Aurew Rissu Mel'Audune the High Priestess of Loss, Cardinal of the Golden Sun

Role

Chapter 25

She moved with exaggerated lethargy, as though every step pained her. The room
was mundane and simple: a basic sleeping pallet and pillow, a small cabinet
with wash basin, a narrow wardrobe. Decor was minimal, but it did not matter
to her. She locked the door behind her and shuffled across the room. The
hinges groaned as she opened the wardrobe.

She had taken up residency here in Hamsah Mu'tazz, at least informally, as a
way to remove herself from the constant questioning looks of those in Darsylon
or Voralian City. Everyone was out to be helpful, but here in Hamsah, she had
chance to find privacy, and to consider her life. It was a place reminiscent
of one of the mercenaries from her youth, an arial named Birdy, who loudly
complained of the lack of feathered women at the Drunken Efreeti. Aurew had
thought it unusual at the time, to which Birdy suggested it was not unusual
at all.

Shaking off the fog of memory, Aurew stared into the wardrobe and pulled out
several objects of no significant value by most accounts: some valerian roots,
a jagged fist-sized crystal of aelite, and a long-dead white and pink swamp
lily. With great care, she placed them about the room; one on the windowsill,
another on the basin, the last, next to her pillow. These were the remnants
she had left to hold onto, even as the memories tried to slip away. Here was
a place she could pretend the outside did not exist, the critical eyes would
withhold judgment. That she should have moved on by now, that somehow time
could solve the puzzle of grief.

Every day was a jumble. That time at the inn, did she imagine it? Were the
details wrong? She had the flower, but the memories fell farther behind.

Tucking herself into the meager bedclothes, Aurew twirled the dried lily
between her fingers and whispered, "So beautiful, so deadly."

As she stared up at the ceiling awaiting the relief of slumber, she wondered
what more would be gone tomorrow.

Role

Chapter 6

The awkward shyness that Aurew displayed in the company of two-legs became
more pronounced as her timid footsteps departed Darsylon. She visited the
big cities of Galadon, Voralian City, Hamsah Mu'tazz -- even Seantryn Modan;
all teeming with people, sights, sounds, smells but no apparent friends.

All in all, Aurew found this more than acceptable; she had already been
responsible for the death of one friend (Audune) and wasn't eager to shoulder
that burden again. Except... being a shape changer was grueling and painful
to boot. Horns here, tail there, hooves, claws, fangs. These were the spells
of almosts and what-ifs. Even with as many of them put together as possible,
Aurew struggled on her own. She trudged through her studies long enough to
tap into the body of a coyote, which brought her a brief moment of joy. Would
this mischievous, canine spirit be enough to reunite her with her beloved
cooshee? At the least, she would be able to understand him better!

But being a two-leg sometimes four-leg is so lonely and she missed the
faithful, unconditional companionship of Audune, even if the result was
always Aurew speaking on behalf of both of them.

Hoping to fill the silence (and learn a thing or two about combat), Aurew
began hiring people to keep her company (mercenaries, mind you). She kept
them fed, gave them coin, and boldly took the fore of every battle she
could. 'Let the sacrifice be me,' Aurew thought silently.

It proceeded as planned, until an exuberant warg and orc combination sent
Aurew fleeing for her life. Her brave Nankorf-eating dwarven charge threw
his body to the front without batting an eyelash. That was, of course, the
last thing Aurew wanted and she was rewarded by returning to see a slightly
wounded orc and warg, and a very dead dwarf.

Aurew was sad. Not Audune-sad, but had this gruff dwarven mercenary left
behind any family, friends, lovers? Maybe she could look but then it dawned
on her -- she didn't even know his name. What a horrific, impersonal thing,
to pay someone money, to watch them lay down their life, and not even have
the decency to ask who they were while they lived. In death, this all became
apparent. Would she be one of the nameless, faceless many that were so easily
sacrificed in the name of... something?

Role

Chapter 7

Aurew trudged through the foggy shallows as she left the crumbling cathedral.
Uncertainty filled her; this was now her home, or so the Doll had said. They
had talked for days about the value of things, people, places -- and whatever
else people apply importance to with subjectivity. They discussed her own
background and losses: her parents, her mercenary "friend" and of course
Audune.

Her unwillingness to put the lives of others in peril and thusly spending
most of her time in solitary fashion had been pointed out as a different
sacrifice. Sacrificing the warmth of a well-built fire out of concern the
house would set on fire.

Sacrifice. Something the cathedral's owner demanded. A concept Aurew wasn't
very comfortable with, unless it was of herself.

