[Jhulae]

Well, unfortunately, there's no Reaper Mini that matches one of my newest character ideas, Kerti, but I did write up a little story for her BG.

The spiked chain girl, Rasia (DHL 2823) doesn't fit, because Kerti wears light armor.

Anyway.. here's the story.

[Jhulae]

She doesn't remember anything of her homeland, which was a small village in Greyhawk's 'protected' lands. She doesn't remember her father, who was killed when the slavers overran her town. She doesn't remember her mother, who was slain by a slaver on the trip back, for being 'untrainable'. She doesn't remember if she ever had a name other than the one Throhl gave her.

She sits nude, cross legged on the floor, very carefully cleaning the spikes of her chain, the one Throhl gave her. It is a wonderfully crafted weapon, very loose and flexible, unlike some of the other chains she's seen. Those tangle. Hers never tangles or kinks. The links always move properly.

She looks down at the blood on the shirt she's been using to clean her chain and remembers the first (and last) time she 'bled'. Throhl is pleased. He tells her she's finally 'ready'. He takes her to the wise woman's tent. The wise woman is an old orc, wrinkled like she's seen about a hundred too many summers. She lies back as the wise woman mutters something and touches over her belly. She screams out in pain as it feels as if her insides are on fire. Throhl is happy. He tells her she doesn't need to ever worry about being with child.

She picks up a fresh silk shirt, one of Throhl's. The shirt is meant for someone of less girth, but Throhl never cares. He always wears things too tight or too loose, as long as they are expensive things, rare things. Throhl likes to show off.

She uses the shirt to wipe more of the spikes of the chain, and in between the links. She doesn't like her spiked chain dirty, probably because of Throhl. She remembers when Throhl had her whipped for not cleaning his gift properly. She shudders softly. She remembers when Throhl had her whipped for his pleasure, or the pleasure of his guests. She suppresses another shudder.

She almost finishes as she runs her fingers near the end of the chain. She remembers using the chain to hunt down another of Throhl's slaves, another woman who tried to escape. Throhl only keeps humans. She thinks back on the training he had her undertake. Tracking. Stalking. Especially humans, so that she could track down any of Throhl's slaves. A tear rolls down her cheek and falls on her breast. The woman wouldn't come back. She remembers the still form of the slave, her first kill. She remembers not wanting to do it but the escapee giving her no choice.

She finishes cleaning the chain, tossing the shirt aside. She stands, holding it with her right hand, the fingers of her left hand brushing across the brand on her left front hip. She remembers the agonizing pain and smell of burnt flesh. It's a pegasus, or the stylized silhouette of one anyway, about an inch and a half long and an inch high. Throhl liked pegasai, which is why he chose it to mark his property. He said he actually saw one. She has only seen drawings in some of Throhl's books.

She walks to the water basin and uses it to wash her hands and arms. She uses another of Throhl's shirts to dry her hands. She doesn't even think of putting it on. She is used to being unclothed. Throhl only allows her jewelry unless she's hunting. Then he lets her wear armor - revealing armor, but armor none the less.

She stands on her toes, reaching the top of the cherry wood dresser, getting down a hat. Throhl's special hat. It lets him go places he doesn't fit in. It lets him get the precious treasures he can't find from raids.

She pads over to Throhl's chair, Throhl's 'throne'. She remembers all the times he told her how this room was set apart, how nobody could hear anything. She remembers how hard he plays with his girl.

She stands in front of the Throne, and kneels in one of Throhl's favorite positions. It is meant to expose her completely. She shakes her head at the stupid reflex, at the training that has been drilled into her for as long as she can remember.

She stands and screams at the dead, fat orc in the 'throne', blood dripping from the punctures around his neck, punctures from the spiked chain he gave her. She screams at him until she's hoarse. She stands and screams at his corpse until no more sound comes from her throat.

-----------------

She'd decided that she would try to stop the slavers, as many as she could anyway, and those who kept others in slavery. She knew it would not be easy. She hated seeing people kept, either directly as she was, or through other subtler means. She found her way to Dyvers, the hat she took from her former owner proving extremely handy on her journey out of the Pomarj.

She found herself at an inn, The Crimson Carbuncle. The innkeeper, an older gentleman with a beard who appeared like life had been treating him well, looked at her expectantly. "Need a room, miss?" he asked after a moment of her just standing. "This girl would like a room for at least week, sir," she replied to him softly, not meeting his eyes.

The innkeeper looked around, then peered over the counter. After all, there were shorter folk who passed through. ""Miss?" he asked her after finding nobody else. "Can she not stay for that long? Is she only able to stay for a day or two?" she asked the Innkeeper in return.

