Invira
Name: Invira
Nicknames/Titles: 'Angel', Sentinel, Cerberus
Age: 22
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 158lbs.
Occupation: Treasure Hunter, Bodyguard, Guide, Heretic, Murderer, Defender, Gladiator
Story done, sliders coming....eventually.
The Temple of the Bloody Shield
She was born into a small village near a lone mountain. We were at the edge of the forests that sprawled out from the base of that mountain, and because of the terrain, the many travelers always stopped by to see if the monsters had managed to overrun us yet. They never did though. Those who came always looked so surprised when they were told that there were no monsters in the surroundings, and those monsters that travelled, even bandits, all seemed to stay away from us. It made us quite the peaceful little village, though that was only on the surface. For some reason, a legend persisted in the town. Of a child born with deathly skin and eyes of blood. This child had grown up knowing only unkindness from the village, and on the day she was meant to come of age, she ran off into the forest, where monsters roamed. It was assumed that she had been killed, and most people thought that it was a blessing to them. Back then, there was at least one attack a week, usually more, that would claim the life of a few villagers. Only when there were adventurers in the town could all of the people be expected to survive. Suddenly, about six years after the child disappeared, all the attacks stopped. The noises the monsters made each night were conspicuously gone. A week of this persisted, and everyone was on edge, waiting for some great beast to descend and slaughter everyone. In a way, they were almost right. Standing in the square was the pale-skinned child from several years past. Some attempted to throw rocks at her, but she merely caught them before they hit her. The adventurers who were in town were missing from their beds, and all their belongings were gone, but since nobody had seen them leave, strongly evil magic was suspected.
When most of the town had finally gathered around her, she looked out at them with her piercing crimson eyes, and spoke thus. "I have saved you from the beasts. The infestation that has plagued you is no more, but only so long as I continue taking care of them for you. So, in exchange for this service, I lay a geis on anyone who lives in this village. Among the newborn children will come those who have the same traits as myself. They are the chosen. It is their destiny to join me on the day they come of age. Perform no ceremony on them, nor pray for them. They will advance into this job because you will hate them, despise them for what they are, but take heed. If anyone slays one of my children, I will make that person suffer so horrible a death that it will be remembered for centuries. If you do not wish your children to be marked, then leave this village, for that will be your only safety against this sign. Farewell." And with a spin, she vanished on the spot, leaving everyone to stare in shock. The townsfolk deliberated among themselves, discussed it back and forth. Some took their leave right away, preferring not to get involved with things that they did not understand. Others took a stand, saying that it was their village, their land, and nobody was going to force them away from it, no matter what the threat was. In the end, most of the populace chose to leave, but those who remained continued to keep the town in order, inviting those who passed by to join, though they always warned about the curse that had been placed on the village. Some laughed, some took the offer, some went into the forest to find the so called witch, but none ever returned.
As sure as the sun rises in the East, the words of the Guardian came true. One in every three children had the same colors as the dark haired woman who had laid down the curse on the village. And in this is where my own story begins. The tale continues on for fifteen generations, but true to her word, the few who killed the children, weather they were adult or child, male or female, adventurer or villager, their corpse always appeared in the middle of the town, completely shredded and desecrated, most not recognizable as anything but a scorched pile of rotting meat. Admittedly, I learned of this later, but that is not the tale I am here to tell. Put simply, the words of that woman continued to come true, even though most assumed her to be dead. For the sake of my skin and eyes, everyone hated me. Feared me. Calling me 'cursed' and 'bastard child' and the like. I rarely paid attention to the attempted insults. I found myself oddly at peace with their response. I am not sure if it was merely resignation in the face of such hatred, or if I simply didn't care. I was too young to take as much note of my mental well-being, so I suppose that I became with drawn under the constant abuse inherent in their nature. Since I was the only child with the 'cursed' features, everyone's hatred fell on me. The people grew further irritated by the fact that they couldn't seem to get to me. While may had cried, some had grown angry, or even just begun to glare at them, I did none of that. I simply held my calm and continued on with the tasks that I was given, which were always made more difficult by the so-called 'normal' children in the area, who sought to delay me or tire me, so that I would fail and the adults would be given an excuse to beat me. I endured though, because my dreams gave me hope for the future.
