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Nadya 'Nadi' Hal'lima
Age: 21
Appearance:
http://i1005.photobucket.com/albums/af180/Taliah32/a784202e2efcf0_full.jpg?t=1299781295
The markets of Gammond were a dangerous place for anyone to peddle their wares. It was not that it was violent. Well, not particularly so. It was the shrewd businessmen, who had no moral qualms about swindling your every last gold piece from your pockets. It was the pickpockets that roamed the bustling crowds. It was the robbers that prowled after the sun had set. As the biggest port city on the coast, it was an economic hub that was vital to the region. the Cities governors were rigidly individualistic, refusing to side with any of the many nations that crowded its borders. Economic pressure kept aggressors away. The patrons of the market began to disperse as the sun neared the end of its journey, and Nadya spared barely a moment of real consideration as she gazed at the mans palm with faux-intent.
"Hmmm, your lifeline is strong. You will live for many years, and your children will be wealthy." She looked at his haggard features, and his threadbare clothing. The fool man was spending his money on something as trivial as a fortune telling. His children and wife should not have to suffer for his stupidity. A flash of memory coursed through her mind. Yes... She thought, I can help this one. Nadya wasn't one of those do-gooder types. The world did not permit such people among the less than well-off. But it wasn't any coin out of her pocket. "You will go to the west gate, where you will find work with the ditch diggers tomorrow morning. Now go, I am tired."
"The ditch diggers! There must be more..."
The long day had made her irritable and short tempered, and the young wanderer turned to him, a snarl marring smooth tanned features, flowing midnight tresses whirling about her neck. "No one gives anybody anything in this world, sir. Now off with you." Only children and imbeciles believed in magic. To Nadya, there was just cause and effect. That... thing... that resided in Gammond's inner sanctum, certainly seemed to defy the common man's (or woman's) understanding of reality. The citizens, and the world at large, called it 'the Spire.'
He stiffened indignantly, though where he mustered such pride, Nadya could not fathom. Without another word, he turned and left Nadya alone with her small wagon and horses. Although she was not prosperous, Nadya was getting by living in the thing. The horses were not such great conversationalists, however. Feminine hands patted the two horses heads affectionately, and pulled oat-bags over their muzzles. "There ya go." Her accent was the abbreviated common vernacular, much harsher than her gentle voice.
A sigh escaped her lips as she looked toward the inner city, at the towering spike of metal and eery blue light. Cults had arisen around its mystery in the past. A myriad of movements had rose and fell. Now, it was the Order. The Order dominated the spiritual life of the people, and no ruler was legitimate without their approval. But none of them had any concrete knowledge of the Spire's purpose. At approximately five-hundred feet tall, it occupied the skyline with unquestioned dominance. It has a reasonable purpose... It has too, even if I don't understand. That recitation had reassured her for many years. Countless times she had attempted to forget that day, that terrible day. But it was too late. The young woman had already been swept away by memory. Her black cat, Teddi, kneaded her skirts with his paws, looking for attention that was not offered.
*
The adults were arguing. Nadi didn't know why, but it hardly concerned her. They always found their way again. "Peter, lets play!" She tugged the older boy's arm, as they stood amidst the wagon circle in the green fields.
"We can't, Nadi. Something big is happening."
The markers. Like the famous Spire, they towered over the small wagon train. Only these spires were made of stone, and many times smaller. Granite obelisks marked the land of the Godhead, the places forbidden by the Immortal Chosen himself. He was said to be the conduit by which the spirits spoke to the people. Death came to those who violated his law. Nadi looked over at the arguing men, and the women tugging their braids in frustration at them.
"We owe him. If we do not get him the money, he will put a price on our head-"
"Piss on him! The Order is a far greater enemy than that criminal."
She turned back to peter. "This is going to take awhile. Lets go." They argued for a few seconds.
"Fine. Come on."
She smiled widely. "Lets go see the kittens."
"I have something better. You like old things, you'll love this."
Her eyes sparkled with rankled curiosity. "Okay." He hopped down from the wagon and Nadi followed close behind as he rummaged through the cargo. "Look."
He handed her a long, rusty tube with a bracket on one end, as if it had been bolted to something wooden. He also produced a wire frame triangle, with small, exotic components dangling in a loosely connected chain. A flaking engravement near the bottom held strange symbols.
