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The illegitimate daughter of a powerful Blackport noble who may be destined for greater things - if she can live long enough.
Background[edit]
Khriya Dami was born the daughter of the first consort to her father. Her status was well-below that of the children of his first and second wives, and she enjoyed none of the status that his name and titles brought to them. But at least she was better off than the poor son of the second consort.
It was small consolation.
Her mother, Nïól Adäle, had fled the land of her people, the Snow Elves, many years before. Khriya Dami She never got the full story on what the reason was, but as best she could tell, it involved breaking some social norm or taboo within the community – possibly involving a crime, but her mother was intentionally vague on the issue, and it wasn’t like she had other relatives she could ask.
The elves of Blackport were all generally in such straits – they had left their people because they had either been forced to or had fled to escape punishment or shame. Most hailed from the Snow Elf kingdom to the east, or from the Wood-Elf kingdom to the south. A few exotic elves – Mist Elves and Sand Elves from the far east – were sprinkled amongst these, but were few in number. They called themselves the “Black Elves” – a play on the Elves of Blackport. It had nothing to do with their ethos or their appearance, it was just a weak joke they made amongst themselves that – combined with entertainment and powerful narcotic and hallucinogenic smoking weeds and potions – helped them forget their past lives while they passed many lives of men in Blackport.
While older than almost any non-elf in Blackport, Nïól had the looks and manner of a very young human woman. She made her living singing, dancing, and performing the odd arcane cantrip trick for the wealthy patrons of The Nine Maidens, a gambling den in the expensive Golden Way district. The ladies’ true purpose was to distract the patrons with the performances and the performers themselves, who circulated amongst the gaming tables when they weren’t on stage.
It was in the Nine Maidens where Nïól met the man who would become Khriya Dami’s father – Yara Sepp Addu-Suk-Bey. Yara Sepp was a Baku, hailing from that brutal land to the south. In his youth, he had been the epitome of a Baku warrior – a berserker in battle, who had purportedly killed four armed opponents with nothing but his hands (and teeth, if the tales were to be believed).
But Yara Sepp had lived in Blackport for many years now. An important member of the Addu clan, he had been part of the Baku who negotiated with The Sovereign of Blackport after the last ruinous attempt by the clans to take the city nearly a decade ago. As part of the truce, Yara Sepp was given to The Sovereign, along with many soldiers of the Addu clan, by the Addu chieftain, to serve in the armies of Blackport. In return, the Baku clans received steel weapons, food, and other materiel needed to wage their endless wars, which were with each other when they weren’t with their neighbors.
The Overlord had found Yara Sepp both loyal and competent. He had promoted him several times within the ranks of the Army – from the officer over the Baku levy, up through the ranks commanding mixed forces, until he was finally made a General of the Armies of Blackport – one of three such individuals, and the only one that was not sourced from either the Shadow Watch or the Iron Guard.
Due to his military rank and patronage by The Sovereign, Yara Sepp was a noble of Blackport. Nobility in the city was a function of what one had to offer to The Sovereign – certainly coin was a factor; but power – military, political, or magical – were also paths to the inner circle, influence, and a position that could sip from the vast rivers of wealth that flowed into the Sovereign’s coffers.
Yara Sepp had taken a wife – a human woman, beautiful, of Baku lineage – who bore him only daughters. He took a second wife – this one also human, but of Vulkul descent, with pale skin and red hair. After another daughter, his second wife bore him a son, who could be his heir and carry on the proud name of the Addu-Suk-Bey.
This son was four years old when Yara Sepp met Nïól – and was instantly smitten by her.
Nïól, for her part, certainly found Yara Sepp attractive, even in the throes of middle age. But more importantly, she saw a path out of the dissolute and aimless habits of the Black Elves – a path to a comfortable and safe life, as the wife of Blackport nobility. Alas, she found it was not as she had hoped. Yara Sepp offered her the role of consort, not wife. It would bring her the comfort and safety she desired – but not the status or power. For her or for any children she might conceive.
