Description
Looking at the face of this giant, you see the signs of
wisdom and maturity. Years of a life of struggle emanate
her presence in the forms of various jagged scars and broken
bones that did not seem to heal properly. Yet, you would
assume by her garb that she is a healer by trade. Why would
a healer choose not to mend her bones properly? As the
question burns in your mind, you notice other small things
about her. Her hair, white and fine as silk is riddled with
twigs and burrs that weren't bothered to be groomed out.
Her eyes are a steely gray that, when gazing into your own
eyes, seem to dance with fiery passion. Still, her expression
seems fixed to that of stoicism while her features bespeak
wariness at those around her. The giant's skin is a blue
that disappears against the sky and she flies with both
comfort and ease. She appears to be a marvel of wild, natural
beauty. She is an uncarved block, and an upright heart.
Role
Scattered Thoughts at a Sunset
Added Tue Oct 26 10:04:54 2004 at level 51:
Peering out from the highest branches in the Tree of Ages,
Krystia gazed off into the sunset. Her thoughts wandered
from here to there and reflected on her life. She embraced
the wisdom of the Ancients, the chaos of the wilds, and the
deception to the civilized whenever she could. Though she
did not realize it, she had become a harbinger of the Imp's
ways. All this done merely by living her life wild and free.
She did as her own spirit spoke to her and became a bane
to the order that was trying to be created by the Empire
and the Spire. Yet, she was not satisfied. Krystia wanted
to see the complete and utter destruction of all civilization
and the freedom of every creature to live as they were meant
to live.
Perhaps that is why she was the one to have the dream of the
Celestial Ancients. The fireballs screaming ever closer in
the night sky still echoed in her mind as she thought about
them. Then the voices.. the Sacred Remnants of Destruction,
the faithful, and the dire fate of the unfaithful. She thought
of all these things. What the exact meaning was of them all,
the priestess did not know, but dutifully, she talked with
the other wolves about it. All would have to know...
Ahh, the unfaithful. She had nearly forgotten about her own
people. It had been quite some time since she last saw them
on the isolated mountaintop, her birth home. When she had
seen the destruction left afterwards and an abandoned building,
it was assumed all had been killed. That is when she sought
to join the Outlanders. When she went to search for her own
Spirit Totem, Krystia solved some of the mystery of her own
people. In some hills far to the south, while flying, she
spotted a group of giant kin that seemed out of place. As
Thar-Eris had many of her kind that were related only distantly
to her, she did not think anything of it and decided to
land. The giants wore no restraints of any kind, but seemed
to be hauling mined ore from a mineshaft close by. At the
sight of Krystia, several giants shouted out fond greetings
to a sister lost. Krystia, wary that this may be an illusion,
stood with her warhammer gripped tightly in her hand, the
knuckles turning white. At the commotion, a human in dark
clothing and sword drawn pushed his way among giants' waists
to see what the commotion was about. Krystia immediately
recognized the human to be of Imperial origin. She knew it
was a trick! Immediately she proclaimed a curse on him and
tried to close the distance to attack, but several kin
blocked her way. "Krystia! No! Stop!" She recognized the
voice of one of her close cousins. The human, never breaking
stride, swung his sword at Krystia, who stopped concentrating
long enough to forget about an aura of protection, howled
in pain as a wrathful burning tore through her leg. Stunned
by the vehement denial of attacking an Imperial by her own
kin and the searing pain in her leg, she flew up into the
sky and back towards the First Home. None followed her.
She reached the Tree, went past the Huntress, mended her
wounds, and broke down in tears. She was torn between her
hatred of Imperial oppression and the rediscovering of kin.
She had thought them all dead, but now she knew some of the
truth as to what happened. The rest remained a mystery. The
real question, tho
Family Ties
Added Mon Sep 27 13:14:13 2004 at level 46:
Over the years, Krystia had grown into her role as a huntress,
a healer, one who embraces wisdom, and a reputable anarchist.