She had come away from the conversation with some clarity but was hesitant in
accepting those insights into her life. The tragedies, great and small, had
become the firestarter to whoever she was now. Time was here, now, and
gone again. But the lesson the Doll left her with was that Loss is a Teacher.
It imparts the spirit with new perspective and emotion, while leaving a tiny
hole. More pointedly, the Doll advised that given time, Aurew herself might
bestow this blessing to others, or to guide them to the origins of who they
are -- ultimately grounded in that something or someone that slipped away.

It was this idea that Aurew could help people and show people what the Doll
had shown her that prompted the first real thoughts of aligning herself with
a force in Thera. And it was with great trepidation that Aurew pledged to
the Fortress, to pursue the life of a scribe.

Role

Chapter 8

Life continued on as it had been, for the most part. Aurew spent much of her
time alone with the exception of paid companionship (mercenary, of course).
This did not trouble Aurew; she had a desire to be alone yet as she stumbled
through the days to find her place.

In time, she returned to the Cathedral to converse with the Doll (as yet
unnamed), and was given a task - to bring loss to a friend and foe. All well
and good for someone who had friends! It became quite clear at that point;
Aurew would need to be more social. She tried speaking with a handful of
individuals, both known enemies and presumptive allies, with very little
success. The one individual who did pique her interest was possibly both
(or maybe neither): Galgeron, the Commander of Battle.

The conversation was brief but insightful; he had seen magic turn mortals
into degenerates, and he hinted at some personal connection or experience.
To him, magic was the true evil in the world and he couldn't guarantee that
Aurew would be safe from his hand should they encounter each other in the
heat of battle.

This started the gears turning in Aurew's brain. Was Galgeron deceiving
himself? Magic was a tool that could be utilized for good or evil, just as a
dagger or sword. Could loss teach him a different path? Aurew had an idea
that might further his education, but it was extreme. Possibly too extreme.
Time would tell.

Role

Chapter 9

After a great deal of toiling and trudging through the world, Aurew was
finally able to impress upon her guildmasters and mistresses that she was
worthy of the playful, loyal cooshee spirit. It was a day of great joy and
accomplishment, and while Aurew could no longer be with her stalwart furry
friend, she began to understand what it was like to be him.

This struck a chord with her; she may not be able to bring Audune back, but
perhaps she could become someone (or many someones) else's Audune. She could
listen, be present to their pain or disgruntlement, be a ruff to snuggle on a
bad day or lick away tears of sorrow or anger. She may not be able to prevent
the struggles of man (and in some cases perhaps she shouldn't want to), but
she could make the transition from devastation to enlightenment an easier
burden to bear. A friendly, tongue-lolling face to listen with a tilted ear
was sometimes easier to confide in. Aurew could attest to that. Now if only
everyone understood dog speech.

Role

Chapter 10

Aurew sloshed through the foggy shallows away from the Cathedral with a
measure of confusion and dejection. Elra stated the only way Aurew could
disappoint was by giving up, but Aurew also felt there were countless ways
to achieve it beyond abandonment. Aurew's duty to uplift, protect and bring
hope to the Light, while not mutually exclusive with the way of the Mourner,
was certainly becoming harder to manage.

Aurew's instinct in most situations was to save her allies from danger or
harm, from pain, and sometimes from themselves. Her tendencies were to do so
without fanfare or flash but with the demure grace of an elf. Elra, on the
other hand, shared concern that Aurew's altruistic duties as an Acolyte had
the potential to interfere with all the blessings that come with loss. They
would not learn to survive and become stronger if she shouldered every burden
in their place.

So Aurew went back out into the world and to the Fortress, and tried to be
more vocal about the suffering of others she took in their stead. It wasn't
easy, and neither were the reactions she received. She found that some didn't
even understand the nature of an Acolyte's gift and had no knowledge of how
it worked. Others, like Drissa, were very intuitive and at times would rebuff
this type of assistance. But more stunning were the situations, as with the
Captain, in which she took all of his lacerations, punctures, suffering only
to die in his place, without a single word of regret or even acknowledgement
from Knaor. It gave Aurew pause. Was it just her, or was this the way of all
Acolytes? She had much to consider.

Role

Chapter 11

It happened one day that Maran Drissa asked for Aurew's assistance with a
personal matter unrelated to the Fortress. Aurew had tried to glean some bit
of history from Drissa previously as to what drove her to pursue the Fortress,
but all Drissa could say was she was good at fighting and wanted to lend her
support against evil. In time they touched on religion, and Drissa was some-
what surprised to hear of Aurew's preferences. So it came as something of a
surprise to Aurew when Drissa requested Aurew's aid in reaching out to Lord
Rahsael.