In the end, she took the offer. It was not the end state she desired – but it was far, far closer to it than her position dancing and singing at The Nine Maidens. And who knows – perhaps fortune would favor her as Sepp’s human wives aged and withered, while she remained young and lithe.
Khriya Dami was born two years later. While she could not take her father’s surname, and could never be accepted by the Addu-Suk-Bey of the Baku due to her mixed race, she enjoyed a comfortable life and wanted for nothing that money could buy or that power could obtain.
Khriya Dami grew, and as she did, Nïól introduced her to more of her elven heritage; she was instructed in the use of arcane magic, which her mother was fairly skilled in. They visited the small temples and shrines that the Black Elves had erected – usually in a building that looked otherwise from the outside, or accessed through secret passages that led down to the beginnings of the vast and terrifying Undercity, the city beneath the city of Blackport.
Some rituals were performed in the out of doors. For these, they journeyed out of the city walls, to the village of Devil’s Horn, so named for the spit of land that stuck out into the bay. The Horn was home to more gnomes, halflings, and elves and half-elves than anywhere in Blackport, with the possible exception of Darklane. She even saw a few dour-faced dwarves as they walked through the dark streets towards a large wooden altar on a hill with a clear view of the stars above.
It was during one of these visits that she felt the call.
As she watched the priestess of Tha’unäyul Néngä – commonly referred to simply as Néngä – chanting the prayers and listening to the response of the faithful, she suddenly became warm. She looked at her arms, and it seemed that they shimmered with a weird, purple-white light. Looking around, no one seemed to notice anything strange or odd – it would seem that only she could see the glow.
Similar things happened over the next year – but only in the shrine of Néngä, never when they prayed at the temples to the other gods. And finally, one night, the priestess – a beautiful wood-elfess named Ärauith – spoke to her after the end of a ceremony.
“Khriya Dami, my love – how long must Néngä call to you before you act? She speaks to me. She has cast her gaze upon you, and would have you as her own. Will you not answer?”
Nïól gave her blessing after some consideration, her only condition that Khriya Dami’s obligations to Yara Sepp overrode all other considerations, mundane or celestial.
But Yara Sepp’s needs were minimal, and Khriya Dami was able to study and train with Ärauith, and learn the mysteries of Néngä’s faith.
And what mysteries they were.
It was two years ago when Khyria stumbled across the old book in the library.
She was done with her required studies for the day, and she was looking for something interesting to help her pass the time that evening. She pulled a book out from the shelves – something about fables of the Northmen or a subject equally as dreary – and she saw another book had fallen behind the others on the shelf, hidden from view until the ones in front were removed.
She pulled several of the books out and extracted the one that had been obscured.
It was old – very old, from the looks of it. The cover was made of some kind of red skin or hide that she was unfamiliar with, bound with corroded brass fittings that hinged the cover and rear of the book to the spine, which fixed the pages in place with large brass screws rather than glue or other adhesive.
There were no markings on the outside to say what lay within.
Intrigued now, she lay the book on a reading table and opened it.
There on the first page was a beautiful hand-drawn image of a dragon in flight – a huge thing in colors of red and gold and purple, spouting flames as is soared in the sky.
Below the image was a caption that read: “Ithi-Ando, youngest of the Dragons to plague the Lands; as described by the survivors of the war-brig Phantom Gale, lost in AY1007 somewhere in the Forbidden Isles.”
Below the caption, was the title of the book: “Istkaash: The Language of the Wyrms of The Lands,” and below that, an author: Velxe Macute.
She raised an eyebrow. Now that was interesting.
She spent the remainder of the night leafing through the book; but it was maddeningly incomplete and ambiguous on things such as pronunciation and grammar and the like.
She knew little about them, of course – other than one supposedly lived far to the north, in the mountains above Ûgozh. Vermithraax was its name, supposedly. People didn’t speak it much, lest the beast hear them and they draw its ire.
