Post by Dark on Jan 25, 2007 7:36:41 GMT -5
Rough Background:
Growing up in a quiet, small farming town, Aliah never really fit in. When the girls would be off playing in the flowers, Ali'd be running about in the fields with the boys, playing with wooden swords.Scolded by her parents and ignored by most of the children, she grew bored and spent most of her days sneaking off to ride her Raven-black horse, Imiari, or practice sword fighting against the scarecrows.
Once she hit Sixteen, she grew even more tired of life there. After reading up on every last map she could, she started to plan. Picking the lock on her father's chest, she gathered up his old soldier's armor and Bastard sword, took part of the day's food and her only loved posessions, stuffing them in a pack. She un-tied Mia' and rode off into the night, headed for the city of Neverwinter.
She lived off bread, apples, water, milk and cheese stolen from home, sleeping by the road side as she got tired and riding whenever she could. One morning she awoke to the sound of burning and whimpering, finding her possesions strewn about or stolen, the blanket upon her slowly crackling. After springing up, Ali set her jaw and paused, swiveling as she noted Mia was not in sight. After a long, panicked moment, she spotted her lieing ten meters away, one arrow through her chest and one through her stomach. Gathering up her bandages, tears streaming down her cheeks, she set to work on saving her beloved mare.
As the day broke, a tired figure stumbled along the road side, her dirt and tear stained figure siloutted on the rising sun.
Two years later, a smirking youth stood, leaning on the wall outside a bar, smirking slightly as she cleaned her blade. Pushing off, she ran around a corner and disappeared at the sound of yelling guards running towards the tavern. The confused guards paused, slowly following a line of blood drops through the doors and into a backroom, where the decapited corpse of a shady figure lay in a crumpled and limp heap over a table with his fisted hand forced half open, one word carved into his back. "Mia."
"Mia" Lived on the streets of Neverwinter, spending most of her time fighting, whether in the streets or with against masters in training halls, till she decided to set out for further training- And ended up here.
Growing up in a quiet, small farming town, Aliah never really fit in. When the girls would be off playing in the flowers, Ali'd be running about in the fields with the boys, playing with wooden swords.Scolded by her parents and ignored by most of the children, she grew bored and spent most of her days sneaking off to ride her Raven-black horse, Imiari, or practice sword fighting against the scarecrows.
Once she hit Sixteen, she grew even more tired of life there. After reading up on every last map she could, she started to plan. Picking the lock on her father's chest, she gathered up his old soldier's armor and Bastard sword, took part of the day's food and her only loved posessions, stuffing them in a pack. She un-tied Mia' and rode off into the night, headed for the city of Neverwinter.
She lived off bread, apples, water, milk and cheese stolen from home, sleeping by the road side as she got tired and riding whenever she could. One morning she awoke to the sound of burning and whimpering, finding her possesions strewn about or stolen, the blanket upon her slowly crackling. After springing up, Ali set her jaw and paused, swiveling as she noted Mia was not in sight. After a long, panicked moment, she spotted her lieing ten meters away, one arrow through her chest and one through her stomach. Gathering up her bandages, tears streaming down her cheeks, she set to work on saving her beloved mare.
As the day broke, a tired figure stumbled along the road side, her dirt and tear stained figure siloutted on the rising sun.
Two years later, a smirking youth stood, leaning on the wall outside a bar, smirking slightly as she cleaned her blade. Pushing off, she ran around a corner and disappeared at the sound of yelling guards running towards the tavern. The confused guards paused, slowly following a line of blood drops through the doors and into a backroom, where the decapited corpse of a shady figure lay in a crumpled and limp heap over a table with his fisted hand forced half open, one word carved into his back. "Mia."
"Mia" Lived on the streets of Neverwinter, spending most of her time fighting, whether in the streets or with against masters in training halls, till she decided to set out for further training- And ended up here.