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| Chasiloda Aluskiir |
| She had been born into a rather happy family; no family was ever perfect, of course, but in her childhood she had never wanted seriously for anything, and at least in her memory, everything was as it should have been. As too often happens, however, that happiness was not to last. Slaveraiders attacked her village in the depths of the night, early in her 'teenage' years. The adults, they killed summarily, or had their 'fun' with them and then killed them. The children, however, those still considered 'trainable', were taken as slaves. Although she was old enough that they normally would not have bothered with her, her striking features convinced them to take her anyway. The years immediately following that are nothing but a blur of pain and misery in her memory, as she was taught to sing, to dance, to perform with musical instruments... and also to perform in much more personal ways. Each time she was judged to have mastered a given task, a tattoo was placed upon her left arm, marking for any who could decipher the glyphs what she was trained in. After a number of years... in truth, more than most humans were allotted for their entire lifespan... she was finally judged fit, and was sold. The man that bought her at first seemed kindly enough, but when she did not show the proper attitude... and gratitude... he felt due by one of his living possessions, he became hard and cruel, as often demanding more of her than she could give as not, even punishing and beating her for no apparent reason whatsoever. It did not take very long of this treatment before her natural rebelliousness led her to flee his estates, running headlong halfway across the continent, always sure the Hunters... vicious individuals trained to ruthlessly and relentlessly hunt down whatever quarry they were set on, which was most commonly excaped slaves... were but a step behind her. Endlessly she ran, barely even sleeping, until her feet were a bloody mess and her body near complete collapse, hoping only to reach the land she had heard of so often... Vanyanin Aran'dor, where it was said a refugee, like herself, could find safety and asylum. |