Now that was power.
People didn’t even know if it was real, but its reputation was so terrible, they thought it better to play it safe.
She looked at the book.
Perhaps tomorrow she would see if anyone in the city could teach her this language. At a minimum, it wouldn’t be boring.
It turned out to be a frustrating, and ultimately fruitless, chase. None of the linguist schools or sages in town knew anything about it. She went further afield, making inquiries in Darklane amongst the scholars and mages and academies. But none could offer her anything.
She tried studying from the book a few more times, but it was hopeless. Without a speaker to converse with, she would make no progress. Finally, she gave up.
Then, a few weeks later, she was walking down one of the wide avenues within the Iron City, admiring the gardens outside the tall, graceful building that was the home of the Cannon Court – which tried all cases involving priests or temples within Blackport, in support of the cities policy of religious tolerance.
A man was walking out of the building in her general direction, with a slight limp to his gait. He was tall and thin, leaving middle age and passing into old. His hair was more grey than black at this point, cropped fairly close on the sides, slightly longer atop his pate. He had a matching black and grey beard that was nearly a hands-length long, carefully oiled and combed. His eyes were strange – one was violet, the other green. He was dressed in a heavy black tunic, trimmed around the hems and edges with a red geometric meander pattern, over which a deep red toga was wrapped and draped. He bore a staff in one tanned hand, fashioned of ebon wood, the top of which was carved into a dragon’s head, the jaws open. He bore a large but thin tome under the other arm. He wore several rings of bronze and gold as well as a gold necklace.
Their paths would cross if they kept their current pace. Khyria slowed a bit to allow the man to pass. But as he approached, he gazed at her quizzically. Then he spoke.
“Are you Khyria? Consort-Daughter of General Sepp?”
Her Baku bodyguard stepped forward, hands on the hilts of his sword and dagger.
Khyria pushed past him, bidding him stand down. She nodded.
The man approached – slowly, hands raised with book and staff in them so her guard could see he had no concealed weapons.
He gave a polite bow. “I am Mythid, of Yoss, Mistress Khyria. Fair day to you, Domina.”
He looks for recognition in her eyes. Finding none, he gave a mild frown, then continues.
“I am the Herald of Azurimaas, leader of the Cult of the Wyrm here in Blackport. Perhaps you have heard of us? No?”
Hearing the negative, he continued. “Well, Mistress – I have heard of you. One of my faithful reported that you were overheard looking for a linguist or sage who might teach you Istkaash – the speech of Azurimaas’ children.”
Her eyes widened as he spoke the word. The pronunciation was…inhuman. How did he make such sounds? Her attempts had been so wrong! He smiled. “I see now that my information is correct. Mistress Khyria, if learning this tongue is something of interest to you, I would be most honored to be your tutor – to my knowledge, I am the only person fluent in all of Blackport – and for quite some distance beyond. It would be an honor to help further the education of one of our proud City’s most illustrious offspring.”
He gives a glance to the guard, then continues. “Please, Mistress – speak with your father; should he agree to allow you to learn under my tutelage, send word to me at The Temple of the Wyrm – we have recently opened a new temple, near Arena Gate.”
He bows, lowering his hands. “Good day to you, Mistress Khyria. I hope I will be able to help you acquire this knowledge you seek.”
Of course, she was able to persuade Yara Sepp to allow her to take instruction from this Mythid of Yoss. But only in Domus Eryx, under careful guard.
It was difficult. No, it was all but impossible.
Mythid required her to contort her lips and tongue into shapes she could not fathom; the language required careful coordination of breath, nostrils, larynx – everything. One needed to be but only slightly off, and the sounds were senseless – or worse, imported a meaning wholly different from that intended, which Mythid impressed upon her had ended more than once with a supplicant being eaten or burned alive by the beast they were attempting to parlay with.
