Naamah's profile

[Eisaac]

This is the story of Naamah...

Apearacnce:

Naamah is a young elven woman. Strange, but elven. A human looking at her she would seem like a 25 year old woman, since her build is a bit large for an elf and also her skin tone is somewhat closer to the one of humans. Only a closer look, or a lucky glange under the hood covering her head would reveal her true elven heritage. An elf would also be able to say that she has passed at least a century of life, but even elves cannot know exactly the age of another.

Naamah is almost 6 feet tall. Very tall for a female elf. She may seem a bit large in size for an elf, yet not full as humans tend to be. Another identifier, is hair. Rather, lack of it. Naamah has no hair whatsoever. Nothing.

Another remarkable yet elusive thing is a touch of fiery red tint in her eyes. Only a few watched it but when angered, one could swear he saw red fires in her eyes...

Behaviour:

Naamah is a scholar. She spent years and years by the light of a candle. The candle was almost decoration for the elven sight but the humans by her side needed it. As in contrast to her different appearance, most scholar stereotypes would apply here. Smart and witty but quiet and distant, she studies her arts and works to perfect her proficiency with the pen (Inscribe), the book (Magery) and the Mortar and the pestle (Alchemy).

More on her behaviour and attitude will be explained in the following...

History:

Someone creeping and looking into the old magical book tucked away under the folds of her elven robe would find Naamah's diary. At a first glance it looks like an old and thin scrapbook, but with a simple, yet mysterious word of power, magical papers appear, telling the Story of Naamah...

And the story, or at least parts of it, goes like this:

At last, I have waited long years to write this, so I will not humiliate myself to me by mistakes of the young.

I do not know my parents, I know nothing of my ancestors. I was found, as an infant, by Brother Ruben from the order of the Sacred Waters, a place, a monastery which existed somewhere unders the swamps of Papua. Brother Ruben was a human, most dear to me. He was but a young man and already a leader among his people and believers. He found me, or so he told me, in his arms... I do not know how or why but he said, and I quote: "it was a the most peculiar time in all my life, I had walked the dark road from our temple to the outside world and although it was just after my waking time I had a strange desire to sleep. I can swear that I only put my back to the wall and the next thing I remember is that I awoke, lying on the ground to the sound of a crying baby. I was in the same spot, yet my pack was spilled all around, I was covered in my new overcoat, which looked as it was dirty from several days of travel. Something was heavy under it. That thing cried and moved. That was how you came to me. An elf from the underdark, A spark of life, that is what you are to me".

When I was found, I was wrapped with a black blanket, on it was a single word, written with a magical thread, which looks like fire burning. The word said "Naamah" so that is where my name came from.

(A lot is said here about growing up, but a hundred years of history could be a bit boring... yet maybe I will add some more here)

Meanwhile Brohter Ruben passed away. I was 74 at the time and he was already very old and sick for years, his body was burnt and spread over the waters of the swamps. No one but me cried for him, at least not aloud, as it was forbidden by the strict rules of the monastery. I cried a whole week as this was my father, my mother and my dearest of friends. He had not the heart nor desire to discipline me, as my love for him and to my arts was almost as strict as the rules of the monastery.

Since the day of Ruben's death, I started to hear strange stories, stories about myself and about demons. I did not believe any of this. I spoke to no one, and no one spoke to me, I was almost an outcast at my home and I didn't know exactly the reason why. I was left alone and so I accepted it, as it gave me the quiet for the study of my arts. But something else changed, I don't know exactly what it was but without the guidence of Ruben something else was amiss. The monastery itself seemed to die slowly. Leaks started and the swamp above started to win over.

It took a long time, but one day I awoke to the sound of cracking. I woke and walked around. All were as they used to be, they sat oblivious to the sound, studied, read, ate and drank. I wandered for almost an hour. The sounds grew louder but only I heard them. Then, I heard a loud crack and saw a bright red portal open beside me. And, as a red hand reached through the portal and pulled me, I saw the ceiling collapse...

I was shocked. I didn't have time to react and I heard familiar words with a foreign accent, a bright blue portal appeared and I was shoved through it.

I fell through and bumped into someone. It was... I focused a bit... looked around... books... tables... lighted windows? who did I bump into? he lookes like a librarian?

It took no time to understand that I was in Britain great library. Whoever saved me knew what was best for me. I was given food and shelter for the stories and arcane knowledge I had from the monastery. But, it took me a year to gather my courage and go out. I wandered around almost aimlessly which was wierd enough! I spent some time around Britain and some time in a place called "Haven". It had some quiet parts. I liked it. So, I stayed a while.

One day, I was approaced by a strange lady. She was mute and blind and almost fooled me to be helpless. HA! what a mistake! This woman surprised me quite a bit! Her name is Aoshi. We spoke for some time, at least I spoke and she wrote back in a notebook. I think the quiet with only the sound of the pen on the parchment of the notebook kept me open and attuned to this interesting woman. very interesting. Remarkable. She told me stories about hunting with friends and about the complexity of locks, which was fasicating to me, and we spoke of our our mutual affection to the power of the self, magery. I had one friend, true friend in all my life. He was long gone and I still feel young. I take interest in this woman, and her friends. I hope this will be a new way for me a new start to the rest of my life.

[Gabriel]

good story