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PostPosted: Mon Jan 21, 2013 5:37 pm 
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Joined: Mon Jan 21, 2013 5:26 pm
Posts: 5
Gamespy ID: RotheWoC
Character Name: Rothe Zau’und
Gender: Female
Race: Itheril
Age: 93
Class: Seke’olath
Alignment: NE
Deity: Valsharess

Rothe was born to one of the lowest ranking females in House Zau’rahel. Her mother had been punished for some indiscretion by being given to a war party consisting of a variety of races and so when she became pregnant the purity of Rothe’s lineage was in doubt. At her birth the doubt was removed, the squalling fragile child was obviously pureblood by some miracle as was her twin, a boy that was never named. Rothe was not named either but assumed the word that was cursed at her whenever she was too slow or too visible was her name and she took it as such. There was much laughter when they first heard her name herself; it seemed the half-wit didn’t even have the sense to know that the word meant slave. Her brother didn’t survive past his twentieth year, itheril society has no mercy and no place for fragile beautiful boys; predators of the worst sort found both siblings irresistible and they had no strong sister who cared to protect them. Rothe watched him die under the same whip that laid her back raw and showed no emotion. Emotions were for the strong; amusement, lust, anger, tenderness, fury these were things she observed and sometimes endured but was not permitted to experience.

House Zau’rahel fell to House Zau’und, the cleansing of the old removed some who mistreated her but raised up others to take their place. Rothe served from the shadows, she was a beast of burden, a pair of hands, a body to be used and forgotten. Matron’s rose and fell, the advisors the first Matron Zau’und had gathered around her remained through all of them. It came to the point when this group of men, as men do, grew tired of being commanded by a woman who would be here today and gone tomorrow and so they began to whisper, then to talk and then to plot. Their purpose would be best served by a female who had no experience of power or authority. The very idea made them snort with amusement until one recalled the wench who had washed him in the bath several times. Her vacant expression and malleability spoke volumes; she was taken, scrubbed, polished and taught her lines. The apartments she was given were beyond anything she had ever imagined would be hers. Filled with ornate and precious objects, jewellery, clothes, food and more; wide-eyed she looked around scarcely daring to touch the beautiful things. Whol uns'aa? Whol dos. They left her to explore and returned to making their plans.

The day came and Rothe was clothed in armor and handed a mace that dragged her arm down with its weight. Ichl mzilt whol uns'aa She blinked sad violet eyes. natha keeshe ? With a resigned sigh one removed the mace and handed her a small dagger, there were some pointed remarks about the effect but she gripped the hilt until her knuckles whitened. As they entered the Matron’s room the last bodies were falling, blood oozing across the floor. Rothe instinctively went to bend and begin cleaning but her arm was seized firmly and she was escorted to the now vacant throne. B'luthyrr p'los l' sel jabbress d' zau'und. All around male and female alike dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. The four standing beside Rothe smirked with satisfaction. She looked around with wide eyes, dipping her head a little. Then she turned and looked at her advisors with a puzzled frown. Ele xun dos naut b'luthyrr? The dagger twirled in her hand showing great familiarity with the handling of such things, her body showing a confidence that the look of confusion on her face did not match. B'luthyrr p'los l' sel jabbress d' zau'und At her words the shadows seemed to multiply and 4 well armed females stood with a knife to the throat of each male, there was a stirring throughout the room as those loyal to the men reacted but Rothe continued to speak. dos inbal chi'us dosst qu'ellar, dosst ilharess lu' dosst Valsharess. Xunus dos talinth l' Seke'olath's orn'la naut zhaun? The deadly name of Seke’olath brought the room to absolute stillness. The dagger in Rothe’s hand was poised over the chest of the first man. Dos zhahen naut l' er'griff uss His heart fell into her hands and was tossed into the brazier by the throne ulu olis'inth lu' inth The heart of the second followed, as Rothe’s arms were drenched in blood. tlu itheril zhah ulu inth the third squirmed but her skill extracted the still pulsing organ. drill ulu hojh zhah ulu el. Silence fell as the fina heart smouldered and then burst into flame.

Jal vin'ult l' Valsharess, jal vin'ult Rothe ilharess d' Qu'ellar Zau'und The whole room fell to both knees, heads bowed and vowed allegiance to Rothe, matron of House Zau’und. One Seke'olath council smiled smugly from the secrecy of their chambers, they had done well when they had taken the helpless child and trained her so perfectly. Another house had been schooled in worship of the Queen and the traditional ways of the Itheril. Her name still brought frowns to their faces, but it was the one thing she would not release, the one things she remained stubborn about, surprisingly stubborn but it showed the strength hidden behind the fragile, beautiful form. Strength that many had underestimated, strength that many more would never see until they felt it crush their throats.


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