Drissa, as it turned out, had a vast void in her memory. She remembered only
waking up face down in the dirt and shrubbery of the Vale of Arendyl. Beyond
this, all she had to go on was a strange book with dates from a future age
far beyond this one, as well as strange dreams or visions. And so Drissa
sought out Aurew, in hopes Lord Rahsael would assist them.

So Aurew met with Drissa in the Cathedral of Loss. She listened, perplexed at
the story unfolding but also recognizing one thing: Drissa wouldn't find what
she sought. They reasoned and devised plans, but Aurew told Drissa that she
should not hold onto the past so tightly, because it would keep her from her
present. Drissa's memories were lost, and she had become the intense, focused
warrior of light without them. If she regained them, what then? Would she
change? Be somehow less? Aurew cautioned against the path that walks backward
but instead to move forward. Perhaps for Drissa, the past was left in the
ether.

Role

Chapter 12

The immediately recognizable tang of blood oozed between Aurew's teeth, and
the desire to vomit followed with the same immediacy. She had tasted blood
before but the strong flavor and scent were often lost in the fray of battle.
This time, she had poised herself over the prostrate, ailing body of Durnot
trying to flee the village from her very allies. The blood pooled slowly as
it wept from his body in half a dozen places, and it was Aurew's duty to stop
it. To counsel, to guide, and as she learned with Audune, to sometimes end.

This ending came with the congratulatory words and pats on the back that the
Maran were oft known for, but Aurew found nothing to ease the disgust in the
pit of her stomach nor the back of her mind.

Unable to shake this feeling, she wrote a letter to the Fortress, calling
upon them to recognize the sacrifices made in the name of the Light, whether
personal, accidental, or perhaps as Aurew sometimes felt, unnoticed. Life
should not be taken without serious reflection, regardless of whether that
soul dwelled in the shadow.

It may have been the letter. It may have been Drissa's constant insistence
that Aurew would make a fine Cardinal someday. Lord Korsgaard came down from
the heavens to offer Aurew that very opportunity. She was hesistant and more
than a little embarrassed; she knew Kruggy had recommended Marrion for the
same position, and yet here she was being offered it instead. She accepted,
for she must have faith in the good Lords of the Fortress to make these
decisions. Yet she was certain Marrion would feel disappointment, for she
also knew of Kruggy's recommendation. As it were, she would see Marrion
very little after that.

Role

Chapter 13

"I am called away soon, unavoidably, for a matter of about three or four
weeks as the Gods might reckon time..."

Aurew read the letter again. Drissa had warned her in advance, and Aurew
suggested a more official letter might do the Fortress some good. It was this
very letter that Aurew held, its thick vellum crumpled and creased from her
compulsive folding and unfolding.

"Please rest assured that I have not abandoned you..."

But it did feel that way, at least a little. The Fortress felt empty without
Drissa's can-do attitude and constant fervor for action. Equally concerning,
it had become a war zone. The barbarians had wasted no time assaulting the
Fortress on a regular basis and were more brash in doing so without Drissa
around.

"Light be with you all, strengthen you and shelter you, and guide you along
your paths."

Aurew folded the letter again and tucked it back into her knapsack. There
would be hard times ahead without one of their brightest beacons. And what
if Drissa never returned? Aurew knew the fear was justified; people dis-
appeared all the time. As Aurew saw it, she had two options: she could be
the light, or she could teach everyone to see in the dark.

She was a little afraid of both.

Role

Chapter 14

"I cannot promise that it will make you happier or more fulfilled. And I,
most of all, cannot promise that you won't cry."

It was a lot for Aurew to take in, and yet not surprising in the least. She
knew from the beginning this would be a precarious ledge to walk upon, that
it may more bittersweet than anything. But she also knew she had come so far
down this road - perhaps too far to turn her back on it now. And when the
Lord Rahsael himself appeared, Aurew was struck with a mixture of anxiety and
terror.

She felt herself curtseying in his general direction, but could not help but
feel awkward and fidgety. She stared hard at the ground until his statuesque
form moved in invitation of... a hug?

"You enjoy hugs, do you not?"

Aurew hesitated. Did she? She kept most individuals at arm's length unless
she was trying to comfort someone in the shape of a cooshee or one of her
other animal spirits. She had hugged Elra, of course, but Elra needed it.
But then Elra as an aspect of the Lord was... perhaps all the same.

As the walls of the Cathedral started to creep closer and closer in Aurew's
mind, she changed into a cooshee to avoid the awkward idea of embracing her
Lord. Cooshee nuzzles are safe! That did not seem to be enough for the great
Lord Rahsael. She felt the arms wrap around her, eliciting chills and shivers
from within. And then, suddenly, she was inked with the darkened lantern that
adorned all his children.

