Jastima

The lands were threatened by war, as small uprisings began between the elves and humans. A small disagreement in town over the price of goods sparked racial problems, adding new fuel to an old fire. At this time, the Elven-Human war was ancient, but still kept in the back of the mind. Many of those who refused to be involved were of either race, but friendly with the other. Measures were taken to isolate the incidents, but everyone knew that something new would happen eventually...

A small child was born on the 23rd day of the 7th month of Moliko the Balance in the year of the Iron Toad, 354 years after the victory of Lanival the Redeemer, in a vast expanse of land, delivered directly into her fathers arms. The baby was surprisingly quiet, but alert, her shining dark eyes taking in sights and sounds she'd never experienced. A small tuft of hair black as midnight curled upon her forehead, and she closed her eyes and slept as she was wrapped in the warmth of a swaddling cloth and her mother's arms.

Jastima Lautari was born under the pale light of Katamba, accented by starlight glittering from a cloudless sky. Prayers to Phelim and Dergati were spoken, as a soft silken blanket was wrapped around the child, carefully stitched with the image of a panther, nightingale, and shrike. Her mother and father smiled and embraced each other, gazing silently at their new child as she slept peacefully.

Sharess Mestere was a common woman but carried herself like royalty. She was a dignified gypsy lass, her eyes still wandering longingly to the open road, but the soft sounds of a child in her arms kept her from a new chance at the road. She did many things to keep herself occupied, mostly repairing instruments for whatever coin the patron thought spoke for a job well done, as well as having learned a few trade-skills, such as simple herbal remedies, cooking, and tailoring clothes.

Her husband, Nicolae Lautari, kept close watch on his family, his hunter's eyes scanning the green fields for friend or foe. He lived his life as a Ranger, providing food for his family, as well as cultivating small crops, raising animals, and training horses for work and pleasure. He wore a simple longsword and a longbow carved from mistwood wherever he went, and kept both close to his bedside as he half-slept, always alert.

Jastima was five now, and Sharess paid attention to her daughter's voice, pure and sweet, as it echoed across the fields. Sharess was trained in the ways of the Bard, having lived life on the road as a performer and songstress. Sharess taught her daughter the basics of stage performance and improvisation, as well as vocal skills and honing her musical talent for stringed instruments.

For many years, Sharess and Jastima sat by the fire, practicing their music, as Nicolae smoked his pipe, the tobacco always light with the scent of vanilla, laughing along with the rest of them. Jastima would turn thirteen soon, and her parents wanted to do something special for her.

The morning of her birthday, Nicolae lead Jastima to the expansive barn across the fields. He told her to wait outside as he strode indoors, whistling merrily to himself. Upon coming back out, he lead with him a stunning dark bay mare, eighteen-hands and incredibly gentle. Jastima spend most of the day with her father in the corral, learning tricks on horseback and the basics of mounted combat. Nicolae smiled as he realized teaching his daughter how to handle herself against hostile creatures had paid off.

Upon returning home, Sharess had cooked the family a grand meal. A luscious raspberry-frosted cake graced the table, Jastima's favorite, and one of Sharess' culinary masterpieces. Upon sharing the cake, they took their usual spots near the fireplace and Sharess told stories and sang songs about gypsy life.

The next day, Nicolae received a summons to serve in the Therengian guard for a time, as rumors of a struggle were whispered on the wind. Sharess and Jastima stood in the doorway, hand in hand, as they sadly watched Nicolae's form fade into the distance.

They awaited his return, but even as the war was over, Nicolae had not returned. A messenger had been sent to the little family, delivering the terrible news of his passing and a few of his items. Sharess was stricken with grief to learn he had been ambushed by the enemy and fought to the death, horribly outnumbered. He took many down with him, but his strength started to wane and they overcame him. Handing over her father's longbow, Jastima took it from the messenger and slung it over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with tears. Tipping his helm, the messenger left the widow Sharess and her daughter behind as the night fell heavily.

Two years later, Sharess, still stricken over the death of her husband, contracted a serious illness and the gypsy woman was bedridden. Jastima was now fifteen-and-a-half, and took care of her mother as best she could. Tending for the farm and horses, Jastima had little time to practice her singing or instruments, and the thought of her father brought back horrible feelings. Jastima watched her mother grow weaker and weaker, and finally, in the mid-winter, Sharess' spirit gave out.

Jastima, now sixteeen and alone, sold most of the horses and part of the land, shutting up the stables and barring the doors, but keeping the beautiful dark bay horse and home for herself, agreeing to open it again when she had her own family. She set off for the bustle of the Crossing, and eventually joined up with the Bard guild, which became her home for three years after.

Almost twenty, Jastima made her way back north into Therengia. Reclaiming her home and part of the farmland, she is now in the process of restoring the old farmhouse between guild matters, province matters, and her own practices.

Last Revised: 01/05/04