Illysandri Madril's Background
As a child I never really accepted who and what I was. We lived near the western border, and I had many human playmates. I tried and tried to be human, but I never quite made it. Then, I went to my father's village, the great ship K'syll, but they did not know what to do with me. After the hundredth time pulling me from the waves and breathing life back into my body, it became clear that though I looked like my father, I was not of the blue. And so I lived, midway and never anywhere, for most of my childhood. I had grown upon the tales of my mother, the great swordswoman Plisianna, who had traveled with the Fearless Monster Hunters, who had held the heart of the Necromancer Olfillon in her hand, who had slain so many of the restless dead that it was rumored that new ones were "born" with a fear of her. The oracle told her that the warrior woman was so strong in her blood she could never bear a male child. My six sisters would tend to agree with you. I never really fit in with them either. None of them shared my father, Axilon, with me, he died during my birth.
It wasn't my mother's fault. One of her many enemies had come in her brief moment of weakness, and he had stood at the door long enough for me to be born, and for my mother to take up her sword and protect the rest of us, still bleeding from my arrival. She slew the barbarian Hilgar with me in one arm, so I am told.
My sisters took to the sword well, unlike me. They were beautiful and strong, unlike me. My sisters were pale and shimmered in the moonlight, unlike me. My eldest sister, Furiel, she took my mother's blade and set off to make a name for herself when I was very young.
My mother didn't know what to do with me. I learned the basics of fighting, but I would never be a master. So she left me to my own devices as she trained my sisters. My own devices turned out to be books, and I spent my early years in the company of books and strangers.
When I was merely 25, the oracle returned. She spoke to my mother in private, and I could hear the sounds of an argument. When she finally emerged, my mother gathered the six of us together and spoke gravely.
She told of a promise she once made to an old friend, and to a deal struck with the oracle.
We were to travel together to a far mountain, where we were to meet with a mage from her old traveling days. From there we were to do as he told us.
My sisters and I were confused, me most of all. I was not fit for adventuring. I wasn't sickly or anything so mundane, I just didn't know much about fighting or dealing with the magic that lived in the world. My mother insisted that all of us go, much to the chagrin of my sisters.
And so we traveled. It turned out my knowledge of the languages helped a great deal, but there was nothing I could do during the brief skirmishes we met with. It seemed incredibly difficult to travel this time. I had not been bound by training regimens like my sisters so I had been around, but every night we had to sit watch because of monsters waiting in the darkness, and every day we met with bandits, creatures, or treacherous terrain that challenged our passage.
By the time we arrived at the mountain cave, we had spent all of our money on healing, and all of our food on our way there. We entered with much trepidation.
It was horrible. Traps sprayed us with acid, bile and poison. Animals and undead leapt from every corridor. Walls crushed us and puzzles stood as hurdles to our path. By the time we entered the central cavern, it was only myself and my sister, Syggiad, and we were wracked with pain and grief. We were greeted by a tiny human, who looked like he was at least 100 years old.
As we stood there, prepared to fight, he tilted his head back and began to laugh. Syggiad's face turned from fear to hatred. She demanded to know who he was, and why he was laughing at our misfortune. He told us he needed to test us, to know that we were worthy. To know which of the sisters would be strong enough to carry on the legacy of Wyssien. He told us that when he was young he had traveled with our mother and had accepted a curse in her stead in exchange she would provide him with an heir.
At this my sister screamed at him, calling him all manner of names and charging him. With a passing wave of his hand I watched as she shattered into dust. With that, he turned to me and shrugged his shoulders. He pulled out an ornate dagger and before I could react, ran me through.
I awoke to see my mother's face, despondent, before me. It took me a moment to focus, and when I did I could see my other sisters standing there as well. She explained to me that her friend had sent each back in turn, leaving the rest to believe them dead. Each test they failed would send another back, and that the dagger in my chest was the last remnants of his power as a wild mage. My possession of it meant he had passed on his power to me, but in doing so he was no more. She mourned his passing as I healed.
I am still not sure entirely what he did to me, but my magic began to reveal itself faster than I could ever hope to control it. I began to test it, work with it. It was a scientific endeavor for me. I took the discipline I had gained from my studies and applied it to my arts. I began to change, and my alienation from my sisters grew wider. My mother found for me mages and clerics to train me, but the rote garbage of the mages and faith of the clerics only provided me with ideas for true magic, and their techniques did nothing for me.
This haughtiness served me well, but I will be the first to admit sometimes my power exceeds my grasp. That is how I got this white hair. It was an experiment that Styggiad interrupted. I was trying to disguise myself and I unfortunately changed my form permanently. Luckily this was the least of my "experimental" errors. My elf friends stopped talking to me after that, some nonsense about white being bad luck.
I wasn't completely unguided, however. Wyssian still lives somewhere inside me, and in my dreams he guides my development. He was the one who taught me to focus on the elements to master my magic. I showed an affinity for water and air, lightning seemed to be my strongest weapon. I accidentally summoned an earth elemental once, and after it destroyed my mother's home and cursed me with a weakness for his correspondence.
After that incident my mother decided I should go out and see the world, to experience more and to test my magics "in the field" as it were. I spent the next few decades wandering, ostensibly looking for my sister, who had not been home since I was young. Now my mother tells me I have a new quest, one to continue her work. This should interesting, to say the least. Who would have imagined that I would be the one to carry the torch of my family, even if I could never carry the sword.
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Originally Posted by Cancer
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