He ushered her through the curtain, deeper into the Cathedral. He spoke in
strangely soothing tones about the Mysteries, and progress, and her growing
connection with him. Aurew was not soothed, however; his presence was strong
but also sickly and pained, not at all like she imagined an all-powerful god
to be. But she was his to serve; eyes, ears, heart, breath, soul. Whatever it
might mean.

Role

Chapter 15

"You have the knife and cup?"

Aurew's hands quaked as she fished the knife and ewer from her belongings
and awaited further direction from her Lord.

"Give me the drinking vessel."

She was afraid she would let the rock crystal ewer slip from her fingers
and shatter across the mosaic. Flustered, she mumbled excuses and apologies
to prepare herself for presenting such a mundane vessel. He took the ewer
and poured the water onto the ground.

"You will bless the vessel."

Aurew watched the last of the water spill through the grate. The only way
she knew to bless a vessel was one filled to the brim with water, and that
opportunity was quickly slipping away. So she asked.

"A small sacrifice of something precious."

She knew immediately what this meant, of course. The thin furrow in her brow
betrayed that knowledge. She was embarrassed both by what precious little she
had to give, and the simple fact that she did not view herself that way. After
an uncomfortably long pause, she stated the painfully obvious.

"I do not have anything precious with me. At least not to me."

Aurew suppressed the chill that ran through her as Lord Rahsael's icy cold
hand held Aurew's own. She struggled against the involuntary clenching her
fingers cried for, to keep the warmth from escaping. It would pale in
comparison to how she felt after his next words.

"Trace the knife across your palm. Bless the ewer with your blood."

She swallowed hard. A sacrifice of herself to her sweet, blessed Lord. This
was more than the mark he gave her. This was serious. It was her turn to give
back. Whether she wanted to do it, she did not know. But she needed to.

Unsteady hand clutching the sacrificial blade in white-knuckled fashion,
Aurew sliced through the fleshy part of her palm. She attempted to suppress
the wave of dizziness that accompanied the sharp pangs that stretched from
palm to elbow. Blood spilled forth with surprising speed like paint casually
tossed upon the alabaster canvas of her skin. Lord Rahsael held the ewer
beneath, collecting the literal lifeblood.

"Through Loss, we learn, each scar a sacred lesson. It writes upon us, as
we write upon the world."

And as quickly as it began, it was over. He traced a finger over the fresh
wound and sealed it with a blackened scar. He raised the ewer to his lips,
drank, then proffered the vessel to Aurew. She accepted it, studied it,
and with her heart, soul and blood in hand, followed him into the unknown.

Role

Chapter 16

She had turned to leave the Cathedral, shaken at the vision of her very God
crumbling to dust at a single touch. Not everything was as it seemed, nor was
there any safety net or guarantee. Perhaps someday she would be gone too,
just like that. It gave her pause... and then paws.

The Monster stirred before her, its features lost in the wealth of treasure
that tumbled forth. It reminded Aurew a bit of the gibbering polyp, like a
puzzle whose pieces were jammed together in all the wrong places. Her timid
nature reacted and she shrunk back until she thought maybe this too needed
counseling or guidance. She would see it how she wanted, the good Lord had
shown her that much. She slowly began to reach out, stopping short as she
heard music to her ears - barking!

The sound set her heart to racing, and she quickly took to the cooshee form
herself, barking madly at the Monster. The sound was distant but became more
distinct and clear until Aurew was certain it was her beloved Audune. With
what was certainly a calculated movement, the Monster shifted and sent a
canine skeleton tumbling to the ground at Aurew's paws.

Just like that, the hope of being reunited with Audune, however childish and
unrealistic, vanished. The ache of loss consumed her again, as if it had been
mere minutes and not centuries since his passing. At a loss for words, Aurew
threw her head back and sang Audune his death song.

Role

Chapter 17

The apparition's movement north barely registered amidst Aurew's renewed
sorrow, but once it did, she knew. Her own canine form bolted upright and
followed the ghostly dog into the Cathedral of Loss, joy propelling her
own tail and body into a wiggly, bouncy spring.

Aurew and Audune frolicked and played as only two cooshees can. She spoke
with him as she never could before, in the language of his people.

"My dear old friend, how do you fare in the afterworld?"

Audune was confused by this question.

"Afterworld? I watch you! I always watch you!"

Aurew nearly burst as reassurance and comfort washed over her; the notion
that Audune's spirit watched over her was something she had secretly hoped
but not expected. It also made her realize how lonely her existence had
become.

