The Moonlight Exile, Ch 1: Emancipation
Posted: Mon Jul 17, 2006 2:14 am
The Moonlight Exile
Emancipation
Note: These events are not written from inspired gameplay, they are the first installment in the ongoing chronicle of my new Live PC, Sappho Nightstar. I decided to give her some background and this seemed like a good way to do it, especially since I've put a lot of time and effort into Sappho's creation. So enjoy, fair reader, the beginning of the life and times of the Moonlight Exile.
A bound and caged woman with a silken hood obscuring her features sat alone behind gilded bars, the centerpiece of a garden party, pale skin shimmering in the moonlight, she hardly moved, save for the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. All around her odd figures, their faces hidden by golden masks seemed immersed in the festivities. A faint ticking sound softly resounded from the distance, but the party “guests” did not seem to notice, the woman in the cage stirred. Tick-tock, tick-tock the sound grew louder and still the people of the party were ignorant to its presence; talking, laughing and dancing, chatting in elven as they grouped around the refreshment tables. The woman in the cage seemed to be the only one who could hear the tick-tock in the distance. She had woken now, and from beneath the silken hood, titled her head as though listening, the ticking had become deeper, more resonant and even its pace was quickening, indeed, the ticking wasn’t ticking at all, it was the sound of approaching footsteps….
Sappho Nightstar awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed; she shook her head in an attempt to shake off the fogginess of her restless sleep. The footsteps however, didn’t fall away with the rest of her dreamings, they grew louder, and then suddenly stopped, before a loud clicking came from her ornate chamber door as it swung open. Standing in the doorway was a young elven woman; it was Amalien, Sappho’s handmaiden. With a few graceful strides Amalien had crossed the room and proceeded to open the curtains, flooding the room with bright morning sunshine.
“Quel’amrun Lady Sappho.” The handmaiden said as she strode about the room, setting out clothes and freshening flowers. “Good morning to you too Amalien, what hour is it?” Sappho asked, getting out of bed and walking over to the bath that Amalien was pouring. “It is the eighth hour of this cycle Lady, surely you are not so tired as to forget.” The handmaiden answered with a cheeky smile. Sappho shook her head, “No, not tired, but I did fall from reverie into sleep again.” A rare thing for elves, sleep was only usually necessary when great exertion had been set upon oneself. “It’s the third time this month, and I had another dream.” Sappho added as she undressed and got into the bath.
“The same one as the others?” Amalien asked, handing Sappho a sponge and some rose oil. Sappho nodded, and quickly dismissed the worried look on the handmaidens face with a short explanation. “But Elendyll says that it’s completely normal.” Amalien nodded, pointing to the now freshened bed she added, “Your robes are over on the bed lady, and there are fresh towels on the armoire, is there anything else you need?” “That will be all Amalien, thank you.” Sappho replied. And with that, the handmaiden walked to the door and said, “Oh and before I forget, your mother would like to see you for breakfast, don’t be late.” The handmaiden turned away and left, her footfalls softly echoing down the corridor.
Sappho, relaxed in the bath for a few moments, the steam cleared her head and the smell of rose filled her senses. She hoped that Elendyll was right, he should be, and he was the temple high priest after all. Sappho was an acolyte at the temple of Sehanine Moonbow in the temple district of Leuthilspar, she had been since she was old enough to learn divine magic, and use a quarterstaff. Her mother, Saelihn and her aunt, Halaema, were the twin sisters and co-rulers of house Nightstar and were both two of the most respected and revered seers in all of Evermeet.
So essentially, as soon as Sappho began to show signs of having the same divining and clerical ability as her mother, she was sent to the temple to study and practice in order to become one of Sehanine’s faithful. Elendyll, the high priest of the temple, often favored her because of her heightened abilities and her inborn charm. Sappho enjoyed her training at the temple, as her father often visited to give classes on weapon use and training, subsequently, she could use a bow like any of her woodland kin, and was not bad with her swordwork either, coupled with the fact that she was top of her class in everything from crown-wars history to divine spellcasting, more than a few people had noticed how talented she was, and how short a time it would be until she was given the title of Amandil, or priestess.
