Dresorginela

Dresorginela
Status	Active
Race	Elf
Gender	Female
Guild	empath
Instance	Prime

The Witch Woman's Tale

"He's from a good bloodline and wealthy family and that is all there is to it Loreleia." My mother sighed as we had the same argument with the same results for the Nth number of times. I was 25 which for an Elf meant I was a young adult... barely; and yet here I was engaged since birth to a man twice my age and with the temperament of a viper. Dolvyd my betrothed was everything my parents had hoped for in a match; he was wealthy as far as commoners went and came from an impeccable family line. He was handsome and suave and painfully polite to everyone except of course for me. Around me his mask fell, his selfish manipulative and downright cruel nature revealed. He had no qualms striking me or hurling insults at me even from a young age. I had tried to explain to my parents who he truly was, but they always just saw a girl rebelling against a perfectly rational marriage match. My mother's slender fingers worked their way through my waist length white hair braiding it into an intricate plait as she helped me ready myself for bed, she would glance up from time to time our matching violet-hued eyes meeting in the reflection of the mirror.

A long sigh pushed past her mouth as she noticed the single tear straying down my pale cheek, "Lorey really... I know you don't understand it now but really Dolvyd is a perfect match for you. Just give it some time." I groaned softly as I pulled the now braided tail of my hair over my shoulder and looked down at the perfect weave my mother had created, "Does it have to be so soon though? I'm only 25 and you've already planned the hand fasting mother... I don't see what the rush is?" My mother smiled kindly, she really did think she was doing what was best for me, "Dolvyd has been waiting for a while now... besides the sooner you two get to know each other the sooner you will bring my grandchild for a visit." I felt the warmth start in my cheeks and slowly bloom up into the tips of my ears as the blush flooded to my face. The idea of being like that with anyone, was not something I wished to discuss with my mother, that had been an awkward enough conversation when she had felt I needed to understand my 'duty' as a wife. The blush did not remain long though, as the idea of it being Dolvyd I was going to be intimate with chilled my blood. He as in all things would be cruel about it, no doubt.

The days passed and my resentment towards my parents grew with each moment they left me alone with my betrothed. The things he would whisper in my ear would cause my skin to crawl, it was obvious he felt my bloodline was inferior to his but would readily admit my face and body were my only redeeming qualities. He had taken to calling me a witch woman in our native tongue, as taking responsibility for his body's attraction to me would have simply been too much for him to bear. Clearly it was I who was tempting him, it was I causing him to stray from our bethrothel by bedding any female he found willing, a habit I was sure would continue well past our vows. The week of our ceremony arrived and the fighting between my parents and I grew. They simply would not listen, Dolvyd's mask was too perfectly in place. I looked down at the makeshift rope I had created braiding the fabrics I had found in my room, the plait not unlike the way my mother typically did my hair and I couldn't help but smirk at the irony. She was the one that insisted I learn how to braid afterall.

My mother treated me as a princess, but not the spoiled kind. No, I was the type of princess who's entire life was a giant lesson of how to dress and act. My entire life up until this moment had been carefully scheduled with a strict routine. I ate like a bird, I moved with the poise of a dancer, I was quiet and reserved as a lady should be in my mother's opinion. So for meek mild bird like me to be currently lowering myself out my 2nd story bedroom window in the wee hours of the morning days before my wedding while wearing a pair of men's breeches, boots, shirt and one of my father's travel cloaks was most certainly not on my carefully curated schedule nor the picture perfect 'look' my mother insist I maintain.

