allow me to say that you are the man!

This is great stuff and I really hate you for coming up with it instead
of me :) j/k.

I look forward to the write up on the artifact.


Kyle

[Tim Nutting]

As promised:


_______________________________________________

Tara, the Black Princess:

One lives this long and starts to wonder what those events long past were
of. I canst look upon these places and people, and lo can I see the mark
of history upon them. So too, can I feel the calling within me, and still,
if ever so barely, remember the teachings of my sire.

Twas a glorious time, for we then were free of the dominion. None but we
held the key to our destinies. To be sure the lands were wild, and we
found new enemies to sharpen our wits against, even those that had seemed
like allies to begin with. Yet even then there was an exhilleration, a
thrill at living. A shame I seem to have lost it, and sorrow fills my
heart, black though it may be, that I cannot remember the time of the
losing.

I remember him. As first daughter to the Second Lord of the 12 Houses, I
often supped with the First Lord and his kin. And he was ever a dark
presence, a brooding shadow of his father. Tall and powerful, handsome and
ruggedly attractive, nay, even beautiful. When he sought to charm those
about, he could, and with a statseman's grace it was. When he sought the
company of a lady, she was his. Nay, twas never in so crass a context as
that, but still, a stolen kiss and the promise of more kept a few young
maids waiting up at night, praying that Raesene would come and save them
from the dreariness of their families.

He was cynical. At this time we were just entering into discrepancies with
the Sidhe. There were nigh short of displeased with the invasions of some
of our logging camps, and of all, it was Raesene first who counseled how to
deal with these "so-called elf lords". He counseled of his father bloody
raids and swift reprisals, for we were surely within our rights, as
outlined by those treaties signed decades ago.

I was young, and though it be shrouded in mist, I can remember well the
rage within his heart when the First Lord announced that it would be Reole,
his next son, and given by his consort rather than his love, that would
succeed him. Raesene fought hard, insisting that, though the bloodright
was not his, surely his deeds had earned it.

In disgust one night, he left the grounds where now stand the Imperial
City. At this time it was but a small castle, small for these times, but a
monument to our skill of the age. We would eventually hear more of him,
and when he cam back he would be called by the First Lord, the Black
Prince, but never unto his face. Lo did the title infuriate him, for it
embodied distrust and all the further did the First Lord push Raesene away.

I was still attracted to him at the time, but was well counseled in the
nature of mairages, and it was for Reole's side that I was groomed by my
father and mother, and all the ladies in our house. In fact, the betrothal
was announced a mere week before Raesene's return. I a mere 17 years of
age, and Reole all of 14 summers. Haelyn then was still nearly a child, 13
summers, and yet to grow a beard... but such a light was from him. He
radiated purity and honesty, and allready had taken the vows of a Paladin
of Anduiras, surly one fo the most noble callings of my era. He had not
the eyes for women, only for the service to his God.

Months and weeks, years passed in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed, for
now the mairage was approaching, and all about us did we hear rumors of
war. The Black Prince had gone off with his war band to carry the fight
back to this "manslayer's" Ghallie Sidhe, for we had then officially
declared war on the elf lords and their vicious ruler, Tuar, and her bloody
general Rhuobhe. Though men tell horror stories of the terror the ghallie
Sidhe caused, little is recorded of the bloody reprisals of the Black
Prince. For every human village burned to the ground, a dozen elven
children were captured, bound, and burned at the stake. The losses were
high, but little did he care, and he an his most trusted "friends", those
dark soldiers like him who reveled in blood, some of the most fearsome
warriors of the Andu, those men lived through it all. Even today, the
Manslayer and my destined husband are mortal foes, for they each stand for
a different spectrum, and at the core to both remember the days when they
sought each other in battle.

Then came the unthinkable. One week a lone rider struggled in from the
front, and he bore grim news. The Vos were at our doorsteps. We had heard
savage stories of them, how they seemed to have abandoned Vorynn's gently
ways to take up mace and sword, and they were close. Forces were
assembled, and a muster was sent to attempt to stem the tide of savages.

Again a lone rider would bear news. This time the lone rider was Raesene,
and he came with a message of terror, the First Lord was dead, as were
Reole and Haelyn.. the Vos were coming. In the middle of the day did he
stride into my house, and declare that as the rightful lord of Andu, he
would have a noble wife, and he took me. There was aught to be done, for
though I struggled, the message was believed, and my father, though
stricken at the news, and stunned with his new Lord's behaviour, allowed
Raesene to abscond with me.

The events are clouded now, but well do I remember those weeks following.
I found myself a captive, a slave to the dark melancholy of Raesene, and he
who my heart had fluttered for in days gone by became the worst sight. It
was all of three weeks later that the full, awful truth came to light.
Raesene had lied. Reole and Haelyn were not duead, but the First Lord was.
Nearly a thrid of our forces, some of them from my own house, felt as did
Raesene, and had pledged to him their lives. They were given free reign to
exercise their vices, and were promised wealth and glory in his army. The
army of his new Lord. The Shadow.