Sappho smiled at the thought of finally rising into the upper ranks of the temple, and learning the higher secrets of Sehanine and the pantheon beyond. She got out of the bath and toweled herself dry before sitting in front of her mirror and brushing her hair, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, one year out from her first century and still no more mature looking than a tenyear ago. She was beautiful, as all elves are; but her moon elven lineage gave her appearance an almost ethereal look. She had pale skin; the color of a frosted pink rose, but her hair was as dark as midnight.
She was tall and like most moon elves, shapely and lithe. Her eyes were azure blue with silver rays radiating out from her pupils, which earned her the nickname “Twinkle” that she still hadn’t taken a liking to. Sappho braided her hair around the back of her head and rose, picking up the clothes Amalien had laid out and put them on, they were white and dark green and felt as though they were no thicker than air, such is the skill of the elven weavers, Sappho tied them up, and headed out the door.
Sappho entered the corridor and followed the stairs down and out into the courtyard, the sunshine was warm on her skin, and a light breeze whipped around the courtyard, carrying with it the smell of freshly cut grass. It was a beautiful day, typical Leuthilspar weather. She crossed the courtyard and entered the large stone doorway of the great hall. The guards opened the door and Sappho proceeded down the hall, past the large dining tables for the patrons of house Nightstar, to the table at the head of the hall, at which her mother, her aunt and her handmaiden were seated. “Quel’amrun my dear.” Her mother said, kissing Sappho on the cheek as she approached the table, “Yes, good morning twinkle.” Her aunt said with a smile as Sappho sat. “Quel’amrun mother, aunt Halaema.” Sappho replied, cutting into a piece of fruit.
“Amalien has told us of your dream, it seems your divining powers are developing my dear, this is good news.” Halaema said, intently staring at Sappho. Sappho nodded, “That is what Elendyll says.” “It won’t be long and you’ll be a fully fledged priestess my dear!” Halaema declared with a delicate smile. At Halaema’s comment, Saelihn coughed rather obviously. “Amalien, will you please fetch the Arabellan Dry from the cellar?” She instructed. Amalien nodded and rose, quickly exiting the dining hall, leaving Sappho alone with her mother and aunt.
“Sappho,” Saelihn began, her face taking on a very serious appearance. “We have something for you to consider, something you most likely will not agree with, but our hands are tied I’m afraid, it is an affair of the house that needs our attention.” Sappho listened intently and looked between her mother and aunt, both of who shared the same, solemn look. Her aunt Halaema took over, “ Sappho dear, as you well know my three children have all left the isle to find their fortunes on faerun,” she paused as she spoke of her children, she hadn’t seen or heard from them in over a year. “And as for your siblings, well your brother is tied up in the higher ranks of the wizardry at the tower of the arcane, and your sister is in personal service to the queen, so we cannot contact her…”
Halaema stopped and looked to Saelihn, who finished their request, “So, that leaves you. We have had several propositions from house Korianthil’s leader, Hatharal,” Sappho looked quizzically at her mother, “Go on” Sappho replied, she didn’t like where this was going. Saelihn continued, “He wishes for us to display a show of solidarity after the recent setbacks that both of our houses have suffered, as a clear indication to the queen that we are stronger than ever, and ready to serve Evermeet whenever the time comes.” The recent setbacks she mentioned were not even minor impedance in Sappho’s eyes, a couple of gold elven houses had said some bad things about houses Nightstar and Kioranthil, and it had a small political upheaval but apart from that, Sappho thought it was merely juvenile gossip.
Sappho nodded, her azure eyes narrowing increasingly as her mother went on. “So what does this, “Show of solidarity” entail?” Her mother continued. “Mandas Kioranthil, the patriarch’s son, has asked for your hand in marriage, a joining of the houses in such a fashion will be a testament to the resilience of the elven nation.” Sappho’s heart sank. Mandas Kioranthil was a handsome, strong and intelligent moon elven warrior, but he was also boring, aristocratic and arrogant, qualities that Sappho detested seeing in anyone, let alone someone with so much potential. From Sappho’s point of view, Mandus was a living disappointment to the elven spirit. “Do I have a choice in this?” She asked, barely able to contain her contempt for the idea. Halaema responded, “No dear, but you must understand it is for the good of the house-” She got midway through the sentence when Sappho interrupted. “The “Good” of the house? Why couldn’t you throw a parade? Or sign a house treaty? Why do you have to sacrifice my free will for the “good of the house?” she growled, her anger clearly showing. Her mother spoke up, “Sappho, you either do this or I will bar the temple from training you any further and you will be deemed a failure in the eyes of house Nightstar.”
