Nuark


My mother always told me that I was born late at night. About 52 years ago, late in the evening of the 24th day of Shorka in the 325th year After the Victory of Lanival. A child of the night, she always said to me, that I was. Why then, did I end up how I did?

332 years after the Victory, I was playing with my best friend. As boys often do. I, dreaming of becoming a Steel Dove, like my mother, strong, full of the Inner Fire. We had been running along the rooftops in the more dilapidated southern districts of the
Crystal City, Shard. Such fools children can be. Such delightful fools.

My friend, the addle brained idiot he was back then, misstepped as he was running. Slipped and fell off one of the roofs along Sapphire Street. It must have been raining the night before, and he was lucky, landed legs first into a puddle. He was not so lucky, in that moments later, when I reached him from the rooftops, and to this day, I still do not know how I got down so quickly; I found him with a broken leg. We were both frightened. I reached out to console him, his cries of pain quickly bringing folk from the nearby houses and shops.

Suddenly, though. He had stopped crying. A feeling like fire, washed with a winter's chill shot through my leg, and I was the one screaming. His pain had become mine, and my Empathic Gift had awoke. The city was spinning about me as everything went dark in the moments following.

I awoke some time later in the Infirmary in Stormwill Tower. K'miriel Lystrandoniel standing over me, a small smile upon her face. My parents were behind her. Looks of Stoicism, reproach, and anger, mixed with fear played plainly upon their chiseled Elothean faces, as K'miriel turned to them. "An Empath, Nuark is." She said to them, "No more childish games for him, if this gift is to be managed without causing more lasting harm, he must begin his training immediately!"

"Training?" I thought, "But... I want to be like my mother!" The most traumatic thought for a young boy, is that he will never get to see his deepest dreams fulfilled. But for years, train is exactly what I did. I trained both in Stormwill tower, and the Great Tower. Under K'miriel and Edenlaen. K'miriel had thought my Empathic Gift one of the strongest she had seen. Though, my training was not to last forever, time waxes on, and boys grow into men.

In my early twenties, War broke out in Kemoria, as the Gorbesh began their march northward. My parents, fearful for me, and not wanting me involved sent me to the Asemath Academy in Crossing to complete my education. My parents, though were both strong soldiers, and wanted to fight.

In my last season at the Academy, came the news that the War was over, and that my parents were dead. They died finding ways to sneak into the Gorbesh Fortress near Shard, in a final effort to get a toe-hold against them as the Gorbesh entered Crossing for the last time. I formally joined the Empath guild soon after, though I felt crushed and defeated.

Advancing quickly in the guild, I returned to Ilithi and Shard, and quickly began practicing in the Infirmary in which I was born, and raised for most of my young life. At the same time, I was re-learning the joy of hunting Trolls to the south of the city, as I had as a lad with my parents. I quickly learned my role as a Battle Empath.

Shard had reached a rennaisance about this time. I had many friends, and I was quite happy for a long time. But time waxes on, and young men, grow into adults. I married, and adopted a daughter. Soon after, though, hardship hit, and my wife seemed to feel that other pursuits were more suited to her, and she left. I joined with Seihjin in the Li Timbre Mir as rumbling of Shadow overtook Kemoria. War had come again.

In truth, I am a peaceful man, and have always lived by the letter of my oath to the Verdant Lily, but when my home is threatened, I cannot sit idle. I was involved with more than one defeat of Sorrow, and that war came to a close the following year.

After Sorrow's War, when I returned home, tired, broken, I decided upon a break. But, I came out of retirement not too long ago, as more rumbling came of war. I joined the Infantry as aide to Daxlynn. The 'Outcasts' came, though I refuse to call them that. The sand pitdwellers, is what they are. They swept over my home like a fury. Killed my beloved Ferdahl. Left me with a true hatred for the first time in my life.
Now, I struggle to keep hope alive for Ilithi, and to teach those whom are perhaps too young to remember a truly free Shard, what the city was, and whom the compassionate, kind, and wonderful Ferdahl was as well


Last Revised: 08/25/04