DATE: 12 Catechism - Hashkar 127

Today, somethin' strange happened. I was passin' through the Hive, happily on my way to work at Quake's when the barnacle-eatin' Dancin' Man yet again, threw himself at me. This strange, twisted individual wouldn't let go but kept yellin' at me "Who are you? Who are you?" over and over. I didn't have the heart to knife him - not to mention I'm still recoverin' from the last time I had tried that...

Anyway, the strange part was it put me in a new perspective. Who really am I? With all these detailed disguises, false names and unique persona's I've been pickin' up I sometimes lose track of just who I am. I'm Nim but that doesn't mean anythin'; I'm also Terrin, Karlina, Dimesh, Geas, Largo... the list goes on. At least at the core of it though, I'm Nim. That's what my Uncle called me and I would assume my mother gave me as a name though its suppose to be much longer and have the usual elvish swirl to it. I only get a shortened version of it but then again, I am only half land elf.

I suspect I take after my father a lot - he liked the high seas, of course, that's an understatement as he was a sea elf and a pirate. I wish I had known him or even met him - same goes with my mother. They might have guided me a bit better than my Uncle - a sorry soul he was though he did understand me a bit better than I thought at the time. He tried to encourage me to take after the land elf traits but the village only tailored to makin' women fluff. I wanted more - I wanted to learn sword fightin', go treasure huntin', have adventures, maybe even live the life in a bigger city makin' somethin' of myself. That led me to rebel against 'em and leave on my own for a port city.

That's not entirely true. They booted me out for tryin' to get the other young elflin's my age to not be fluff. Of course, they covered it under sendin' me away for education in a higher light. Yeah right. They were mostly humans in the city and I was the equivalent of a 14 year ol' to 'em. It seemed like all of the fen-sucking male population wanted to take advantage of me in one fashion or another. My feet were my best friends back then - I could run to the nearest waterway, dive in and sit at the ocean bottom for hours. None chased me there and I found I could talk to the sea creatures though I must admit, the least intelligent ones hang close to the city.

Somehow I met a crowd that was a bit seedier than the rest, wore darker clothin' and lurked in the shadows. They at least treated me as a potential equal with a lot of possibilities for the future. I learned a lot from then - but none of it could be found in any books I've ever seen. I became a rumor monger and gossip grabber while doin' bar wenchin' at a nearby tavern. The information I gathered was worth more than the tips I was collectin' and went to some of my studies. The one thin' my Uncle insisted upon was my readin' and writin' skills - that lead me to my next job. Readin' and Writin' really wasn't my thin' - but crackin' codes was. That paid QUITE well and lasted me a few years.

I seem to get bored with the same ol' thin'. That's when I ran into my first gang of gat-fowling pirates. I could fluff it up and make it sound impressive but that's what they were. They taught me the arts of swordfightin', crossbow marksmanship and even cabin life. They even brought me onboard for a few years as one of their own. We had the time of our lives with treasure huntin', nailin' merchant ships, smugglin'... of course, they thought I was a young cabin-boy, what with me wearin' my hair short and dressin' in baggy clothes. Only the captain knew different - he reminded me of my Uncle 'cept he let me learn the ways of life I wanted to learn while lookin' out for me gettin' into troub'l.

My path to Sigel was mostly forged by... well, some infested spineless worm-filled, harpy-spawning, spider-fostering, ferret-fart of a mage that hopefully died a wretched death. He attacked our ship with some kind of banishment spell and I took the brunt of it. Actually, we were sackin' his ship and he was merely defendin' it - no matter. I took the force of the spell as I pinned him with a crossbow bolt. The next day, I woke up in Sigil. At least I consciously awoke in Sigil - however, my body was in a limbo kind of state. My naked body was invisib'l yet I was there in a place I had never been before. I've spent the majority of my time wanderin' around bein' very private about my missin' image and wearin' a lot of heavy clothin' and disguises - includin' ones that cover the full face. It was rough before I got some colored eye lenses and dark glasses.

No matter, I could have used someone like the ol' Captain or even my Uncle here in Sigel. I tend to get into troub'l too easily. The long arm of the law is always reachin' around a corner for me, but that seems to be my nature as I am rather antagonistic, blunt and tend to act before thinkin'. Its all so different for me where a simply muggin' was the way of life in a new town. This is all factions and divisions and splinter groups and smog and pollution and no trees and no ponds worth swimmin' in... I digress though. Needless to say, I don't like the setup here in Sigel and if I could change it somehow, I would. There's just too much in the way of politics goin' on and folks should be more free. That's how I met some of my latest friends, well, actually, there are two groups of my 'friends'. The first is the ones that I wander the planes with. I hang with 'em and go places I never dreamed existed and half the time, wish didn't exist except in some strange religious fantasy/nightmare. The other is the ones that are like minded to me. We tend to sit around and bitch about life in Sigel and talk about improvin' it somehow - not that any of us every do anythin'... we just like to bitch.

The first group is made up of Chakan (a rabid Doomgaurd that dresses in black, bristles with weapons and has an uncanny habit of losin' his hat - he's the latest "Captain" of the group), Lilah (A Free League scout type with some great folks back in Tradegate that she complains about), Valas (A Godless Magma Elf that's too curious about magic and welds it along with priestly natures of the most unnatural kind), Rogan (A Fater that's quite the opposite of me as he is into the politics and wouldn't be happier if he had his hand in the pocket of every mayor in the Governor's faction) and Killraven (A Mercy Killer type that's a Mule from some desert climate and has had half his body turned into Undead).

The second group, well, just doesn't warrant any explanation as they are all mixes, races, sizes, types, whatever and tend to hang around Quake's in the Xao-Tech portion of the Hive. A rough bunch to say the least but on the other hand, they have their own ways which definitely would improve the local climate.

Anyway, back to where I was... My specialties and nature at gettin' into mischief way to easily have led me to be a disguise expert. I'll wear 20 disguises a week if I can and have half a dozen different stashes of clothes around the city. It keeps the pox-marked Hardheads off my back a little, though there are at least 10 different warrants for my arrest under different descriptions. That's currently where I stand. I've been losin' more and more of myself into the disguises. Chakan keeps tellin' me if I believe in somethin' hard enough, it might come true. Well, several of my disguises in the last few weeks have led to some strange outin's I can't quite recall how the events happened. While I was bein' Karlina the White, a strange clerical priestess of Deep Sashalas with the titles and sect of Wave Priestess of the Cleansin' Surf, I could have sworn I casted some spells of healin' and put out a big fire. Of course, there aren't any scars left to prove it and I could have always just chugged a potion and forgot about it or even read a scroll. While bein' Dimesh the Black, Sister of Largo, I hacked my way though a pack of Hell's hyenas with efficiency and skill like none I ain't ever seen. Yet strangely enough, I can barely wield a sword in my left hand now. Maybe I was just really really pissed. No matter, life is weird here. A vacation might be in order sometime soon as we've caught the eye of the Lady of Pain. She's the main force of law here and that means troub'l for sure.

--An introspective entry in Nim's personal journal

Authored by: Ken Lipka E-mail me: krlipka@yahoo.com

Return to Luck of the Draw Page