Sappho nodded, hot tears streaming down her angry face. “The ceremony will be in three weeks, now go and prepare your things, you will be moving to house Korianthil within the week.” Her mother said, her resolute countenance staring Sappho down. Sappho pulled out her chair and ran to her chambers. Five days later, Sappho sat in her room at midnight, the following morning she was to move to the estate of house korianthil, but the young woman’s resolve was strong, she was done with lamenting, done with the politics and aristocracy of the houses and she was most certainly done, with Evermeet. Sappho had packed her things, and as she sat with her traveling case next to her, she silently prayed to Sehanine for guidance and prayer spells for the journey ahead.
The day before she had gone to the docks of house Ahmaquissar, one of the more roguish and free-spirited houses, and arranged for transport to Waterdeep on one of their freighters. She had not given her name or house identity to the dockmaster, just one hundred cold coins and an assurance that she would not need a return pass. As the timepiece in her chamber struck the first hour of the next cycle, she picked up her case, pulled her hood over her face and robes tighter about her, and entered the corridor of house Nightstar’s noble wing. Within fifteen minutes she had slipped past the guards of the outer courtyard and made her way to a waiting carriage, which took her to the docks.
She greeted the dockmaster, who gave her a map, a runestone that would grant her access to most parts of the ship, and a thick blanket. He then showed her to her quarters, bid her a fair journey and closed the door. The dockmaster left the ship, the bell rang out and the Sappho felt the ship begin to move away from the docks. As she looked out the window to the flickering, yet fading lights of the elven isle, she thanked Sehanine, and knew she had done herself, and her goddess the biggest favour yet.
Emancipation
Note: These events are not written from inspired gameplay, they are the first installment in the ongoing chronicle of my new Live PC, Sappho Nightstar. I decided to give her some background and this seemed like a good way to do it, especially since I've put a lot of time and effort into Sappho's creation. So enjoy, fair reader, the beginning of the life and times of the Moonlight Exile.
A bound and caged woman with a silken hood obscuring her features sat alone behind gilded bars, the centerpiece of a garden party, pale skin shimmering in the moonlight, she hardly moved, save for the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. All around her odd figures, their faces hidden by golden masks seemed immersed in the festivities. A faint ticking sound softly resounded from the distance, but the party “guests” did not seem to notice, the woman in the cage stirred. Tick-tock, tick-tock the sound grew louder and still the people of the party were ignorant to its presence; talking, laughing and dancing, chatting in elven as they grouped around the refreshment tables. The woman in the cage seemed to be the only one who could hear the tick-tock in the distance. She had woken now, and from beneath the silken hood, titled her head as though listening, the ticking had become deeper, more resonant and even its pace was quickening, indeed, the ticking wasn’t ticking at all, it was the sound of approaching footsteps….
Sappho Nightstar awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed; she shook her head in an attempt to shake off the fogginess of her restless sleep. The footsteps however, didn’t fall away with the rest of her dreamings, they grew louder, and then suddenly stopped, before a loud clicking came from her ornate chamber door as it swung open. Standing in the doorway was a young elven woman; it was Amalien, Sappho’s handmaiden. With a few graceful strides Amalien had crossed the room and proceeded to open the curtains, flooding the room with bright morning sunshine.
“Quel’amrun Lady Sappho.” The handmaiden said as she strode about the room, setting out clothes and freshening flowers. “Good morning to you too Amalien, what hour is it?” Sappho asked, getting out of bed and walking over to the bath that Amalien was pouring. “It is the eighth hour of this cycle Lady, surely you are not so tired as to forget.” The handmaiden answered with a cheeky smile. Sappho shook her head, “No, not tired, but I did fall from reverie into sleep again.” A rare thing for elves, sleep was only usually necessary when great exertion had been set upon oneself. “It’s the third time this month, and I had another dream.” Sappho added as she undressed and got into the bath.
