Motarra

I have no memory of my mother.

Father told me once a partial tale of how she died.

I was but an infant, not yet 3 full moons old when mother journeyed to Horse Clan with me. Mother loved horses, and raised several. She was on her way to purchase more supplies when The Dragon Priestess' that live in the area of the Gilen Otso Steppes, near Horse Clan, killed her. So father said. Noone really knows, they never found her body. Her horse, Lith, a lovely deep dappled grey arrived at the homestead carrying me, haphazardly bound to the saddle with bailing twine. Father said there was blood on my swaddling blanket.

My earliest memories are of father. He raised me the only way he knew how, as a son, and not a daughter. I was trapping and learning herb lore before I could walk practically. For a nurse wife I had Lith and fathers old wolf, Tarz. I can not help but smile when I remember how Lith would 'herd' me about the place, and I swear she would scold me for things I did wrong. Good ol'Tarz would step in and lead me away from the lovely dabble grey when she would start the scoulding. What wonderful memories, Lith herding me about the yard, nickering her little scolds while father would lean against the old split limb fence and laugh so loudly, then, Tarz troting up and placing himself between the old grey and me, leading me off to roll about the cool green grass with him.

But alas, I have no memory of my mother.

By the time I was in my twelfth year I was hunting and trapping alone, helping father make ends meet. I was very fair with the bow, and down right lethal with any light, sharp blade.

My life became dark during this year. One crisp fall evening I was out in the back by the curing shed, scraping the days hides and skins to set salt to. I remember that I noticed the evening become very, very quiet. No bird or frog sang, not a wisp of breeze stirred the branches of trees, nothing, not a sound. I stopped my work to go look for father. I had an uneasy feeling and wanted to find him. I knew he was off to the east, hunting some antelope, so I saddled up Pickka, Liths' filly that father helped me train and gave to me. I did not get very far from the house, perhaps 20 roisen away when I heard the sounds of combat. I turned Pickka toward the sound and urged her on to a run. No sooner had I broke into a small clearing when Pickka screamed as only a horse can do, and went out from under me. When I drew myself off of the ground and looked, I saw poor Pickka with a large black feather and shafted arrow buried savagely into her chest. Through my own screams of anger and grief I heard my father's cries to me. He was running towards me on ol'Lith. Large, dark men where close behind him swords drawn and bow's notched.

I could see blood running down my father's chest and legs. He practically fell off of Lith before me, but he was strong and agile and landed on his feet like a sleek cat. He was screaming at me to do something but I could not understand, I was too terrified; my father was bleeding horribly and I was terrified. He was pulling at me and lifting me, and before I knew it, I was seated on Lith. I remember looking down at father, he smiled to me, told me he was proud to have me as a daughter. He told me to keep my mother alive and fly. I did not understand what he meant by that at the time. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and slapped Lith on the rump; once again that beautiful dabble grey carried me swiftly away from death's clutches.

Once again, my parent gave their life for mine.

I shall always remember that, and feel no pity for when I find the murderers of my father.

Father told me to fly and I did. Lith, old as she was, was swift as a bird on wing. For 2 andu we ran. Stopping only to let Lith rest, and graze and drink. I had no need for food and very little desire for water. Lith forced me to drink, the ol'nag, by pushing me into a small stream. I decided to go back, to see if father made it. So Lith and I headed back home.

I found him. Not far into the woods near the clearing where he placed me on my mothers horse and gave his life up. A stones throw away I found Tarz. Many arrows lodged into his old grey body, many of the large, dark men laying around the old faithful friend. Lith and I managed to get father and Tarz home, and there I laid them to rest, and piled many, many stones atop their graves.

I stayed around the home, for a few years. But I started to yearn to see some other place that held no bad memories, so I left. Hunting and trapping for coin along the way, I made my way to a city far north of my Elothean homeland, called Crossing. There I took up the trade of Ranger, way you ask? Simple. My father had trained me to be a ranger from the day Lith carried my blood soaked swaddled form home.

I had many adventures with Lith, and soon she bore another foal, a little colt, dark, almost blood colored. Lith became too old a few years back and passed away, but I have her colt to remember her by. I named him Sibu Suur, for he is my dark cloud. He is a small, fast little liver chestnut, a friend.

Now a happy chance meeting of someone I hold dear to my heart enters my tale. I was bound for Langenfirth one fall morning. I had decided I needed to leave the area of Crossings and set out to find a new home in Therengia. One this trip, whilst on the barge across the lake, I meet a young S'Kra Moon Mage by the name of Kiluminati. I felt almost instantly that we were destined to be friends. And over time he is become a brother to me. And to all I say, "Here is my brother Kiluminati" and in my heart I know it to be true, even if the same blood does not flow through our veins. He is dear to me, and some of my best times are spent with him. We can cause create a lot of trouble when together. We can create a great time.

But alas, as all grown folk do, we pursue our needs. And the needs of the Ranger and the needs of the Moon Mage differ. So, in miles we are apart, but in spirit we still smile together. And every so often, more often then so, we run across each other, and enjoy our little family.

But mostly I wonder Elanthia alone, seeking the hunt, and seeking the ones who took my childhood away. Training for the day I can confront the Priestess' and explain to them, how much it hurts a small girl child to grow up without her mother. I say alone, but I truly am not. I have Sibu Suur, and my wolf, Vuleht, The three of us sometimes go back to my home. For I have come to realize that, that place does not only hold bad memories for me,it holds and shelters all of my fond memories as well. And there are times when I need to see my father leaning up against the fence laughing loudly, as Lith herds me about and scolds me.

I have a good life. I have no regrets save one:

I have no memory of my mother.

But I understand what my father meant when he said keep my mother alive. For as long as I live, she shall always live. And as long as I live, he shall always live.

You now have my tale.

Motarra Iidoon, House of the Guilded Longleaf, Elothean Ranger.

Last Revised: 06/27/03