"I miss you so much, Audune. Nobody understands me like you do."

Cooshees being cooshees of course, Audune did not want to sit down and have
a heart to heart conversation about Aurew's struggles. He wanted to play! And
so she obliged him. They chased each other around the Cathedral for hours,
until he proposed they go back to the Vale to continue their adventures.

That first step into the foggy shallows, nothing seemed amiss. Then Audune
stopped abruptly.

"You cannot go, can you," Aurew barked to him.

He began to sink down into the water, paddling wildly in a struggle to stay
above the surface. But he couldn't stay. She knew he couldn't. And he sank,
disappearing like the setting sun for which he was named.

Aurew shoved her own muzzle into the water, rooting around in the cold, black
waters but knew she would find nothing. Alone again, she returned to her two-
legged shape and stood in the fog, taking in the bittersweetness of the event.

"It was good to see you old friend. However briefly."

Aurew stayed until the sun dipped below the horizon and trudged away.

Role

Chapter 18

The unmistakably odd-looking elf that sat across from Aurew was tired. Drissa
had been in an irritable mood more often lately, and it worried Aurew to no
end. Here was the heart and soul of the Fortress, worn down by the bickering
of soldiers and her inability to keep them from walking away or tumbling
astray. Aurew listened, offered solace and advice when applicable. It was her
responsibility. So when Drissa asked that Aurew watch over her while she took
a short nap, she willingly obliged.

Aurew couldn't have known what would happen next, not really. She had pushed
it out to the farthest reaches of her mind, because she already felt ashamed.
The conversation with Lord Rahsael, the hastily concocted plan of the box and
the blade, the lives in the balance and her own fate in the hands of those
she called brothers and sisters.

As Drissa detailed the vision she dreamt, Aurew listened in concealed shame
as the she spoke of an ancient box of whitesteel, a single blade within. A
blade that could, perhaps, bring peace - and violence. But Aurew knew it did
not, because it was all a lie. A fallacy to guide them to a new perspective?
Better choices? She somehow justified it at the time, thinking the Fortress
would... What was it she told herself? But she had been thinking abstractly,
not how it would affect each individual. Certainly not how it would affect
Drissa.

Now Aurew saw the deception for what it was - another burden to work through,
another line upon her face, another worry for the Captain.

An epiphany struck Aurew, immediately followed by a wave of self-loathing and
sorrow. She was Drissa's Audune, and she had done something Audune never
would; placed conditions on unconditional love. Aurew had taken their
increasingly important friendship, the closeness, the shoulder she offered,
and pulled the rug out from under it.

But there were no floorboards under this rug for Aurew. No dirt, no solid
ground. Not even the cold, unforgiving stone of the Fortress.

Only the frantic paddling of a forlorn cooshee's paws, as she sank into the
foggy shallows.

Role

Chapter 19

"There is something we have to talk about."

The large green and brown spotted dog stared dutifully at her Mistress,
thoughts swirling. She was a smart cooshee, of course. She had sensed what
came next long before the moment ever arrived. She had a good nose and an
even keener sense of spirit. The decay was there, but it was different.
Before the words ever broke the silence, Aurew knew this would be the last
walk Drissa ever took her on.

"Must you be in form?"

With great reluctance, Aurew reverted to her two-legged elven form.

"It is how I am most comfortable. It is where I retreat to when I am afraid."

And she was afraid. Terrified. The day had come.

"I know, and this won't be a comfortable conversation. But some are like
that." She continued to speak as they stepped through the vale. "I've been
feeling something pulling me away for a while now. I should have probably
gone before this rough stretch, but I wanted to resist it."

On and on and on, she spoke. "I know you'll carry on, when I'm gone" and
"I'll be with you, always. You'll be strong." Supportive things that Aurew
could not fathom in the moment. All she could see was her world crumbling
all around. She wanted to scream, to beg her not to go. Her work was not
over. The Fortress needed her. Aurew needed her. But like so many centuries
before, Aurew had learned that sometimes you must let them go. It would hurt
like hell, and that ache would never truly go away, but she could not deny
Drissa that right. Drissa would be okay. Mourning was the mantle of the
living.

When words finally came to Aurew, they were not enough. They felt empty as
place where her heart had been, shattered into a thousand pieces that would
never be restored to its original shape, size or strength.

"I do not know what I would have been without you. What I will be without
you." Aurew paused, then, "You are the heart that beats. I am not ready for
it to stop."

"I know. There will be other hearts, although perhaps none the same. We both
knew it would end some day, my friend. Don't let it break you."

