Description
A young, half-feral looking creature stands here before you. She is thin,
but not necessarily unhealthily so. She has silvery-gray hair that
cascades down nicely over delicate features. She is clearly of mixed
race, her features too delicate to be a human but not quite elevated
enough to be elven. Luminescent violet eyes peek out from an ashen gray
complexion. This complexion combined with her slightly pointed ears mark
her as a half-drow. She is clothed in loose-fitting, travel-stained
garments. Her hair and clothing is covered in sticks and mud and assorted
wildland debris. Her bare feet are grime covered and calloused and she
looks perfectly content existing in her feral state.
Role
Blood Rot Forget Her Not
Added Mon Aug 21 00:00:39 2023 at level 1:
Avarazza woke up. She was homeless. She had been treated like a runt and
an outsider before, but now she was cold, alone, and thrown out into the
swamp to rot.
Who was she and what happened you ask?
Her name was Avarazza Nae'figuel. And dark-elves are not known for
patience, kindness, or mercy. Her mother had an affair with a human of
questionable scruples. Avarazza, her mother, nor her dark-elven 'clan'
knew nor cared that her father was not altogether a bad man. Perhaps
nature won out this round.
Avarazza's mother, more out of a sense of self-preservation than love,
tried like hell to hide her from the enclave. She swore that her family's
skin just got darker as they matured. She said that her line had
naturally softer ears, the result of a devil's pact. The dark elven
witches were skeptical but they were certain the truth would come in
time. And come it did. The truth is, Avarazza didn't have the malevolent
streak in her.
It wasn't that she was squeamish or particularly repulsed by the swamp
that the enclave resided in. She found the blood sacrifices and rituals
distasteful, to be certain, but more than anything she simply didn't have
the abject cruelty that her half-kin around her had. And this made her an
outcast.
And then, as she got older...her skin stayed pale. Her ears stayed
blunted. And finally, the elder matrons, so well versed with blood, did a
small ritual to determine that she was indeed far from pure.
And so, she was thrown out into the swamp. Her blood too close but too
far to be used in a ritual. The dark-elves left her with a parting gift.
They wove their dark rituals and put a curse upon her flawed bloodline.
They poisoned her very blood, and left her to rot.
Lichen Glows, Sun Rose.
Added Mon Aug 21 00:02:55 2023 at level 1:
Avarazza woke up. She was homeless. She had been treated like a runt and
an outsider before, but now she was cold, alone, and thrown out into the
swamp to rot.
And so, Avarazza woke up. Softly, at first, from the warm glow of the
lichen. And then the harsh light of the Sun. But it wasn't as harsh on
her skin as she had been taught to believe from her half-kin.
Besides. She wasn't supposed to wake up. She had been left to rot. She
had seen the fast-acting blood magic of the witches before. It was fast
acting and most assuredly fatal without help.
And as she took stock of her surroundings, she was most curious by what
she saw. She had quite a few engorged leeches stuck onto her limbs. They
purified the blood. Offsetting the magic. And saving Avarazza's life. And
so, she became quite feral. She studied the leeches. She studied the
swamps. And after a few short weeks this feral half-drow had stumbled her
way into being half-way comfortable in the swamp.
You see, the dark-elven enclave Avarazza came from lived in the swamp for
the darkness and cover it provided. But they never truly belonged, or
thought, of how they impacted the swamp. The smoke, and acrid smell of
foul magick, eventually attracted a group of wildling centaurs, more
concerned with Thera's wellbeing than with fear of the strange smells and
unholy sounds coming from the dark-elven enclave.
These centaur, however, observed Avarazza from a distance. Their natural
camoflauge and way of the wilds let them observe her without her ever
realizing it. And more importantly, they came to see that she was
accepted by the swamp. Sure, there were dangers. The serpents within
would devour her, a sting of the marsh scorpion would fell her, but she
somehow wove her way through these things with the grace of one at home.
And, after many days of observation, they showed themselves to her. And
they brought her within.
Little Leech. Witch-Doctor. Death and Decay.
Added Mon Aug 21 00:04:58 2023 at level 1:
Once the centaurs and Avarazza established communication, they learned
from each other. Avarazza learned how to become even more at home with
the centaur. And furthermore, she was able to explain where she came from
and how she had been left for dead. The centaur thought her tale was
equal parts perplexing and humorous.
They dark-elves were calling unholy magick and speaking curses to make
their enemies sick. But they did not understand the forces there were
trifling with. Sickness, illness, is not the end. Death, is not the end.