Mythid was an excellent teacher, and six months later, she was able to string together the most basic of phrases. She couldn’t believe the sounds that were coming out of her own mouth when she spoke. It wasn’t hissing or bellowing or roaring – though those sounds were present as under- or over-tones. It was, she realized, more akin to a strange form of sorcerous language. It reminded her more of spell-casting than any of the other languages she spoke.
She learned many things besides the language of the dragons during her tutelage – she learned the names of the known dragons of the lands: Vermithraax the Black, a powerful winged fire-drake that resided in the northeastern mountains of Ûgozh; Sussurimaas the Wicked, a foul green land-drake who purportedly resided in a sunken city somewhere in the vast morass on the other side of the Iron Mountains, a place called The Dire Fens; Urduhaas the Lame, oldest and largest of the wyrms, a flightless cold-drake whose lair was hidden in the glacial mountains of the Frozen Wastes of the north – if he still lived; Haasturath the Golden, a three-headed winged fire drake who dwelled somewhere in the vast desert known as the Sea of Sand; Narathaazhul the Blind, possibly mythical, listed as a flightless wyrm who lived in a remote lair in far-away Nihar; and Ithi-Ando, the Red, a relatively young dragon that took up residence in the Forbidden Isles within just the hundred years or so. All of these were, according to Mythid’s faith, the children of the god he worshiped, Azurimaas, the Father of all Dragons, and the incarnation of avarice and greed.
Mythid was careful not to stray into preaching, and made no attempt to attract her to become one of his faithful; but nevertheless, she learned bits and pieces about his faith during their sessions. The Cult of the Wyrm was a very new presence in Blackport, but the following was rapidly growing – its focus on greed, avarice, and the accumulation of wealth was a theme that was quite popular with the cities inhabitants, apparently. The faithful were, naturally, drawn more from the wealthier classes, although significant numbers of merchants and craftsmen were also present, perhaps thinking that Azurimaas might see fit to elevate them should they come into sufficient riches.
During her studies one day, Mythid paused, closing the book he had been instructing from.
“Mistress Khyria,” he said, glancing at her guards who were a few steps away, keeping tabs on the acolytes. “Are you satisfied with my teachings and your progress to date?”
Receiving a nod, he continued. “I am happy to know this. As you know, I have asked nothing in return for my efforts – as I said, the honor is mine to provide this knowledge to you, as a scion of the city’s leadership.”
“Last evening, during my commune of prayer, I was visited by a vision. I was walking outside of the city walls, atop the summit of the North Mine hill; the earth shook, and the buildings of the city swayed. The Spire itself shook in the center of the city, and large chunks of black rock fell from it; these rained down over the city, and in particular, a huge block fell upon this very Temple we now sit in. Given the size of the block and the height from which it fell, the temple should have been crushed utterly. But you stood upon the roof of the temple, looking upwards; and as the fragment of basalt from The Spire fell over you, it split into a thousand fragments, which fell like harmless rain on the building, causing it no harm whatsoever.”
He pauses, looking down at the book. “I believe that Lord Azurimaas means to tell me something through this vision. I believe that our meeting was not accident – that your discovery of and interest in learning Ishtaak was fate.”
“I am but a humble servant, Khyria – first and formost to Lord Azurimaas and his children, of course; but immediately after, a faithful and true citizen of Blackport and our glorious and invincible Sovereign. But the vision, it…disturbs me.”
“I hope that, should my small following find itself under threat, that I might…call upon you…to request the favor of your house to our cause?”
Then, last month, Yara Sepp summoned Khriya Dami and Nïól to the room he used to receive visitors and guests. It was the room business was conducted in.
Nïól was terrified. She clutched Khriya Dami’s hand so tightly it hurt.
They entered to find Yara Sepp speaking with a dark-skinned man, his head shaved, who wore lose, bright draped cloth over his lean frame. He sported much gold jewelry.
Nïól recognized him as Isma Bazzi, the guildmaster of The Cartel, the most prominent purveyors of usury in Blackport.
