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| Ashara's Story |
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| Destron was out of favor with the town elders. After his beloved wife had died during the birth of his twin daughters Ashara and Qesra, he was left alone to raise them . They were his only reason for living and the only light in his life, after the darkness of his bereavement. He was therefore understandably dismayed to hear the call of his gods, “take up your arms and travel to the Castle of Darkness, there to deliver our judgment to the foul Black Dire!” He knew that he would probably die in the attempt and then his daughters would be raised as orphans of the people’s mercy. However, the gods were as immovable as the frosty mountains in their choice and wouldn’t listen to his pleas. So he decided to turn his back upon their summons and continue to nurture his only reminders of his wife’s love. Justcause, the Shaman of Halas, heard the words of the gods (one of the gifts of the Shamans) and saw that Destron didn’t hasten to their will. Therefore, when he told the town council of the gods’ will and Destron’s inaction, Justcause was dismayed when they didn’t cast Destron’s family out for his failure. For the council knew of the love which Destron had for his daughters and furthermore, he was a carpenter, a valued skill in a land with so few trees. When the twin delights Qesra and Ashara had seen five Thawings, it was time for them to become apprentices to The Wolves of the North. As Destron told them when he told them of their new tasks, “listen to your masters, practice what they teach and obey the will of the gods better than I.” His daughters had often wrestled one another in the snow, and their matches inevitably turned to laughter and hugs. However, they were eager to try their skills on other students and to learn the weapons the warriors used. But before they could enter the high halls of the Wolves, the Blackburrow Gnolls struck! Destron was in his workshop when the gnolls stormed the town, and quick though he was, he was not fast enough to reach the small girls playing in the house before the rampaging gnolls invaded. As he reached the house, he saw the door broken from the hinges, and pots and pans strewn about the yard. Bedclothes and curtains lay in tumbled clumps of material. The girls were no where to be seen. As Destron hung his head in sorrow, he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. Dashing over to investigate, he found Ashara, bleeding from gnoll bites and claw marks, the hilt of her wooden play sword still clutched in her hand. Calling on the powers now forbidden to him, he pleaded with The Tribunal to heal his tiny daughter before the last vestiges of life left her. And lo! the gods were kind, and judged that the life should be returned to the small form, and Ashara was healed. But alas, Qesra was still nowhere to be found. When the town council heard of Destron's transgression in once again taking up the powers of a shaman, they cast him out of Halas to make his way on his own, but since Ashara had not transgressed, they allowed her to be entered in the rolls in the hallowed halls of the Wolves of the North. Still sunk in a fog of grief over the loss first of his beloved wife, and then his beautiful daughter, Destron accepted their dictates without a word, and packed up his belongings, and took himself and little Ashara, newly made apprentice Wolf, out of Halas. As they were leaving Everfrost, they chanced upon a kind high elven cleric. Seeing that Destron was distraught with grief, and nearly oblivious to his surroundings, the cleric stopped Destron by placing a hand upon his arm. "Friend, I am Qallain, a cleric by the Grace of Tunare. What causes the grief I see etched upon your face?" the cleric said. Destron quietly told the cleric of his wife, the beautiful girls, the attack by the fearsome gnolls, and their destination: the safety of Surefall Glade. However, before they could reach their destination, they first had to pass through the lair of the hideous gnolls, Blackburrow. The cleric, moved by Destron's tale, offered to turn back from his own journey, a trip to exchange healing spells with the shamans of Halas, and accompany the barbarian and his small daughter through the dangerous lair. The company turned to the dark hole that was the entrance to the home of the gnolls and bravely entered, the cleric leading the way. Initially, all was going well. The first chambers of the lair held small gnolls, easily defeated by the might of the cleric, and Ashara's little sword. Destron, though, moved as if in a fog, not entirely comprehending the events around him. At the top of a large pit, the smally company rested to replenish the cleric's energy. As they rested, the cleric was hit from behind by another gnoll... as they stood to fight, they saw more gnolls behind the first, and Ashara and her father fell to the hideous gnolls even as the first shouts of "Train!" rang through the halls of the lair. A short time later, Ashara blinked up at the kind face of the cleric. "What happened?" she asked, shaking her head to clear her mind. "Why am I so weak?" "I had to call your soul back from the halls of the dead, little lass. You'll be all right in a few moments," Qallain replied. "Where's my daddy?" was the next question from the little girl. Qallain's eyes grew sad. "I'm sorry, Ashara. His soul was so far gone that when he reached the halls of the Dead, he passed straight through without lingering there, to be returned to life again. There was no returning for him. But don't be sad; he is once again with your mother, and when I asked his soul if he wished to return, he told me that it was better if he did not." "What