It was a couple years before I came of age when the mob formed, the people gathering together with torches and axes and pitchforks and swords. They were going to drag me out and burn me at the stake like they would any witch that they found, though I had never done anything to give them that indication. I didn't struggle when I was picked up, nor when I was being tied to the post. The wood was already gathered, but before they could even think of lighting it, and me, on fire, the woman reappeared, staring out at them coldly. It was then that she spoke, her tone like ice in the blood of those who were close enough to hear her. "I warned you against the harming of my children, and yet here I find all of you, waiting in eager anticipation for a burnt offering of her? Did you not notice that she was the only one here? She was to be the last of my children that would ever appear to you. Two years from now, when she came to me, I was to tell you that the geis was lifted, and that your village would be forevermore protected by myself and my family, but you have conspired against my most awaited daughter. For that, I shall give you the scent of burning flesh that you so desire." Everyone turned to run, but the moment they did, a fiery circle enfolded the square, trapping all of them inside it's boundaries, even as it spread through the rest of the town with a speed that was wholly unnatural. While everyone else was distracted, she quickly sliced through my bonds and took my hand, guiding me forward to stand directly in front of her as she peered out at the crowd. "Enjoy the fate that you all chose for yourselves." Everything went black after that, even as we traveled the great distance to her home, set in a temple that had been carved out of the base of the mountain itself.
When I could see again, I was standing in a well decorated room, a plush carpeting beneath my feet, and my savior sitting in front of me on the other side of the desk. I looked straight up into her eyes, and gave her a slight smile. "Thank you. I was afraid for a moment that you wouldn't come for me." She looked surprised by this, but only for a moment, so I couldn't have been sure weather or not I imagined it. She returned my smile as she stood, moving around the desk to take me by the shoulder and guide me out of the room. "You are quite welcome, my daughter." She stated simply, our walk taking us through the vast halls of my new home. The construction of this place was simply amazing, with murals carved wholly from an entire section of wall comprised of varied gems, that would seem to come to life when the sun was directly over the mountain. Even when the sun wasn't in the right position, I was surprised to notice that there never seemed to be any lack of light in any of the rooms, save only the bedrooms that we passed along our grand tour. One hallway I did notice though, seemed to have light shimmering out from the walls itself, and my guardian smiled kindly at my fascination. "That is the passageway to the most holy of relics, which you, in time, shall guard. Come though. I believe it is time that someone gave you more than scraps to eat."
Our grand tour ended inside the dining hall, that was filled to teeming with a large amount of people, all of whom had the same eyes and skin as I did. I gave my guardian a curious look, and she merely smiled at me. "These are your brothers and sisters, because all of you are my children. I brought you here to safeguard that which is most precious to the world. When the time comes, you will know what to do. For now, get something to eat, and one of your siblings will show you to your quarters. I will see you on the morrow." She then strode from the room, leaving me to look for a seat myself. It took me a moment to notice the peculiarity, but everyone in the room had stopped and turned to look at her the moment she entered, and continued to watch until she was out of sight. Most of them then looked at me, and I thought I recognized some of those looks. Fear. Hatred. Jealousy. This was mostly among the older people though, and a group who looked closer to my age quickly beckoned me over, giving me a seat and presenting me with a tray already loaded with wholesome food. More than I had ever been given in the village, even in three days. That was the most impressive thing to me yet, and I dug in ravenously, forgetting my manners for a few moments until my tray was meticulously clean. I sighed contentedly, and then blushed when I realized that those nearest to her were grinning quite widely, though not unkindly.
We stayed and chatted for a bit, the others a bit saddened to hear of the ultimate fate of the village, for which I apologized, thinking that it was somehow my fault that they had been burned. The others quickly reassured me though, informing me that the lady we served was a far better mother than their own mothers had often been, and nobody seemed to be discontent, though the fact that she had gone herself to pick me up instead of sending someone else surprised them, which was the explanation for the looks I had received earlier. I decided at that point that it would be best if I got some rest, and one of my new brothers, Marnen by name, guided me to my room, bowed, and went back to rejoin the others, while I went in. The room was spacious, and the bed was exceptionally soft, though far too much so for my taste. After tossing and turning for a time, I merely took the sheet from the bed, wrapped it around myself like a cloak, and settled on the floor under the bed, which was far more comfortable to me than the yielding material that I had been given. Even though it would have been the first time I'd been allowed an actual bed that I could recall, I didn't think that I'd ever actually be comfortable enough on one to be able to sleep.
The next several years sort of blur together for me, so I'll do my best to abbreviate them. I rose at what was generally assumed to be sun-up, and had an hour to be cleansed, dressed, and fed. After that, we began basic physical stretches for half an hour, followed by half an hour of running. Once we were suitably warmed up, we were given a brief water break at a stream, and then put to work on training with wooden weapons. In my case, there was also an assessment for aptitude with each type of weapon, and it was found that I favored one that held a longer reach. After several years of this training, it began to focus more on the actual wielding of the weapons, rather than on increasing physical speed, strength, and dexterity. Around the time I reached the age of sixteen, I was finally promoted to my full Defender status, and added to the rotation. Since our Mother would warn us if there were any intruders in the grounds, most of us spent our time lightly sparring and chatting away the hours. Because we had so much time to converse, everyone felt as though there were really in a family, despite our vastly differing ages. It was only when I turned twenty that I began to wonder if something wasn't wrong. Nobody had seen our mother since that day she'd gone out to save me from the village, and while everyone else seemed to accept it as normal, I wasn't convinced. What had happened to her?