Her enemies knew well who she was and some would flee at
the sight of her coming. The wolves of the pack sometimes
called on her wisdom, and she often would speak to young ones
about their role in the hunt to preserve Thar-Eris. Even
through all these years, however, it still echoed in her
head that "action, not words," was the way to live her life.
She didn't always spend a lot of time speaking. When she did,
she said what the Ancients lead her to say.
As part of the Refuge, she did whatever she could to help
any wolf of the pack. While she was naturally mistrustful
of anyone outside the Tree, she doted with maternal affection
upon any wolf, no matter which way they served Thar-Eris.
Yet, while Krystia embodied motherly love towards the other
wolves, especially the younger ones, she looked up to Tjok
as a father. There were none left of her small isolated
village in the mountains, so it was natural to feel a close
attachment to the only other one of her kind in the Refuge,
and that was the indomitable beast Tjok. She wanted to look
after him the way a daughter might see after a bachelor father,
while deferring to his leadership and wisdom. Being so many
years older than Krystia, she knew the day would one day
come of Tjok's departure from this land and the rejoining
of his spirit to Thar-Eris. She didn't like to be reminded
of that though. For now, she was content to watch over the
pack.
A Honed Huntress
Added Sat Sep 4 15:50:18 2004 at level 35:
It had been long since she had been granted audience with
the Imp. Though she could not pray some of the more powerful
prayers that other priests could, she did not let it bother
her. Krystia saw this as an opportunity to hone her skills
as a huntress. She had been spoken to by Lin-Ha about her
natural place within the Refuge. He stated that she did not
need to hunt as Tjok or Djesoe did, but her skills were
used best as one who heals the hunters. There were times
when hunting was necessary, but not by a priestess. The words,
while wise, did not take to Krystia's heart. After so many
years among the others of the Refuge, she was proud to have
been considered a hunter. Her skills in tracking others
were valuable to all, at times surpassing even Tjok. Yet,
she did not wish to merely sit in the Tree and only heal.
Her fight was more than that. Where she was needed by the
other wolves, she went. When it came time to hunt alone,
she did so by instinctual cunning, wisdom, and ferocity.
Coupled with the bane of the Imp, there were few that could
fell her.
A Loss of Power
Added Tue Aug 24 18:53:01 2004 at level 31:
Upon learning the circle that labeled Krystia as a Baptist,
she patiently waited until she could visit someone to train
her in the use of a healing sleep. This had been an exciting
moment for her as, as the prayer was quite powerful. When
she was able to take advantage of training, she did so at
the recruiting officer located in the past. It seemed strange
to find one so knowledgeable among a field of unwise warriors.
A week later, she had fully prepared herself for the use
of the supplication to find that she could not reach her
deity. She knew what it meant...
The Imp had told her to act, not to rely on words. Somewhere
along the way, she had lost sight of this wisdom and was
cut off from greater power of her deity. Where had been her
mistake? She lived solely in the wilds and fought hard
against the oppressors. She had spoken of Thar-Eris to the
unenlightened and sought wisdom from the Ancients. Krystia
remembered the day she spoke to Lyristeon at the Altar of
Air all those years ago. "If you have to ask for my bane,
then you probably don't deserve it." Saddened, she prayed
to the Imp to see how she could improve.
The Huntress
Added Wed Aug 18 00:51:05 2004 at level 28:
It had been several years since Krystia sought refuge with
the Outlanders. Perhaps it had been a hand of fate that
drove her, or the mere chaos of the world that fueld her
passion, but, upon reflection, it was where she belonged.
She had gone home, flying around her mountains the least
accessible way so as not to attract the attention of any
who would be scouting. Upon reaching her isolated, yet
foreignly occupied home, she discovered the great defining
tragedy of her life. The village that she grew up in had
been completely destroyed. All traces of habitation were
gone. She landed on the ground and wept in sorrow for three
days before finding the strength to leave and move on. Krystia
simply had been too late in being able to provide help to
her people and the consequence was the eradication of all
the life she once knew.
