Samantha sits on the floor of her small rented room. The inn is a quiet place without the usual tavern below. A large pillow softens her seating and the flicker of small candles illuminate the room around her. She has set up a small shrine to her lords... the Triad. While able to maintain contact with the two most powerful of the three, the third, Torm, was painfully absent. She had been warned of this before she arrived... but the place was still empty without his presence. Her mind wandered through the past and beyond the heavens. She hadn't walked in the Mortal realm for decades. It was a painful reminder of her past...
Her mind drifted...
Fields of green sprawled out before her. She was the child. Full of innocence and wonder. Her father, a grain farmer, worked a short distance away... her two brothers at his side. Her skills were not very helpful to them.. unless they were injured. She had a knack for healing and a soul for compassion. It was here that Torm first approached her. The lord himself, under the guise of a wounded traveller, had found her on her fathers property on Anitonica. She had aided as she could. Bringing relief and compassion to the wounds of the stricken man. Shortly after that he spoke with her and she became one of his chosen. A healer. One who would tend to the wounds of the injured in the name of the Triad.
Her mind wandered some more...
Years later... The city of Domar shook and crumbled around her. The shattering had finally come to the continent and death was left in its wake. Buildings tumbled and thousands died. The now High Priestess had managed to get use of a large hall in the city of thieves. They had mocked her prophesy of coming doom but took her money, for the so called rent, just the same. She had come here to tend to these people. The other cities, while in great danger of falling themselves, had heroes to watch over them. Adventurers to protect them... but Domar was forgotten. When the shattering came even the bandit lords sought her protection. She saved whom she could before the city fell. It was by Torm's grace that she had survived... her and several hundred others. A far cry from the thousands who dwelled in the city but she saved whom she could...
Memories flashed...
A quieter time. Twenty years past the shattering. Great friendships were forged. Kithra, Vara, Adrinal and others. Roads travelled and wonders seen. A good time to enjoy life and the company it brought... but dark clouds gathered on the horizon. War approached like dark specter. Khaldaera marched on the continent, taking all that stood before them. She, like many of the followers of the Triad, had been thrown from the city and banished for their opposition to this march. As a high priestess she had tried to bring calm... but to no avail. Eventually the Dominion won what they sought. Full control of the continent. While it brought a measure of peace... it also brought oppression and hardship. She did as she could to lift the spirits of those she came in contact with but they were dark times indeed.
She inhales sharply... a memory thought lost... and wished gone...
Kaarkosa had washed over the lands. Their jealousy of the Dominion too much to bear in silence. They took the continent of Anitonica, for themselves, with unimaginable brutality. The last city to fall was Khaldaera. The last building to fall was the temple of the Triad. The High Priestess was made an example of. For weeks they publicly tortured her in unspeakable ways. Made her to suffer unimaginable pain. Only through the grace of Ilmater was she able to cope... until they finally tired of their game... and took her head.
Awakening... heavenly...
Time unknown was spent in the seven heavens. Her place, as chosen by Torm, was at his side... tending to the three. Paradise granted for service of life. Eternal peace until the blight came upon the abyss and the city of Gates...
Thoughts awakened.
Ilmater, in Torm's stead, had chosen to send her back. Back to mortal form to aid as she could. Not as a human but as part celestial. Her abilities would have to be regained to fit the new form but her task was clear. Aid as she could, reverse the gains made by the devils and prevent it from happening again.
She sighed once more and rose from her pillow. A small stretch and then blew out the candles. Stepping into the street she walked towards the market. Her task was near impossible to contemplate. One of Divine direction in a place with little influence. She had never shied from her duty before... and she was not about to start... Hers would be success...
Samantha Tyrnie