“The same one as the others?” Amalien asked, handing Sappho a sponge and some rose oil. Sappho nodded, and quickly dismissed the worried look on the handmaidens face with a short explanation. “But Elendyll says that it’s completely normal.” Amalien nodded, pointing to the now freshened bed she added, “Your robes are over on the bed lady, and there are fresh towels on the armoire, is there anything else you need?” “That will be all Amalien, thank you.” Sappho replied. And with that, the handmaiden walked to the door and said, “Oh and before I forget, your mother would like to see you for breakfast, don’t be late.” The handmaiden turned away and left, her footfalls softly echoing down the corridor.
Sappho, relaxed in the bath for a few moments, the steam cleared her head and the smell of rose filled her senses. She hoped that Elendyll was right, he should be, and he was the temple high priest after all. Sappho was an acolyte at the temple of Sehanine Moonbow in the temple district of Leuthilspar, she had been since she was old enough to learn divine magic, and use a quarterstaff. Her mother, Saelihn and her aunt, Halaema, were the twin sisters and co-rulers of house Nightstar and were both two of the most respected and revered seers in all of Evermeet.
So essentially, as soon as Sappho began to show signs of having the same divining and clerical ability as her mother, she was sent to the temple to study and practice in order to become one of Sehanine’s faithful. Elendyll, the high priest of the temple, often favored her because of her heightened abilities and her inborn charm. Sappho enjoyed her training at the temple, as her father often visited to give classes on weapon use and training, subsequently, she could use a bow like any of her woodland kin, and was not bad with her swordwork either, coupled with the fact that she was top of her class in everything from crown-wars history to divine spellcasting, more than a few people had noticed how talented she was, and how short a time it would be until she was given the title of Amandil, or priestess.
Sappho smiled at the thought of finally rising into the upper ranks of the temple, and learning the higher secrets of Sehanine and the pantheon beyond. She got out of the bath and toweled herself dry before sitting in front of her mirror and brushing her hair, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, one year out from her first century and still no more mature looking than a tenyear ago. She was beautiful, as all elves are; but her moon elven lineage gave her appearance an almost ethereal look. She had pale skin; the color of a frosted pink rose, but her hair was as dark as midnight.
She was tall and like most moon elves, shapely and lithe. Her eyes were azure blue with silver rays radiating out from her pupils, which earned her the nickname “Twinkle” that she still hadn’t taken a liking to. Sappho braided her hair around the back of her head and rose, picking up the clothes Amalien had laid out and put them on, they were white and dark green and felt as though they were no thicker than air, such is the skill of the elven weavers, Sappho tied them up, and headed out the door.
Sappho entered the corridor and followed the stairs down and out into the courtyard, the sunshine was warm on her skin, and a light breeze whipped around the courtyard, carrying with it the smell of freshly cut grass. It was a beautiful day, typical Leuthilspar weather. She crossed the courtyard and entered the large stone doorway of the great hall. The guards opened the door and Sappho proceeded down the hall, past the large dining tables for the patrons of house Nightstar, to the table at the head of the hall, at which her mother, her aunt and her handmaiden were seated. “Quel’amrun my dear.” Her mother said, kissing Sappho on the cheek as she approached the table, “Yes, good morning twinkle.” Her aunt said with a smile as Sappho sat. “Quel’amrun mother, aunt Halaema.” Sappho replied, cutting into a piece of fruit.
“Amalien has told us of your dream, it seems your divining powers are developing my dear, this is good news.” Halaema said, intently staring at Sappho. Sappho nodded, “That is what Elendyll says.” “It won’t be long and you’ll be a fully fledged priestess my dear!” Halaema declared with a delicate smile. At Halaema’s comment, Saelihn coughed rather obviously. “Amalien, will you please fetch the Arabellan Dry from the cellar?” She instructed. Amalien nodded and rose, quickly exiting the dining hall, leaving Sappho alone with her mother and aunt.