Gathering herself, she flew southward over the mountains
and forests. She had determined to seek out the Outlanders,
rumored to be arch enemies of the Empire and everything
they stood for. It took several long months of futile
searching before coming upon the forest bard Psyrel. With
his guidance and recommendation, Tjok was soon located and
granted an audience to the young healer. His demeanor was
foreboding and awe-inspiring. Tjok was a giant to be feared.
Krystia found herself fortunate to be let within the pack,
though, and the wisdom lent of the Ancients filled her with
joy. There still lay the problem of her abhorrence to violence,
stemming from her upbringing. While she enjoyed healing a
great deal, she knew that she had to press on if the end of
the Empire was to be seen. Violence had to be tolerated.
So, for several years, she struggled. As the healer struggled,
she became more confident in her skills as a hunter and
actually began to enjoy the thrill of it all. She could
delight in the gush of blood from a fallen Spireman just as
well as the next Outlander. The change, upon later reflection,
was really quite startling to her. Yet, she knew that what
she did was in harmony with Nature and the furtherance of
Thar-Eris.
Krystia smiled to herself as she thought and sipped cool
water from the water skin made of Alarian's corpse.
Contemplation on Action
Added Mon Aug 2 04:22:09 2004 at level 15:
The words of Lyristeon echoed in her head without pause
for months after her prayer to him. He had appeared out of
nowhere at the Altar to Air as she earnestly sought him.
She almost seemed taken aback that he seemed so approachable.
Still, she tried to act bold and forthright, explaining the
need to help her village same them from themselves.
"My blessing is considered by some to be a bane for this
reason: I expect action, not words."
That was all she needed for motivation. The deity that granted
her "bane" wanted action, not any form of whining or weakness
or excuses. If she wanted to see her village saved, it was
up to her to get it done. She attained what meager things
she could to gather her own strength. While she abhorred
the violence, she was almost becoming used to the numbing
sensation of killing for a cause. Still, she was far from
any warrior and she knew this. Her gift, her art, was to
heal. By making the right allies and proving concern for
others by the quality of healing, she became learned in the
ways of the world. It would be a time before she was strong
enough to be able to defeat the Empire from her village,
but perhaps her true strength would lie in herself to gather
others to her cause. She sighed as she contemplated things
as she picked up her mace and continued her practicing.
The Old Man Knows
Added Wed Jul 28 18:09:08 2004 at level 5:
Krystia had not found her answers within the halls of the
academy. Those who didn't know displayed their ignorance to
such while those that did know either scowled with hatred
or smiled with malign wisdom. It was not until she left the
academy to fly through the city that she spotted an old man
standing expectantly into a copse of trees. His withered
skin and bald head were the color of autumn leaves. His
white beard freely hung down to the knees while his back
was stooped and crooked.
"I know who you seek, giant," the man said as Krystia came
to a landing before him. "The one you seek is the Imp. He
is the great deceiver, the master of chaos, and the wisest
of all deities." The man smiled weakly and showed off that
he was missing several teeth. He leaned upon a carved staff
of oak and smell of onions.
"Seek him, and maybe you will have answers. Maybe you will
find the power you need is not without yourself, but within.
Though, I am just an old man. What do I know?" Again, the
eerie toothless smiled faced Krystia. Something about the
man made her uneasy, as if he knew of all her struggles
and all the ones to come. She nodded slowly and wordlessly
and then flew up into the sky, shaken by the ill feeling
the man gave her.
The Imp. He was wise. She needed wisdom. She steeled her
resolve to do all that was necessary to save her people.
Krystia would seek and pray to this deity.
A Reason to Pray
Added Wed Jul 28 16:30:33 2004 at level 4:
Krystia had learned much at the academy. While she had been
taught all her life of the abhorrence of death and violence,
people in the outside world seemed to embrace it. She was
handed a mace and shown how to use it with some deadly force.