I made my way quietly through the crystal streets of my home, heading northward or at least what I thought was northward. I had never been outside at night, at least not alone and everything that was so easily identifiable during the day seemed foreign to me under the shadow of night.. I waited for the guards to be distracted before I snuck through the closed gate door, if they saw me I was unsure but they made no movement to stop me which is all I really needed. I continued northward trying to follow the map of the trade route I had taken from my father's desk but nothing seemed to be matching up but I wouldn’t let that stop me. If I could just make it to the other side of the gondola I knew I would be somewhat safe of being caught. I marveled at the people I saw running past me like the distance we were traveling was a completely trivial matter, meanwhile I could feel my cheeks going pink with exertion. I was nearly there I thought, though I found it strange the trade route was such a densely packed forest. I was feeling quite pleased with myself when I heard a sound that would forever plague my dreams, assuming I was alive to dream them.

A huge lizard-like being emerged from the trees, his intelligent eyes roaming over me then much to my horror he began to advance. My heart was in my throat as I tried to get away but he kept with me getting closer and closer until the last thing I remember was a warm glow and it took me a moment to realize it was in fact a ball of flames coming directly for my head. There was the sound of a man yelling for me to get back, I felt myself being shoved aside but not before the searing pain of flames kissed my delicate flesh then it all went black to the sound of a melee skirmish. I woke up to what I can only conclude as sometime later as the ceiling staring back at me was the same I was ever accustomed to waking up to; I was back in my room. A woman sat next to my bed and I blinked as I watched wounds bloom onto her skin; she was an empath, a healer and I dread to think how much my parents had had to pay to get her here. I marveled for a moment, not at the way she healed me but the way she was able to heal the wounds from herself. Had I been able to do that myself, maybe I wouldn’t be back where I started. She opened kind brown eyes as she looked down at me, "Almost done dear, won't even be a scar." My hand shot up to my face and I winced at the still tender flesh she was slowly knitting back together on me. "Leave the scar!" I cried out, the desperation evident in my voice.

The woman paused looking at me curiously, and I couldn't help but let my entire story come tumbling out of my mouth. She listened intently, a hint of anger lingering behind the warmth of her eyes. "So your hope is that if I leave your face scarred... this Dolvyd person will not want to marry you anymore?" She inquired and I nodded slightly. "Very well... I'll go have that conversation with your parents and I will try to put out word to local healers that your scar isn't to be removed." I couldn't help but lean up and hug her, tears streaming down my cheeks as I forgot every good manor my mother had taught me and sobbed onto this poor woman's shoulder. Eventually I righted myself and wiped my face as the healer only smiled at me sympathetically, "I'll go inform your parents I have done all any empath will be able to do." She had made it halfway to the door when I watched her reach into her belt pouch and my eyes widened as she produced 2 gleaming platinum coins. Walking back over to me she pressed the coins into my palm and gazed down at me in concern. "If this whole scar thing doesn't work... go north.. Which is the opposite way you last went.” She chuckled softly, “This will help you get to The Crossing and maybe start a new life for yourself. I wish there was more I could do but this is a family matter and I fear interfering will only make matters worse for you... Good luck child." She bent and kissed the crown of my head and I nodded as she turned and left. I had just tucked the coins away in my nightstand drawer under my stationary kit when my mother came in. Her horrified scream and subsequent faint as she took sight of my face was more painful than the actual wound that had caused it.

I was kept in bed by my mother's insistence for the days leading up to the wedding. I still had not seen Dolvyd nor heard if the wedding was still happening but I supposed that it was given the activity of the house. It was the evening before the ceremony and I had just finished re-braiding my hair. My mother's time and attention had strongly waned in the recent days, unable to meet my reflection in the mirror I guessed. My parents were gone, preparing things at the venue for the following night no doubt when I heard the strong steps of Dolvyd coming up the stairs. My bedroom door burst open and I sat up clutching my bedding to my chest. The sneer of disgust on his face when he saw me gave me a moment of hope, a moment that was shattered as his eyes trailed further down to the thin fabric of my nightdress. He smirked slightly bringing his gaze back up to mine, "well you really are a witch woman now aren't you... but not all of you is spoiled at least and the rest is nothing a pillow can't fix." I felt my cheeks flare red in a mixture of anger and embarrassment and a moment later he was across the room his fingers digging into my jaw as he turned my face up to his.

