Zajian's Characters

Bio:

A past, worthy of nightmares, haunts Kuro to this day. Fire and brimstone rained from the skies as loved ones are felled by an enemy shrouded in darkness. Her mother, Ka'aer, head Priestess of the village, had a vision of this and hid her among the slaves; thus, saving her from the cruel fate laid before her. She vividly remembers the scene, as if she re-lives it every night, but, midst all the carnage and death, a single face looms overhead.

Upon entering the town of Marthias, she was bought by a rich family of aristocrats to be used as a maid. Here, she was treated poorly as they disgusted her race. The abuse ranged from harsh verbal abuse to agonizing torture. Her most common punishment for making a mistake was starvation. Here she was miserable, but she picked up how to speak the common language. When she managed to slip away from the eyes of her captors she hid in the library and learned all she could. The Draconian language, Swordplay, even the value of money, which includes the value of material possessions owned by aristocrats.

On the day of her 103rd birthday, although she appears to be around the age of 18 or 19, the house was ransacked by a myriad of thieves. She, being the only eye witness, was captured again. The group of people she was taken by were none other than the notorious guild of thieves. Here she grew up and learned their ways, but not for the sake of stealing, nay, for the sake of foiling them. She was reminded of her past when she came to be 110 years of age. As she was passing from her quarters into the mess hall, a path she had tread thousands of times, she noticed a door, which was usually always locked, was open. Letting her curiosity get the better of her, she entered the room. Inside, a lone tree was chained to the ground, not a branch was spared. Pain surged throughout her body and she began to hear a voice calling to her. She staggered towards the great tree and placed her hand upon its trunk. The pain immediately subsided and she could now clearly hear the voice. The voice spoke and said that it was an ancient ent and that it knew her mother well; they were close friends. It continued on to say that it did not have much longer to remain on this earth and that it would help her by any means necessary. A blinding light filled the room and born from the trunk of the ent was a bow. A magnificent bow, sturdy, powerful. The last words the ent spoke were words of warning. "beware the shadows, beware the one who leads..."

These words set hard in her heart and left a cold lump in her stomach. The words were vague, but she was certain she knew what it had meant. No one knew what the leader of the guild looked like, but she was determined to find out. Armed with her bow she snuck into the masters chambers, only to find Azaeroth, a friend. He was abducted from a monastery not too long after she was taken. He was beat up frequently, but he never raised a hand in defense, ever. They waited for hours, until finally the man of the hour had shown himself. No one had seen his face, due to the fact that he always hid behind an iron mask, but here in his quarters, he let his guard down. Horrified by the painful memories flooding back to her, she let out a gasp. The man immediately stood up and drew his sword at Kuro. The both of them were forced the exit their hiding place and present themselves to the master.

"well, look what we have here... hey, you look familiar... where have I- AH! yes. I seem to recall exterminating a village of elves that looked just like you... my, my, my... small world" said the master as he raised his sword

Kuro's heart sank further down for every inches that the sword was raised, for she knew this was the end of the line. Azaeroth, having stood idle for quite sometime, placed his palm against the master's chest. Mused, the master let out a small chuckle, which Azaeroth met with by sinking down low and loosing and ungodly punch that reverberated throughout the underground complex. The room was silent for what seemed like an eternity, until slowly, the master crumpled into a heap on the ground.

The two made their escape and fled to the other side of the city where they started up the Dragon's bane Guild. It's a somewhat awkward place meant for the oddballs and screw ups that just can't make it on their own, but it's not like they refuse normal people either. Azaeroth would stay in Marthias to manage the headquarters, but Kuro still needed answers. She traveled back to her village only to see it was exactly as she had left it. The bodies had long since been pick of flesh, leaving skeletons as markers of their existence. Back in her home was a note that read, "Should you be reading this, please know that you, Kuro, are the last of our kind... we have buried the sacred item of the village... you know of it's location, please, take it and save this forsaken race"
The note had more to say, but Kuro could not bear to read anymore. It pained her heart to read a note written in her native tongue, more so to read a note written by her mother. She gave each elven soul a proper burial and proceeded to the Altar of the Kings. Here, a pattern was inscribed. She chanted the ancient hymns of her ancestors and revealed a chalice, which she filled with water and placed within the recess. It began turning and grinding, until it was upside down and it's contents ran it's course down into the basin. The scared object, a single edged longsword, rose from the altar, flawless, with the ancient hymn of the divines inscribed onto the blade.
Now, with all her affairs settled she travelled to Zalam, another city in the Marnithal Continent, and started another branch of the Dragon's Bane Guild, where she has lived til now, her 110th birthday. Although no one can explain why she still looks 19.