"KALISHNAKOV-47"
It was a heavy thing. "I do love it!"
*
With the horses fed and a with fresh pastry from the baker in her stomach, it was time to check on the blacksmith. She had given him plenty of time to finish fixing her cooking knives. The the crowd thinned as the light became golden, as pinks and violets burst like broken cans of paint over the clouds. Finally, the calming roar or the ocean overwhelmed the busy chatter of the multitudes. Through the intermittent palm fronds that dotted the market of the docks, she watched the scene with a vague smile. This was her favorite time of day.
The blacksmith appeared to be closing up. "Hey! Where are my knives!"
He shook his head. "Busy day today. Come back tomorrow."
Her eyes darkened. "I was going to leave tonight."
"I'm not askin' ya." He shrugged uncaringly and finished closing shop, leaving Nadya with nothing to do but clench her teeth. The scenery was different, but nothing really changed. Holy city or not. I can't very well leave them behind. The wanderlust had taken her, and this was inconvenient to her satisfaction of that need. She would have to stay the night in the market, hoping no guards came to ask her for her commercial permit. She couldn't afford a room at an inn. Fate or chance would have to find favor with her.
Despite her disappointment, she enjoyed the walk back to her wagon. It really was beautiful country down here. And she did love the southern fashion. They were a colorful people. She climbed into the back, petting the large feline dozing on the floor. "Hello Teddi."
Barrels, crates, tools, and colorful geometrically patterned blankets lined the walls of her confined home. She moved a pile of blankets, and stared wistfully at the ancient jumble of iron. It had been the last thing Peter had given her. Nadya was in the woods at the time. Peter had always been slower. Thats when she heard the explosion. When she turned, all that was left was a smoking crater. When she had finished crying, when a few years had passed, she had decided that the Spire and the Markers were the engineers of her family's destruction. She didn't know how it was possible... but it was them. Nowadays, her desire for revenge was drowned out by the curiosity of one who had been denied information. Curiosity.
Although, she thought, revenge may one day reenter into her mind. With another sigh, she grabbed her violin, and tuned it softly amidst the twilight. Slowly, the sky darkened, and Nadya played a lilting, playful melody with the gulls and the ocean as her accompaniment.
Nadya 'Nadi' Hal'lima
Age: 21
Appearance:
http://i1005.photobucket.com/albums/af180/Taliah32/a784202e2efcf0_full.jpg?t=1299781295
The markets of Gammond were a dangerous place for anyone to peddle their wares. It was not that it was violent. Well, not particularly so. It was the shrewd businessmen, who had no moral qualms about swindling your every last gold piece from your pockets. It was the pickpockets that roamed the bustling crowds. It was the robbers that prowled after the sun had set. As the biggest port city on the coast, it was an economic hub that was vital to the region. the Cities governors were rigidly individualistic, refusing to side with any of the many nations that crowded its borders. Economic pressure kept aggressors away. The patrons of the market began to disperse as the sun neared the end of its journey, and Nadya spared barely a moment of real consideration as she gazed at the mans palm with faux-intent.
"Hmmm, your lifeline is strong. You will live for many years, and your children will be wealthy." She looked at his haggard features, and his threadbare clothing. The fool man was spending his money on something as trivial as a fortune telling. His children and wife should not have to suffer for his stupidity. A flash of memory coursed through her mind. Yes... She thought, I can help this one. Nadya wasn't one of those do-gooder types. The world did not permit such people among the less than well-off. But it wasn't any coin out of her pocket. "You will go to the west gate, where you will find work with the ditch diggers tomorrow morning. Now go, I am tired."
"The ditch diggers! There must be more..."
The long day had made her irritable and short tempered, and the young wanderer turned to him, a snarl marring smooth tanned features, flowing midnight tresses whirling about her neck. "No one gives anybody anything in this world, sir. Now off with you." Only children and imbeciles believed in magic. To Nadya, there was just cause and effect. That... thing... that resided in Gammond's inner sanctum, certainly seemed to defy the common man's (or woman's) understanding of reality. The citizens, and the world at large, called it 'the Spire.'
He stiffened indignantly, though where he mustered such pride, Nadya could not fathom. Without another word, he turned and left Nadya alone with her small wagon and horses. Although she was not prosperous, Nadya was getting by living in the thing. The horses were not such great conversationalists, however. Feminine hands patted the two horses heads affectionately, and pulled oat-bags over their muzzles. "There ya go." Her accent was the abbreviated common vernacular, much harsher than her gentle voice.