Aurew struggled to hold herself together. "I have stood by you like no other,
loved you like no other, befriended you like no other. I do not know if it
will break me, but I will certainly be lost."

"You know I feel the same way about you." Drissa sighed. "I could not leave
without seeing you one last time, if this is to be the last."

Role

Chapter 20

And as Aurew followed her back to the Fortress, to stand before the very
Watcher they had sworn to defend, tears finally rolled down her cheeks. They
embraced one last time, and Aurew looked on as Drissa placed her possessions
in the chest.

"All my love, Aurew."

"And mine to you, Drissa."

With nothing more to give, Aurew took Drissa's suffering onto herself one
final time.

Drissa's form seemed to flicker once more as she spoke her final
words. "It's all right, my friend. Be at peace. I will always be with you."

And then she was gone.

Role

Chapter 21

As tears struck the gray flagstones in the altar room, a great keening tried
to claw its way from Aurew's throat. Her skin crawled and quivered with an
inconsolable grief, and suddenly the Fortress walls closed in upon her. She
fled to the only other sanctuary she had left: The Cathedral. Habit guided
her through the literal fog of the shallows and she collapsed in an empty,
sobbing heap at the edge of the bottomless well. She wanted nothing more but
to crawl in upon herself and disappear, but she felt a cold hand rest heavily
upon her shoulder. Aurew looked up to see Elra, the Mourner.

"Oh, Aurew."

Aurew stood and turned to the lady, and bawled against her shoulder.

"It's all right, my child."

"I know I... should embrace it but..." Aurew struggled to beat back the sobs
long enough for speech. "It just hurts so much."

Elra stood, implacable against the onslaught of Aurew's tears. "It does. I
know it does. It is like the sea outside, isn't it? Stormy, vast, deep..."

"Unfathomable," Aurew whispered.

"But fathom it you must. These feelings. This grief. Dig deeper. You are
staring at the bleeding wound. But what was the blade?"

Aurew pulled back, trying to gain composure, trying to find understanding.

"Love."

"Is that love gone?"

It wasn't, Aurew knew. She shook her head, but it did not make her feel the
despair any less.

"What is gone, then?"

Drissa was gone, but that was not what Elra was nudging her toward. "I... I
understand. But... I am not ready. For now, it is simply too fresh, too raw.
All I can feel is the pain."

The effort of suppressing her own crying momentarily distracted Aurew from
the appearance of her sweet Lord Rahsael. He stood before her and silently
bade her to follow. And they spoke of secrets, of Loss, the tears falling
at every mention of Drissa's name. And by the end, she knew what she had
to do; "It will be left to you to inform Thera about what it has lost," he
had said. "Baptize others with your tears, my child." It would not quell
the grief that threatened to drown her every breath, but it was a place to
start.

Role

Chapter 22

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

-From "The Second Coming", W.B. Yeats

Role

Chapter 23

It gnawed on Aurew's brain, what Lord Thaedan had said. All Aurew knew was
that Drissa was not here. But was she... somewhere else? "Time had ever
governed that one's path, even when young... I strongly suspect she fights
the darkness still. Only, not in our reality."

The ticking of a clock. The beating of a heart. The slow thwump-thwump of a
tail. All of these things seemed to move as one, and then stop. Bits and
pieces began to float to the surface of Aurew's memories, bubbling up through
her grief-shrouded fog.

Some three centuries earlier, she sat with Drissa in the Cathedral square,
incredulous and skeptical.

"The title is, 'Stardate 07916.257 (62nd Age)'", Drissa read. "So maybe a
sailor's log? But the 62nd age part is the, uh, perplexing thing." She
continued. "It goes on from there, contains a pretty rousing speech. It
sounds like a Maran wrote it, really."

Even as Aurew sat in the present, she echoed the words Drissa had said those
many years ago: "Soldier of the Light... today is the day of days. You are
about to embark..." The words caught in her throat. "Through the portal, the
past awaits. You will bring security for elves in ages past, present, and
future."

Aurew was disbelieving back then, but tried to be supportive. "Ah, some kind
of portal similar to how we travel to the past. But in this scenario, we are
the past?"

"Aye, exactly what I've been thinking lately." Drissa hesitated. "Well,
maybe? It all sounds rather ridiculous, like a bad joke."

It all felt like a bad joke to Aurew, especially now that she was gone. But
what if it was true? What if Drissa was somewhere ahead, waiting for her?