about Qesra? Was she there too, with Daddy and .. mother?" The little girl's eyes pleaded with Qallain, hungry for any news of her beloved sister. "No, lass, your sister was not there." The cleric closed his eyes briefly, muttering in a strange, musical language. "Tunare tells me that your sister still lives, little one, but that she is far away, beyond anywhere that I could sense. "Now, lass, we must return you to the Wolves in Halas. They will accept you now that your father is gone; it was he that was banished from Halas, not you. Shall we begin our journey?" Ashara looked thoughtful, her tiny brow wrinkling. "Cleric Qallain, you said my sister is far away. You mean farther than Halas? Farther even than Permafrost?" "Yes, lass. She's far enough away that I could not sense her, and I was forced to ask Tunare herself to confirm that she still lives," the cleric replied. "Are there other places I can learn to be a warrior? Other places besides Halas?" the little girl asked, looking up at Qallain. "Yes, there are. The humans in Freeport or Qeynos would be happy to train you, as well as the dwarves in Kaladim, I'm sure." "Are you going to those places?" she asked, looking up at Qallain earnestly. "Can you take me with you, so that I can find my sister?" The cleric looked a bit surprised by this request; he hadn't considered that the barbarians taught their children the importance of family and clan starting at a very young age. As far as Ashara was concerned, her sister was out in the big world all alone, and something should be done about it. Looking down, Qallain could see the determination in the small girl's eyes, and in the way she held her Initiation sword in a white knuckled grip. "Yes, lass," he said for the third time, smiling down at her. "You can travel along with me, and we will find you training, and search out your sister, if she is to be found. And since you will be leaving your own clan behind, let me make you a member of my clan, the Emerald Flame." | |
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And so the cleric and the small barbarian travelled together, the wee lass growing tall and strong, learning the ways of the warrior from the folk in Freeport and Kaladim. Eventually, the cleric and the warrior travelled to far off Kunark, where they still searched for Ashara's lost sister. They did not find Qesra, but they did find other friends, among them Sasandra, a delicate wood elf ranger. Qallain and Sasandra, through journeying and fighting together, fell very much in love. Their friends endured the glances, the touches, with good humor, occasionally joking about setting up a tent and leaving them there. At last, Sasandra and Qallain were married on the steps of the deserted Combine city at the far end of the Dreadlands, with Ashara standing by Sasandra's side. | |
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While Qallain and Sasandra were away on their honeymoon, Ashara joined up with a group of adventurers to fight in the Overthere. One of the adventurers was a creature strange to Ashara, a seeming combination of lizard and man, one of the Iksar. Ashara had heard tales of the atrocities committed by the Iksar, but the Tribunal teaches justice, and not to judge without the facts. This iksar had a remarkable sense of humor, often keeping the others in the group amused. In fact, Ashara liked his company so much, that even when they were not in the same group, she stayed in contact with him. Once, they went on a picnic in Frontier Mountains, enjoying the view from a mountaintop, lying on their backs looking at the clouds floating past, enjoying one another's company. Gradually, their feelings for one another grew, and when Qallain and Sasandra returned from their honeymoon, Stonescale was added to their regular adventuring band. Now it was Qallain and Sasandra's turn to endure the looks passing between Ashara and Stonescale, though since they were more private people, much of their handholding and whispering sweet nothings was done more privately. When Ashara had to make a journey back to Antonica, Stonescale gave her his cured silk cloak, to keep her warm at night and to remind her of his love. His scales blushed pink as he told her of his feelings for her, and she, touched, gathered him in her arms, and replied that she shared his feelings, and couldn't wait until they were together again. No one was surprised, when upon Ashara's return from Antonica, the pair announced their intention to wed. After much confusion, and not a few arguments, they agreed to be married on the bridge spanning the gap between the Iceclad Ocean and the Eastern Wastes of Velious, hoping that even as the bridge spanned the cold waters, their love could span the differences between their two races. And so Ashara and Stonescale were joined in marriage by Qallain, the cleric that had so shaped Ashara's life as a young girl, with friends standing by their sides. For a while, they were blissfully happy. They were never seen apart, and their love for each other was evident even to strangers. But their bliss was not to last forever. Soon, Stonescale felt the lure of his epic quest, and became wrapped up in the questing, paying only little attention to Ashara. He went into Karnor's Castle, and came out only to find more food, refusing even to sleep outside of its confines, lest he miss his nemesis, the Pawbuster. Ashara helped him in his quest as far as she was able, but his stay in Karnor's Castle set his sleep cycle off from hers, and often when she looked for him, he was no where to be found. Days, then weeks went by when she did not hear from him at all, and they drifted apart, held together only by the memories of the love they once shared and the rings they still wore. |