Yara Sepp smiled when they entered. Civilized life had left its mark on the aging warrior. He was still an imposing figure – nearly six feet four inches tall, and a solid two-hundred and twenty-five pounds of nearly solid muscle despite his age. He trained daily with weapons, and against armed slaves at least once per month. By Baku standards, he was now a soft civilian; but by the standards of nearly everyone else, he was still a stone-cold killer.
“Nïól, my faithful consort. And Khriya Dami, my love. Pay your respects to honored Bazzi, my guest.”
They curtseyed and welcomed the man. Nïól’s expression had changed from terror to confusion now.
“I inform you that honored Bazzi has made me a gift, one that pleases me. Khriya Dami, beloved, you grow into a woman soon. You are protected by my power, but there are times where a strong arm and a sword are worth far more than that. I would rather you live than simply avenge you.”
“Bazzi gifted me one of his most trusted agents, to serve as your protector and guardian. I have met this man – Nefer, he is called. I find him acceptable. He will be your protector and bodyguard, until such time as he is not.”
He looked at Khriya Dami, and then Nïól, clearly expecting thanks. They gave it to him, despite any misgivings or concerns they might have.
Yara Sepp’s decisions were not to be contested, particularly in front of outsiders.
Important NPCs[edit]
Nïól Adäle – female snow elf, Khriya Dami’s mother, NE; first consort of Yara Sepp; she is demure and defers to the wives within the household of Yara Sepp; but secretly she plans on causing their ruin and taking their place as his wife to secure his wealth and riches for Khriya Dami.
Yara Sepp Addu-Suk-Bey – male human (Baku); Khriya Dami’s father; General of the Army of Blackport; member of the nobility and trusted advisor of The Sovereign
Ärauith – female wood elf; Priestess of Tha’unäyul Néngä and Khriya Dami’s mentor and teacher; respected member of the “Black Elves” community in Blackport. Based out of
Isma Bazzi - male human (Issyrian); Guildmaster of The Cartel, a thieves’ guild specializing in loan sharking/usury; business associate of Yara Sepp;
Nefer – male human (Issyrian); employee of Isma Bazzi and member of The Cobras, a fighting/assassin’s arm of The Cartel
Khriya Dami’s age is 19 for reference below
Bente – Yara Sepp’s first wife, a vulkul woman, now past child-bearing age; mother of the girls Taja Yara (female, age 31), Hadu Yara (female, age 30), and Donno Yara (female, age 28); Bente tries to exert her status as 1st wife and mistress of the house; but having given Yara Sepp no male heir, she is constantly locked in battle for primacy with Miska (below)
Miksa – Yara Sepp’s second wife, of indeterminate ethnicity, now unlikely to bear more children; mother of Alu Yara (female, age 27) and Zaka Sepp (boy, age 25); Miska knows that as the mother of Yara Sepp’s only male heir, from a practical point of view, she is the true mistress of the house, rules of nobility be damned. She also knows that if anything happens to Zaka Sepp, her place is little more than that of a consort. She is obsessive about protecting Zaka, something he finds extremely irritating – as does his father, who expects him to live up to the standard of a Baku warrior and leader. Mika is paranoid regarding plots by Bente and the consorts to remove Zaka, to the point of almost mania.
Aggela Panea – Yara Sepp’s second consort, from some southern land; mother of Makis Panea (boy, age 11); still of child-bearing age. Aggela was a slave when Yara Sepp made her his consort, freeing her as part of the deal. She has no interest in the intrigues of the mansion, and cares only for her son. Makis, on the other hand, has trained and studied, hard. He excels at all the tests that Yara Sepp has provided for Zaka, and compared by what they accomplished at the same age, he is better than Zaka by far. Zaka takes little notice of this, but Makis knows that should Bente or Nïól be successful in eliminating Zaka, it is possible that Aggela could be made a wife, making him Yara Sepp’s heir.
Tristesse was Zaka’s tutor for a time.