The Innkeeper scratched his beard. "Uh, miss.. A week is fine, I have the rooms, but you seem to be the only one here." She closed her eyes. Men, can they be any more obtuse? I clearly said 'this girl', not that girl, she thought to herself. She spoke slower and pointed to herself. "This girl desires the room, please, sir." She put down a fist full of gold coins. She had pawned a few of the jewels she'd taken from Throhl's palace earlier in the day. She knew gold was more valuable than silver, which was more valuable than copper, but had no idea about actual costs. Throhl did all of his own buying. The innkeeper counted out 10 of the coins. "This'll be sufficient for the week, miss. It'll be the room with the blue circle on the door, third on the right upstairs." She nodded her head, putting her other coins away. "This girl thanks you," she said softly and headed upstairs.

The room was comfortable. The bed was soft, softer than her own pallet was. And it had sheets and two blankets. She moved one of the two chairs in the room next to the bed, and carefully laid her spiked chain across the back of it, within reach should she need. She put her magic hat on the nightstand next to the bed. She stripped off her armor and set it carefully on the dressing table, next to the wash basin. It was definitely comfortable. Throhl had it made especially for her. The lining was soft, which was good, since it was the only set of clothing she had.

She looked at the three rings that pierced her nipples and nether region and smiled. They were platinum with little opal beads. She suddenly felt ashamed. Throhl didn't give intimate jewelry, jewelry not meant to be removed, to just any of his slaves. She had been proud when he'd had her pierced. It meant she was special. She shook her head. That was her second life. Still, she didn't feel willing to part with them.

She washed her face at the basin, looking at herself. She thought she was pretty. Throhl said she was the prettiest slave he'd ever bought. She let her eyes drift to the brand. She said a short prayer to Istus. Fate ruled her life, she had no doubt. It was fate that she hadn't been killed in the raid or on the trip that took her from her first life. It was fate that caused Throhl to buy her. It was fate that Throhl gave her training to use weapons. It was fate that Throhl gave her the gifts of her armor and chain. Fate led up to Throhl's death by her hand.

She finished her prayer as she finished washing. She let fate guide her to the Carbuncle. She was sure there were other inns she passed, but she usually walked with her head down. She always stayed at the first inn who's sign she saw when she lifted her gaze. She'd done that since the Pomarj. It worked well for her.

She tried to sleep, but she couldn't. This was the first time she felt restless. Perhaps it was because she was more at ease. The Pomarj was far away, she was no longer in territory that was raided. The water was nearby and she was sure she had enough gold to get passage on a ship. She tried sleeping for a little while longer, but again, still felt restless.

"As you wish, my Lady," she said softly as she climbed out of bed and dressed. It was obvious Fate must not wish her to sleep this night. She coiled up her chain and went downstairs, heading out. "Careful, miss," the innkeeper said. "The guard's not too vigilant at night. Dangerous times."

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "This girl will be safe, sir. She appreciates your concern," she stated softly as she headed out.

She walked a few blocks. Maybe it was time to find some food. The meat and bread from the street vendor earlier had been filling, but that had been hours ago. She smelled the scent of food from a tavern, probably a block or two away. She headed toward it, but overheard something from a side alley. "Oh, no no no.. Y'see, guv, tha' money ye owes me? Until ye get tha' paid back... I owns ye.. An', in fact, I's gonna take me a bit o' flesh as a down payment... Maybe a finger or free.."

Fate. This girl understands, my Lady, she thought to herself as the chain seemed to come alive in her hands. The man who'd been threatening the other, a thin human man wielding a dagger, seemed shocked at first, but quickly regained his composure. "I's be takin' me payment from ye, Jonas, soon as I be done wif this'n first.. Ye be runnin', I be takin' more than a few fingers!"

She smirked at him as the chain came around, the spikes hooking on the blade in his hands and yanking it from his grip as she pulled. His smirk turned to terror as the dagger flew down the alley and she swung the other end around and into the side of his head. He tried running, but she swung the chain again, lower, catching his ankle and sending him sprawling to the ground. It was all over within seconds. The man lay unmoving, blood pooling up under him.

"I.. I thank you," the other man said quickly before darting off. She nodded after him. "Thank Istus," she said softly.

There was a scuff on the stones from the mouth of the alley behind her. She wheeled quickly, holding her chain ready. "Easy. Easy." It was a woman's voice. She held her hands out to the side, showing them empty. "I'm not here to fight you. That was Ghezon. He is..." The woman looked down at Ghezon, "er, was... a pretty nasty loan shark. Preyed on the weak and hopeless, mostly. Certainly not the biggest player around here, but he had more than a few 'clients' who'll be happy to see him gone."

She looked at this new woman, then averted her eyes, gazing downward. She was attractive, and had jet black hair. Her armor was leather also, cut nicely but not as revealing.

"You know," the woman said, "I have some people I think I'd like you to meet. You seem like someone who can't stand seeing others taken advantage of. While your solution was a bit more .. extreme .. than mine would have been, it's still refreshing to see people willing to help others." She paused for a moment. "I'm Lavasja. I really do think I want you to meet with some others of this little group I run with." Another pause. "What's your name?"

"This girl is called Kerti, ma'am. She would like to know more about how she can help rid the streets of such foul influences."

Fate.