I waited until it was officially my 21st birthday to actually make my way down the hall to her door, and after a moment of indecision, I knocked. I waited several minutes with no response, before I tugged on the door. I was a bit surprised to find that it wasn't locked, but then, we were a family. What was the use of a lock to people like us? Inside it was darkened, but not completely black, which confused me, since the room was supposed to be perpetually lighted. It was then that I saw the dark robed figure, idly cleaning a dagger and leaning against the desk that I had first seen on my arrival all those years ago. Now though, unarmed, I faced my first real opponent. He seemed to regard me with idle curiosity for a brief time, before tossing the cloth back behind himself, and charging me. The room was large enough that I had some time to think, and praying that this would make a lot of noise, I reached over, caught the door with both hands, and ripped it from it's hinges to swing it towards my opponent. He dodged out of the way naturally, but now he was a bit more wary of me, as I wasn't facing him barehanded. Shifting part of my grip to the handle, I made a deliberately slow swing, using the broad side of the door to make it appear as though there was too much resistance or weight for me to overcome. I was lucky enough that he took the bait, as I reversed the angle of the door and reversed the direction of my swing, striking him before he could react. The impact was harder than I would have liked, so I think I might have killed him, but at that moment, several of my fellow Guardians arrived on the scene, to find me disheveled, staring down in contempt at my defeated opponent.
I wasted no time in explaining things to them, tossing the door to one side as I leaned down to remove the mask he wore, and what I saw startled me. It was Marnen, the boy who had helped me out all those years ago. He was dressed from head to foot in unfamiliar garments, and he carried none of our symbols with him. He had betrayed us. I growled a little, and glanced back towards the desk, wondering just what he was doing, and there, leaned back in the chair, was our Mother. I froze the moment I saw her, her throat having been slit wide open. It was clear from the amount of blood that had spilled down her front that she had been dead for some time. Turning, I drove my fist into the large bookshelf that stood beside the door, making it shudder while a few books fell from the upper shelves. Remembering what she had told me, I looked at my siblings. "Prepare the defenses, all members on alert, and we'll be searching all the rooms. Anyone of our siblings who is found with a symbol that does not belong to the order will need to give an account of himself, and failing that, I will execute them in combat." I stated, striding from the room to get dressed in my uniform. I would not let this delay my Mother's work, nor hinder the designs she held for the artifact that was our ward. Our search revealed two others who had betrayed the faith, and we got no information out of either of them. I fought them, and by merit of trial by combat, they were found guilty.
Once they had been killed, we took the bodies of our three siblings out, and buried them under the remains of the town that they had apparently loved. Our mother, we took into the sacred chamber, and placed in a sarcophagus, which we sealed with a small amount of blood from each remaining member. The ritual was powerful, and it ensure that nobody who was not of the faith would ever be able to violate her tomb or to touch her remains, no matter the means they attempted to use. It was after the ceremony, as we turned to leave, that I noticed something peculiar. There was dust on the chest that contained our relic. Looking about, I was certain that there was no dust on anything else in the room, despite the fact that it was also unused. I called a halt to the leaving students, and advanced on the chest, before opening it. It was empty. This was not the chest we had been guarding for so long, that had repelled dust and weapons, according to what we had been taught. A search of the citadel revealed that the chest was nowhere to be found, and that could only mean one thing. The three who had conspired against us had slain our mother, left him behind as a distraction, replaced the chest while everyone was busy, but when? It could not have been during the inspection, because nobody was allowed to leave with anything but their clothing, and the chest itself was missing. Not a small enough object to be smuggled out unseen. It could have definitely been during the exodus to bury our former siblings, which frightened me, since leaving then would give them a several hour head start.
Since we had just performed another search, everyone one of us was certain that the chest was completely missing, so I made a quick calling of those who were on hand, to determine if anyone was absent, and wasn't that surprised to find everyone still here. Sighing at the wasted time, I gave one order to my assembled siblings. "The thief has gotten away with the object that our Mother charged us with protecting, so we are going to change our duties for a time. Rather than remain in isolation and in failure, we will advance out into the world to seek our stolen treasure. We shall scatter like dust to the winds, going out in smaller groups, and seeking the object. Should one of us manage to locate it, spread the word among those you believe you can trust, to pass the location on to us. When you feel there are enough of us gathered, it will be your duty to charge whatever foul minion has taken the scroll, attempt to determine where he got it from, and then slay him. We will track this trail to it's source, and purge the world of the interlopers who hamper our progress towards destiny. Go well, and may Mother guide our steps." We gathered our equipment, packed some supplies, and sealed the entrance to our mountain home, with a ward that would allow only the person who held the chest to be able to open the door. And then we scattered. I have been wandering alone ever since, seeking to find those who had forsaken the path, and ensure that they would never again hamper our progress.