A sigh escaped her lips as she looked toward the inner city, at the towering spike of metal and eery blue light. Cults had arisen around its mystery in the past. A myriad of movements had rose and fell. Now, it was the Order. The Order dominated the spiritual life of the people, and no ruler was legitimate without their approval. But none of them had any concrete knowledge of the Spire's purpose. At approximately five-hundred feet tall, it occupied the skyline with unquestioned dominance. It has a reasonable purpose... It has too, even if I don't understand. That recitation had reassured her for many years. Countless times she had attempted to forget that day, that terrible day. But it was too late. The young woman had already been swept away by memory. Her black cat, Teddi, kneaded her skirts with his paws, looking for attention that was not offered.
*
The adults were arguing. Nadi didn't know why, but it hardly concerned her. They always found their way again. "Peter, lets play!" She tugged the older boy's arm, as they stood amidst the wagon circle in the green fields.
"We can't, Nadi. Something big is happening."
The markers. Like the famous Spire, they towered over the small wagon train. Only these spires were made of stone, and many times smaller. Granite obelisks marked the land of the Godhead, the places forbidden by the Immortal Chosen himself. He was said to be the conduit by which the spirits spoke to the people. Death came to those who violated his law. Nadi looked over at the arguing men, and the women tugging their braids in frustration at them.
"We owe him. If we do not get him the money, he will put a price on our head-"
"Piss on him! The Order is a far greater enemy than that criminal."
She turned back to peter. "This is going to take awhile. Lets go." They argued for a few seconds.
"Fine. Come on."
She smiled widely. "Lets go see the kittens."
"I have something better. You like old things, you'll love this."
Her eyes sparkled with rankled curiosity. "Okay." He hopped down from the wagon and Nadi followed close behind as he rummaged through the cargo. "Look."
He handed her a long, rusty tube with a bracket on one end, as if it had been bolted to something wooden. He also produced a wire frame triangle, with small, exotic components dangling in a loosely connected chain. A flaking engravement near the bottom held strange symbols.
"KALISHNAKOV-47"
It was a heavy thing. "I do love it!"
*
With the horses fed and a with fresh pastry from the baker in her stomach, it was time to check on the blacksmith. She had given him plenty of time to finish fixing her cooking knives. The the crowd thinned as the light became golden, as pinks and violets burst like broken cans of paint over the clouds. Finally, the calming roar or the ocean overwhelmed the busy chatter of the multitudes. Through the intermittent palm fronds that dotted the market of the docks, she watched the scene with a vague smile. This was her favorite time of day.
The blacksmith appeared to be closing up. "Hey! Where are my knives!"
He shook his head. "Busy day today. Come back tomorrow."
Her eyes darkened. "I was going to leave tonight."
"I'm not askin' ya." He shrugged uncaringly and finished closing shop, leaving Nadya with nothing to do but clench her teeth. The scenery was different, but nothing really changed. Holy city or not. I can't very well leave them behind. The wanderlust had taken her, and this was inconvenient to her satisfaction of that need. She would have to stay the night in the market, hoping no guards came to ask her for her commercial permit. She couldn't afford a room at an inn. Fate or chance would have to find favor with her.
Despite her disappointment, she enjoyed the walk back to her wagon. It really was beautiful country down here. And she did love the southern fashion. They were a colorful people. She climbed into the back, petting the large feline dozing on the floor. "Hello Teddi."
Barrels, crates, tools, and colorful geometrically patterned blankets lined the walls of her confined home. She moved a pile of blankets, and stared wistfully at the ancient jumble of iron. It had been the last thing Peter had given her. Nadya was in the woods at the time. Peter had always been slower. Thats when she heard the explosion. When she turned, all that was left was a smoking crater. When she had finished crying, when a few years had passed, she had decided that the Spire and the Markers were the engineers of her family's destruction. She didn't know how it was possible... but it was them. Nowadays, her desire for revenge was drowned out by the curiosity of one who had been denied information. Curiosity.
Although, she thought, revenge may one day reenter into her mind. With another sigh, she grabbed her violin, and tuned it softly amidst the twilight. Slowly, the sky darkened, and Nadya played a lilting, playful melody with the gulls and the ocean as her accompaniment.
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