“Sappho,” Saelihn began, her face taking on a very serious appearance. “We have something for you to consider, something you most likely will not agree with, but our hands are tied I’m afraid, it is an affair of the house that needs our attention.” Sappho listened intently and looked between her mother and aunt, both of who shared the same, solemn look. Her aunt Halaema took over, “ Sappho dear, as you well know my three children have all left the isle to find their fortunes on faerun,” she paused as she spoke of her children, she hadn’t seen or heard from them in over a year. “And as for your siblings, well your brother is tied up in the higher ranks of the wizardry at the tower of the arcane, and your sister is in personal service to the queen, so we cannot contact her…”
Halaema stopped and looked to Saelihn, who finished their request, “So, that leaves you. We have had several propositions from house Korianthil’s leader, Hatharal,” Sappho looked quizzically at her mother, “Go on” Sappho replied, she didn’t like where this was going. Saelihn continued, “He wishes for us to display a show of solidarity after the recent setbacks that both of our houses have suffered, as a clear indication to the queen that we are stronger than ever, and ready to serve Evermeet whenever the time comes.” The recent setbacks she mentioned were not even minor impedance in Sappho’s eyes, a couple of gold elven houses had said some bad things about houses Nightstar and Kioranthil, and it had a small political upheaval but apart from that, Sappho thought it was merely juvenile gossip.
Sappho nodded, her azure eyes narrowing increasingly as her mother went on. “So what does this, “Show of solidarity” entail?” Her mother continued. “Mandas Kioranthil, the patriarch’s son, has asked for your hand in marriage, a joining of the houses in such a fashion will be a testament to the resilience of the elven nation.” Sappho’s heart sank. Mandas Kioranthil was a handsome, strong and intelligent moon elven warrior, but he was also boring, aristocratic and arrogant, qualities that Sappho detested seeing in anyone, let alone someone with so much potential. From Sappho’s point of view, Mandus was a living disappointment to the elven spirit. “Do I have a choice in this?” She asked, barely able to contain her contempt for the idea. Halaema responded, “No dear, but you must understand it is for the good of the house-” She got midway through the sentence when Sappho interrupted. “The “Good” of the house? Why couldn’t you throw a parade? Or sign a house treaty? Why do you have to sacrifice my free will for the “good of the house?” she growled, her anger clearly showing. Her mother spoke up, “Sappho, you either do this or I will bar the temple from training you any further and you will be deemed a failure in the eyes of house Nightstar.”
Sappho nodded, hot tears streaming down her angry face. “The ceremony will be in three weeks, now go and prepare your things, you will be moving to house Korianthil within the week.” Her mother said, her resolute countenance staring Sappho down. Sappho pulled out her chair and ran to her chambers. Five days later, Sappho sat in her room at midnight, the following morning she was to move to the estate of house korianthil, but the young woman’s resolve was strong, she was done with lamenting, done with the politics and aristocracy of the houses and she was most certainly done, with Evermeet. Sappho had packed her things, and as she sat with her traveling case next to her, she silently prayed to Sehanine for guidance and prayer spells for the journey ahead.
The day before she had gone to the docks of house Ahmaquissar, one of the more roguish and free-spirited houses, and arranged for transport to Waterdeep on one of their freighters. She had not given her name or house identity to the dockmaster, just one hundred cold coins and an assurance that she would not need a return pass. As the timepiece in her chamber struck the first hour of the next cycle, she picked up her case, pulled her hood over her face and robes tighter about her, and entered the corridor of house Nightstar’s noble wing. Within fifteen minutes she had slipped past the guards of the outer courtyard and made her way to a waiting carriage, which took her to the docks.
She greeted the dockmaster, who gave her a map, a runestone that would grant her access to most parts of the ship, and a thick blanket. He then showed her to her quarters, bid her a fair journey and closed the door. The dockmaster left the ship, the bell rang out and the Sappho felt the ship begin to move away from the docks. As she looked out the window to the flickering, yet fading lights of the elven isle, she thanked Sehanine, and knew she had done herself, and her goddess the biggest favour yet.