At the academy, she also learned of the necessity of violence
when one must fight back and fight for freedom. While many
of the academy only killed to practice, she thought this
to be somewhat hypocritical. She loved her people, but hated
the thought of the Empire's occupation of her village. Using
this summoned rage, she was able, albeit timidly, to practice
violence in order to grow stronger. She still needed help,
though. She wondered whom she could turn to for aid.
The quiet solace of the mountains and the sky always provided
comfort when Krystia needed to get her mind off things.
When she could no longer stand the bustle of the city and
its overcrowdedness, she would retreat to where the air
was fresh and thin and the wind whipped through her hair.
The closeness of her kin to her provided ample energy to
draw on when invoking her healing powers, but here in the
outside world, it was all she could do not go slip into
unconsciousness when using her gifts. She knew she needed
a deity to pray to so that she could gain strength as a
true and powerful healer. She didn't know where to begin
to seek one and the fear of an indoor temple frightened her.
She loved the call of the wild. Flying high into the sky,
Krystia gazed thoughtfully toward the direction of her village.
Who.. to pray to? Her parents had always impressed the idea
of using her powers with wisdom, to heal those truly in need
with love and without condition. Even her name itself had
meant wisdom, signifying the hopes of her parents that she
would have such growing up. Of course! A deity of wisdom
would best suit her needs. Perhaps someone back in the
dreadfully cramped academy would be able to enlighten her
as to whom this deity might be. She hurriedly flew back.
She wanted to catch someone and get her information before
the sun set in an hour.
A Village in the Mountains
Added Wed Jul 28 15:26:27 2004 at level 1:
All Krystia had ever wanted to do as a child was to soar
endlessly into the clouds, free of all the restraints of
life. Yet, her parents made sure that with the freedom of
the sky came the responsibility of study and hard work.
Their village was simple, lying a week's travel east of
Udgaard high up into the mountains. For centuries, generations
of giants had lived peacefully without the influence from
anyone or anything from the outside world. Being such a
close-knit society, their social structure revolved around
a closeness to each other unmatched by any other society
in Thera. The deities they worshipped were gods of peace
and love. As such, they eschewed any type of violence amongst
each other, and those who tried to embrace it were banished
into the outside world. For them, good and evil did not exist,
but were judgements that should never be placed on a person.
Evil was just a cry for help, a tortured soul full of inner
pain. These were the precepts taught to Krystia from an
early age. Thus, it was not so unusual that she became a
healer, dedicated to the preservation of life and peace.
Yet, no village could remain so naive for so long. There
came a day when the Empire invaded the village, slaughtering
any they could find at first. The giants of the village, not
wishing only peace, tried to appease these evil men with
whatever they could offer from the village. None fought
back against the onslaught, and eventually, the village
became slave of the wretched Empire. Krystia and her family
had been one of the few villagers to escape. They shed their
clothing and hid in the sky, watching and waiting for the
time when the Empire might leave them in peace. It did not
happen, and many of their kin were tortured or put to hard
slave work, or outright killed for no other reason than
amusement to the men of the Empire.
Deciding that the Empire might not leave on its own, the
ones who had escaped scattered to seek help where they could.
Krystia's family did not wish to leave their home they
enjoyed for so very long and decided to come out of hiding
to turn themselves in. Keeping Krystia in hiding, her mother
and father, worried for her safety, went into the village
by themselves to perhaps negotiate a peaceful return of
those who had fled. They were slaughtered. Their heads were
put onto pikes and placed at the entrance to the village
to warn all the giants that no one would be granted mercy
or refuge after having fled.
Krystia was frightened and saddened by the death of her
parents. What use was this peace her kin had believed so
strongly in if others were not willing to abide by the peace
as well. These men WERE evil, may the gods forgive her of
her sinful judgement. She made up her mind to try to seek
help against the force of the Empire. Outside influence had
brought this evil, perhaps more men from the outside could
oppose them. Flying south and west, she found herself in
the Arial City within no time. Her innocence in talking to
others was apparent and she was quickly viewed as what the
birds of the city referred to as "newbie". She was then
directed to the Academy where her eyes were to be opened to
the ways of the world, and her story would truly begin.