"It's only one night early, I'm sure your parents won't mind a slight indiscretion." he chuckled as he forced me down onto the bed, his intentions made perfectly clear. In that moment I decided I would no longer be the meek mild me my mother had so carefully crafted. Instead I went limp under him, letting him think I would comply while I carefully slid the drawer to my nightstand open and retrieved the letter opener from the stationary kit. He glanced in the direction of my hand and his eyes wided a moment before I plunged it deep into his chest. Dolvyd cried out and stumbled back from the bed before collapsing in a heap. I wasn't sure if he was dead, I wasn't going to stay to find out. It didn't matter he was attacking, my parents would never believe me... his mask was too perfect. I rapidly gathered what things I could into a bag, the coins the healer had given me going into the bottom so they hopefully wouldn't be stolen. I left as quickly and quietly as I could. This time I saved my energy so I could sprint for as far as I could on that final stretch from relative safety to the disconcerting comfort of the gondola itself. It took me days to travel from my home northward. I passed through beautiful forests, an elven town that I considered settling in, then decided it was better to keep going. It would be the first place my parents found if they came this way looking for me, if they even were bothering to look for me.

My eyes widened as I stared at the city of the river Crossing from the opposite bank as I waited for the ferry that would take me across into the city. The passage went smoothly and I wasted no time in checking into an inn with the remaining coin the empath had given me. I spent the next several weeks trailing newly guilded novices, well at least those that interested me, to see what it would be like to train within their respective guild. I bought a weapon and a few bits of armor and though I didn't have the abilities of the novices when it came to the specialties of their guild I did find I was more than capable of learning to fight, even if I didn't do so at quite the speed of my betters. I spent days, weeks even fighting and honing my new found skills. I would never have to rely on someone to advocate for me, I would fight my own battles from now on, I would choose my own path.

The only thing that bothered me was my inability to be truly self sufficient. All the guilds could do various forms of magic, could cause various levels of damage but none seemed capable of breaking their dependence on Empaths. Sure there were whispers of necromancers that could heal themselves in various perverse ways but the idea of dealing with the dead and demons was assuredly not for me. One afternoon after a rather terse encounter with a goblin and hog I stood in the empath guild watching the empaths take the wounds from the bodies of others and then with little effort heal the wounds from their flesh when the thought struck me. What if I could combine the fighting of a warrior with the healing skills of an empath? It was months more that went by as I continued to grow my prowess in combat. I wandered one night into the cemetery of all places when much to my shock and surprise I found a group of people practicing combats against each other.

The fights were often brutal, but surprisingly there were no deaths due largely in part to the empaths that seemed to take the damage onto themselves with such ease. But the part that caught my eye... was an empath like no other I had ever seen. He was fighting a rather impressive paladin, and I felt my jaw drop as I watched him wield his sorcery and weapon in equal parts. I watched as the hand that healed for other empaths seemed to be turned into a weapon itself and then I watched as he healed his own wounds both during and once the fight was done. It was in that moment I knew what path I needed to walk.

I stood before Guildleader Salvur Siksa and he looked me over and sighed, "So you want to be an empath? Very well... what is your name child?" He said in a tone I could only describe as annoyed. I paused for a moment, thinking back to everything that had transpired, my hand unconsciously lifting to touch my scarred and disfigured face. I could see myself becoming complacent here, surrounded with the comforts of a city of adventurers. I turned my attention back to my soon-to-be guild leader and without hesitation proclaimed in my native tongue, "Dresorginela." The Guildleader paused, staring at me for a moment before shaking his head. I watched as he scribed down the nickname Dolvyd had so cruelly assigned to me and smiled as I reclaimed the words for my own. The nickname would become my moniker and with it I would always remember what had led me to this path. I would always remember the failure of my family, my community, and myself to protect me. I would bare my name and my scars with pride and I would never, ever trust or rely on anyone but myself again.