Role

Chapter 24

Her wet nose pressed against the flagstones of the Fortress, the cooshee
inhaled deeply. It was becoming habit now; the constant search for Her scent.
It grew fainter by the day, but mere weeks could not disperse the presence
that had been within the Fortress for centuries. The cooshee's tail swept
the stones, signally the briefest of successes. The Watcher's voice boomed
a welcome; her ears perked up hopefully, the tail wag intensifying. But as
always, a hope soon dashed. And just like that, the scent dissipated again.

Stretching her legs in earth-devouring strides, the green and brown dog
bolted from the Fortress, through the mountains, through cities, roads, to
the desert and into the caves. She was more than ever a creature of habit;
with none to take her for walks, she found herself visiting those same
places, her search continuing. She collected valerian roots like they were
going out of of style and hoarded them - all but one handful, which she kept
separate. The last roots Drissa had left behind.

Her teeth and claws rendered every Talshidar thief she could find, over and
over. It was, perhaps, the first inkling that something was wrong. The act
was empty, her mind vacant as she slew them. As the roots appeared, a quick
look over her shoulder crushed her; no one followed her, no one to pick them
up and tuck them away. No one at all. But she kept at it. The cooshee was
certain that Drissa would need them, when she returned.

And when her pads blistered from pacing and running, she flew to the dark,
lonesome forests of the north, just out of reach of the dire wolves. As she
stood on the path, it was like she was no longer alone. Drissa's smile cut
through like the morning sun. She spun around, frantic, searching. Then the
scent hit her, as strong as ever. And then her laughter. Gods, her laughter.

Surely, Aurew had gone insane. She stayed awake for days there, waiting for
some sign. Merelith came to share the sorrow as the shadows lurched and
danced. Aurew slipped into an agonizing slumber. At first, the dream was
beyond joyful; Drissa was there, smiling, speaking in muffled, muted tones.
Words Aurew could not make out. Then it turned from joy to nightmare; Drissa
embraced her, only to pull away with a jolt, a gaping, bloody wound to her
abdomen, the bloodied dagger in Aurew's hand. Drissa collapses in a lifeless
heap, with Aurew's own Audune lapping up the blood.

And then the sensation of falling... a sensation that did not recede, even
after Aurew woke, nor the years that followed.

Role

Chapter 2

As I grew to find my place in this two-leg household, so did my Mistress.
Babark and Baboof were gone most of the time, visiting the palace and center
of the tree city of stick-like two-legs. They left early in the morning with
boundless energy and returned dragging their feet. I didnt care about them
though. I only had eyes for Her. And while they were gone we played and
played and played. She could get around just fine on Her two legs now, but
I appreciated that She would still humor me often, bowing in the language of
my people on all fours. We frolicked Outside on the outskirts of the two-leg-
tree-city. We were a great team, sniffing out bugs and rabbits and making
them run. She didnt like it when I would drink out of a fetid puddle or roll
my glorious coat in goat manure, but I did love making Her face wrinkle up.
Sometimes She would fall and cry, and bury Her face in the ruff of my neck.
Her pain made me sad, but I secretly loved that I was Her great comfort. She
had no other friends, not even other two-legs. Two-legs have cat-like stupid-
ity sometimes.

Role

Chapter 5

Backstory Summary:
Aurew Rissu was born Aurelia Rissu El'duindil to parents Yvalle and Llarundel
within the city of Darsylon. Yvalle (Babark) was a handmaiden and seamstress
to Lady Elaeriella, while Laurandel was a songsmith at the service of King
Adrianar. Their jobs afforded them great luxuries but little time with their
daughter. To keep Aurelia company, they provided her with a pet cooshee which
they named Audune, elvish for sunset. She has chosen to go by Aurew as this
is how Audune greeted her, and has adopted the secondary name of Mel'Audune
meaning Friend of the Sunset.

Traits:
Given her solitary childhood and the losses she has incurred, Aurew is a bit
reclusive and shy, choosing the company of silence as she finds her footing
as an individual in Thera. While she does not consider herself xenophobic,
her upbringing was primarily in the presence of her faithful dog, and thus
she finds most two-legs to be lacking compassion by comparison. Like other
high elves, she is beholden to the Light.

Ethos:
She is chaotic by nature, but not in a driven sense. She lacks the desire to
tear down order in the world, but has a need to let herself experience and
explore the lands (and her place within them) without limitation. The only
rule she regularly abides by is Light above all.

Sphere:
Aurew is most drawn to the sphere of Fate. She believes that things happen
for a reason, even if those reasons don't always make sense or present them-
selves to her. She believes within Fate's guidelines she has the ability to
make choices, but the ultimate result is out of her hands.