It is all merely a symptom. Sickness and illness, is necessary.
Pestilence and plague are the precursors for healtheir growth. They
showed her how much stronger she was now that the leeches had cured her.
They affectionately called her little leech.
They pointed out the difference between the natural cycle of sickness and
health compared to the pain that the unnatural rituals of the enclave was
causing the environment. This sickness, is not natural. And therefore, it
only leads to pain and suffering. They showed her the stone houses of
Arkham and Absalom, and how the vines and swamp wilted and curled away
from these obstructions. Another illness. But no new growth would come
from the stone foundations.
Someone. Something. Needed to make things right. Perhaps it was Avarazza.
She studied with the clergy of the centaur and discovered that she had a
talent for something similar to what her dark-elven half-kin enclave
meddled with. Decay and disease spread from her fingertips with ease.
But, under the centaur's direction, she saw how new growth would spring
from the decayed remains of her studies.
Perhaps Little Leech was the witch-doctor that Thera needed. Certainly,
this strange swamp-born half-drow had seen enough to know that she needed
to do something. Her studies with the Centaur had introduced her to
theology and the pantheon of Thera. Rarywey, was someone they spoke
fondly of. And as she watched the slight current of the swamp take away
the decayed debris and reveal fresh life, she decided to follow it,
certain she was going the right way.
Avarazza's Conflicts and Determinations
Added Sat Sep 2 13:10:02 2023 at level 36:
We all have worth. We all have value. But why?
That is a question that Wood-and-Bones posed to Avarazza, and something
she mulls over.
She is proud to be one of the Breathless. She is proud to be a Sunwarden.
But she struggles with the inclusive nature of the Tree.
Avarazza feels that the reavers often times kill mindlessly and wantonly.
Unlike the savage animals of the wilds that they embody and represent,
they are not predators. Predators kill for food. Predators have a place.
Avarazza believes that Reavers far too often are more killer than
predator, simply killing any they can. This is wasteful, in Avarazza's
eyes. Death should have a purpose. It is true, that from Decay, from
Death, Life can begin anew, but that does not mean that killing is
something that should be done all of the time.
To this end, unless they are one of the Defilers, one who's death yields
a healthier environment for life to grow anew, Avarazza argues for
discretion and temperance. She has already butted heads often with the
Reavers and has little doubt that before too long, she will be fighting
them physically. In her mind this is inevitable, and it will teach them
to respect the Sun and tread more carefully.
She finds Rarywey much easier to speak to than Wood-and-Bones, but she
does enjoy Wood-and-Bones, for what he is, what he represents. She has
promised the arches of her foot to Wood-and-Bones. The Tarsals, as she
uses them to walk and feel Thera, and Rarywey asked her to take her boots
off the first time she swam into the River. This reminds her of the
swampy homes she came from, and when the leeches saved her life she
distinctly remembers stumbling around the swamp with her bare feet, and
feeling the squelch of the marsh underneath her arches.
She is eager to progress in the faith of her Goddess, and has began to
trust Rarywey and feel comfortable in the shrine, to this end she often
times displays her humor- an at-times awkward thing with her
half-dark-elven background, but still inclination toward the light and
sun.
But simply put, she is, she lives, and she is excited to continue as such.
PK Wins
Aug 28, 2023|Lv 25|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Hjaldur vs 1: [25] Avarazza (100%, dispel evil)
Aug 28, 2023|Lv 26|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Kaurzu vs 1: [26] Avarazza (100%, slash)
Sep 2, 2023 |Lv 36|The Battlefield|Kreltish vs 2: [37] Rambos (64%), [36] Avarazza (35%, prayer of anguish)
Sep 3, 2023 |Lv 41|The Gilded Den|Moruht vs 1: [41] Avarazza (100%, prayer of anguish)
Sep 3, 2023 |Lv 41|Hamsah Mu'tazz|Laeknir vs 2: [51] Falgur (76%, parting blow), [41] Avarazza (23%)
Sep 4, 2023 |Lv 46|Forest of Prosimy|Rhourder vs 4: [51] Falgur (52%, corrosive slice), [47] Kinkraevn (0%), [46] Avarazza (15%), [51] Zpeyla (32%)
Sep 4, 2023 |Lv 48|The Eastern Road|Laeknir vs 2: [46] Mhorq (68%, divine anger), [48] Avarazza (31%)