It is the one moment of my life that I truly knew terror, for I was
permitted to gaze upon the face of the Shadow, to see Terror incarnate, and
to know what it was to stand in the mighty presence of a God. Azrai, the
Vain, the Beutiful, was the most enchanting creature I had ever seen,
perfect in form and feature, incredible in voice and action, a perfect man.
He glowed with an aura, an aura of power. It was Azrai that gave the
malediction for my wedding to Raesene, for though my spirit screamed
rebellion, his dark gaze and the power of his new Lord held me in its sway,
and I was force to say "yes".

I shan't bore you with the events of the War of Shadow. The "current"
chaimberlain speaks of it full well in his new book. A pity it has taken
him so long to write it, but then, I hear when you write such an
undertaking as the history of Cerilia, the years fly by as if they were
centuries.

I met all of the Inner Circle. I was paraded before the impresive tsarevo
Belinik and his sister Karesha. I saw the passion for power in their eyes.
I met the man who would become the Serpent. I even met those most
shadowed of men and women, the Disciples, though they now be Lost to the
ages. Within me did the fires of hatred burn, and I began to seek ways to
do harm to this war in any way. Misery was my constant companion, for
though I longed to assault my husband with words, all it took ever was
alook, and the words melted, stolen from me, and my rage was left without
voice. Still present and ever briming, but voiceless to be conveyed.

The war went badly for my bretheren, and sorrow waged war in my heart at
Deismaar. Those cold slopes knew the end to my way of life, for I had
harbored hope that one day I might be free, that one day those stalwart
enough could free me from captivity, that Reole would come for me... Oh,
did I dream that he would come for me...

From the pavilion of my husband was I "permitted" to see the battle. When
Azrai laughinly touched my mind and bid me to give a loving farewell to my
noble husband... Hatred welled in my soul, and all my rage found
expression in the blackness of my heart, for as the battle waged despair
became my companion, and I knew forever more that I would be slave to the
Black Prince and his dark God.

Then was the Sacrifice. How can one even hope to describe the catalsclysm
that ensued? How best to convey it? I knew something was amiss at the
peak, for the light and dark raged across the mountain, and I could see my
husband dueling with the man I loved. My hatred for Raesene boild over and
finally a voice was found as I screamed my hatred! And that was my
undoing.

Then and there did Anduiras make his ultimate sacrifice for us all, His
life for ours, His will, backed by all his Brothers and Sisters, to cease
the ragings of their dark Brother. The explosion destroyed the mountain.
How does one explain the assault? At once my rage hearkened to it a force,
a power about me, a dark maisma that somehow shielded me from the horror of
the blast, and though I could look left and right and see my entire
palisade consumed in a blasting wave of force and fire, though I could see
in exquisite detail as Marena, my maidservant was consumed and destroyed, I
lived.

When I awoke, it was to the gim apparition of Raesene. He was darker, more
menacing, and somehow more massive than before. Where once was a man of
tremendous physical power and skill, now hulked a behemoth. Juggernaut
incarnate. He was physically no larger than before, but his presence
crushed the soul. And though I sought to lash out at him, he stopped me
with force and bade me to look into a mirror. The first taint of my hatred
for him was made self evident, for no longer did my eyes have pupil, ebon
black they were, all the way through.

I wept.

Centuries would pass in the interim twixt then and now, and telling thee
the whole of the tale would make it far less dramatic. Well my new
companions, I shall save the rest of it for a time whence the fires burn
low, and when you are ready for more. Believe my tale or not, I care not.
The pact has been made, and my service is thine until we find the relic.
At that time will his dominion o'er me cease for all time, and the dark
legacy of hid God will be erased... for all time.

Goed Eve.
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The above is a tale from the eyes of Tara the Black Princess, the former
wife of Raesene. Her bio may be found in the Player's Secrets of
Tuarhievel, a book thoroughly discussed by the list (you know who you are).
:)

Tara has undertaken a quest now, for my campaign is centered around the
eventual return of Azrai to the living. I have thrown this out on the list
before, and it seemed that it would be taken up, but Essence of Evil was
cancelled, and now I am free to make my own way.

The players are being led on a chase for an item known as "The Chalice of
Haelyn's Tears". This cup was the drinking mazer of Haelyn during the
battle of Deismar. When he died and assumed Anduiras role, he went fully
prepared. In the sorrows that followed, in the chaos of the battles after
the Great War of Shadow, Haelyn wept, and this chalice caught a portion of
those tears. In his sorrow, he lost the cup, dropping it from the heavens,
by accident it would seem.

I will provide a complete write up of the item to the list when I have more
time to do so, but suffice it to say that the biggest element of the
Chalice is that is "purifies the blood". These statements by Anduiras
church were misinterpereted by others to mean that it would enhance their
blood and make the dominant line the stronger (in my game we keep track of
how much or your bloodline is yours and what you have stolen, and who
from.), but as Tara insists, the reality is that the Chalice will transform
she who drinks the water, and remove the taint of Azrai, changing for all
time the derivation of the drinker to Anduiras.

Tara has two main goals - cease being an awnshegh, and irritate the Gorgon,
embarass him to no end. In her words, when you live long enogh and do
something for long enough, you must needs find a focus in your life, else
you will fade away.

Well - nuff for now

Tim Nutting