Class:
Aurew has chosen to study shapeshifting, partly because of her discomfort
around other sentients. Staying in the form of another animal allows her to
maintain a level of security and avoids unnecessary conversation. However,
the main reason to her pursuit is to adopt the form of the cooshee. Her
greatest fear is that death will not allow her to be reunited with the
beloved cooshee Audune because elves go to the Azure Fields. By becoming
a cooshee, she hopes to bridge the gap.

Aspirations:
First and foremost, Aurew will explore herself. While it's conceivable she
could partner with Outlander, Fortress or Entropy, the path is yet unclear.
Fate will play a hand in this, and she may be influenced by those she meets.
She will seek out Rahsael the God of Loss to help her reflect upon the losses
in her life, though to what end remains to be seen.

Role

Chapter 4

More years passed. My eyes were rheumy and foggy. My joints ached but I got
around with Her help. She cared for me, made sure I had the softest blankets
and helped me up on the bed so I could still sleep at Her feet. I could smell
the decay again. I think She could smell it too. She took me for walks Out-
side under the trees. She talked about the blue fields again, but I couldn't
tell Her that I was not a stick-two-leg and might not get to romp there. I
found a rabbit femur and showed it to Her, and buried it for safekeeping. I
tried to tell Her sometimes we have to give up the things we care about most,
for their own good. Like me. She seemed to understand, because She was my
best friend. When my pain and suffering became too great, She took me to the
temple's priest, and they prayed and let the decay take me. And as I closed
my eyes for the last time, I remember Her sweet breath as She sobbed into my
scruff.

Role

Chapter 3

She grew older. Her scent became different when She had Her first two-leg heat
cycle. She became more tempestuous like the street strays that lack manners
and snap for no reason. Around that same time, Babark also smelled different.
Like decay. I have a good snout for decay, being a cooshee. It's everywhere.
Leaves, rabbit carcass, soil. I think I knew before Babark and Baboof knew.
Babark grew weak, thin, frail. Baboof cut Babark's long golden hair as she
could no longer groom herself. My Mistress cut Her hair to be closer to
Babark, to show strength and support. I think She could smell the decay too.

They would spend long hours in the food part of Inside, barking at each other.
Soft barks. More like boofs. They talked about fields of blue flowers where
Babark would go, where all the stick-two-legs go once their bodies stopped
moving. Then one day it finally did.

My Lady took it hard, but Baboof took it dark. Two days later, the other
two-legs found him slumped against a tree, decaying and returning to the
soil. I guess he couldn't stand the idea of waiting centuries to return
to Babark. I've said it before: two-legs have cat-like stupidity sometimes.

My Mistress grew reclusive and sad, but always sought my comfort. She would
whisper things to me: secrets, hopes, fears. She would wet my fur with Her
tears until Her eyes grew dry, and then start again. I snuffled at Her ears
and licked Her salty cheeks, but mostly I just stayed by Her side to be what-
ever She needed. She was my world.

Arena Statistics

Edges

Flaws

Racial Edges

Class Edges

Edges

Mob Deaths

Timeline

Leveling History

PK Deaths

PK Wins

PK Wins

PK Wins

Title History

Skill List

PK Statistics

PK Gank-O-Meter

Immortal Comments

Immortal Comments

Immortal Comments

Role

Chapter 1

I was just a young pup when I first met Her parents. They were bland; very
traditional elves in the most traditional ways. They reminded me of giant
walking sticks. I think one of them was a maid or seamstress, always carry-
ing heavy stacks of folded fabrics. The other a songsmith with an odd pen-
chant for melancholy tunes (which I thoroughly enjoyed - they were good to
howl along with!). Regardless, they plucked me away from the rest of my
siblings and mum one day and took me home. I didnt truly understand that
word until I met Her. My Mistress. My Lady. She was splendid.

The two elder elves, who I called (with affection) Babark and Baboof, carried
me in their arms back to the tree dwelling that provided shelter. In time I
would know this as Inside. They placed me on the creaky floorboards in
their elevated tree loft and barked at each other, then at something else in
the other room. And She appeared.

She was beautiful. In cooshee years She must've been roughly ten years old,
although I've come to understand two-legs count them differently. She tried
to walk upright like Babark and Baboof, but struggled and navigated Her way
towards me on all fours instead. I was ecstatic! Someone with whom I could
share my vantage point of the world. She giggled and cooed at me. Scratched
my ears and my neck. I forgot entirely that I'd been abruptly taken from my
own family just hours before. She was my world. I harooed and boofered at
Her and She giggled Her way into hysterics. After much romping and scamping,
Babark and Baboof took us into Her room, and I slept like the proudest little
pup in all the world curled up at the foot of Her bed. It would be the first
of many nights I would spend nuzzled against Her feet.