Sokde the Hand of the Unseen, the GodMommy of Voralian City

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Role

Chapter 6

On the outside, Sokde Maz'Nel is the epitomy of a little girl. While
impatient at times, she is supportive of her friends to a fault. Flirtatious,
silver tongued, and as strong a fighter as she is a talker, Sokde loves
entertaining and being around large groups of people.

However, on the inside, a broken girl lays unsure of her surroundings. Sokde
was born on the docks of Hamsah Mu'Tazz, spending most of her very early life
traveling in and out of the dreds of society. Until she was almost twenty,
she'd seen a gold coin once, ever.

While very personable and social, nothing of Sokde's past, family, or
personal history will ever be known to anyone but herself. Shadows to
shadows.

Role

Chapter 5

Joining the Heralds was a step out of the slums and into the up and up. Gold
had already started to pour in from many investments all over Thera. Thieves
and assassins were already starting to take notice. Sokde's skill with a pen
had never been so fast or so clean, and the same could be said of her
pickpocketing. Bags and girdles were being filled from adventuring, as well
as the pouch of more than one groupmate. One thief who will never understand
why a Necromancer, four ranks her junior, would carry nearly fifty gold on
his person. He didn't even catch notice of the theft once, and today was
joined by the pickpocket again in learning. If Assassins can move more lighty
on their feet with the lightness in their things, certainly it can be said
that the Necromancer was just be lightened to better defend himself.

Note to self. The Assassin and Necromancer I've traveled with since rank
seven just have now discovered that I am not of a dark heart as the two of
them are. Quite strange that it was never noticed and then caused such a
stir. Was it my being a Herald, or my blackjacking one of them when they
tried to overpower and outman an Elf? Mmm, I wonder. But, it was neither, and
it was only the Assassin using magical detection and happening to run into
me. Today, my mood if baffled and dazed... and also quite amused.

Role

Chapter 4

I've decided that the Heralds are lacking in almost every possible avenue. So
much information trades hands and lips that I find my mind swimming in it's
beauty constantly. However, the dedication that any of the Heralds seem to
have for updating the Lyceum is a parting fancy, and seems to only apply when
they feel it will make them look good. Disgusting. I suppose that I should
learn to pen things into the Lyceum if I can. I shall have to remember to
speak with Lady Iunna.

The bartender is a grumpy little svirfniblin, by his own admission lonely and
crazed. Despite all of the gifts that I'm being offered, I find myself pushed
away by his desire - mostly when it's discussed, the name of another woman
arises.

It's not that he's just a gnomely, creepy man that keeps me from showing
devotion. It's that, well. He's old. I know that sounds quite shallow, even
on paper, but I suppose I never claimed to be anything but.

My mother told me once: Marry for love or money, for both bring fruitful
ends. I'd rather not marry, or be courted. However, I seem to draw in the
most informal of companions that seek my attention.
Of course there are a few that my eyes linger on longer than is correct, I
suppose. An assassin, a thief. Neither of who's ideals I could follow for
more than a moment.

My highlight for the week:
That mage hunter that seems to be tailing me like a puppy seemed to want to
put on a impressive show against a few Magistrates. Now, if only he thought
for a moment I'd actually take a fifty gold bet against him, I'm not sure...
but I did. A good idea when making a bet over something, would be follow
through on your words.

"I bet I can kill this Anti Paladin and leave the city alive."

That's all well and good. So, why blackjack the thief? Needless to say, I
easily robbed his corpse in front of two magistrates who didn't say a word,
and then made my fifty gold for putting my money on the one of the three
elves I can stand to talk to for more than ten seconds. Good bet!

Role

Chapter 3

Well. Here it is. I've lived to my pinnacle in my guild. Yip. Forgive me if I
sound a little disingenuous about achieving my fifty-first rank, but hell...

Life at the Inn of the Eternal Star isn't much better than it was the last
time I recorded by opinion, history... whatever you'd like to call it,
anyway.

But before I get myself depressed, it's not like it's all discus ting, like
landing over in Grinning Skull and not having the energy to fly out or
anything... hardly that. Taxing, yes. Horrid, no.

I was trying to think of a number to write down of all the people that I've
literally told not to talk to me, but, I got lost somewhere around thirty
when a ranger walked by. Stupid rangers, always on the road.

I'm enjoying the entries for the Verse contest. I will be recommending a
number of poems and songs for being in the winning spot, as it were. I'm
currently banking my gold on An Ode to Burning Hamsah Mu'tazz, by Dyneli
Edehr, Fiene's A Rhyme of Rime, and Malthak's Brin the Merchant. I dislike
very much the poems of Pfendour, Foley, and Sarmantia.

The High Herald, my lovely Sila, is wonderful as always. Theroc is tolerable,
probably because I've been spending quite some time training and tend to be
in the bar mid-day, and him morning. I suppose it all works out the best for
us, and for patrons. That deep gnome has no shame. Frajalar, after
yesterday's havoc, is tugging quite heavily on my amusement, and I sat nearly
an hour without moving with him.

Thought of the Day: Random Gnomes who walk around shouting for you, not
knowing if you are there or not, just to smooth over a stupid assassin's
mouth... are rather nice.

Role

Chapter 2

It's been ages since I've been the only Elite within the guild at Voralian. I
wonder how much more I'll need to donate past fifteen hundred gold to make
the Patron see me? The other Elite ended his life soon after I'd passed his
donations, though I doubt that's the true reason.

The rumor from the Fortress is that one of our Heralds is darkness itself.
Not likely. Anyways, I told them the same thing Sila had told me to, even
before I'd spoken to her. He's a Herald. Not a Maran. So, now? Deal with it.
The young elf that I spoke to was a little harsh with raging war on the Inn
just on his behalf. No one realizes? Would be interesting, at least.

The Heralds, for their own parts, are working as hard as possible to update
the Lyceum for the benift of all. I'm glad that I'd gotten the Lotus Lady's
story from Mende before she died. I couldn't sit down and talk to any of
these new Marans for more than a minute. I heard that Zesam, the so called
Shooloo, is working on a story about the Diamond in the Rough, but I haven't
been able to confirm it with them, due to the fact that I've called them by
their birthname.... twice? Yes, twice I think. Anyways, it's a pretty name.
Much better than Shooloo.

That broken headed gnome still has his bounty of two hundred gold coins at
the bounty office in Galadon, but no one seems to want it. Like I told the
Shadow Lord... two hundred gold is almost an insult. If it were any kind of
real money, I'd just do myself in with something dramatic and claim it
myself. Hint, hint, gnome. Place more gold!

I got Crimson Scourged for the first time in my life by a vampire. Thanks,
Shalif. Heh. I love that bard. All those Imperials, really.

Counterfeiting hasn't served me as well as I'd assumed it would, though it's
probably just under the placing of not robbing anyone who's standing still
enough to notice the theft. Congratulations, Sokde. You didn't even reveal
yourself when you stoled that axe! Seems to be the likely story. I find
myself stealing coins more and more, because you'd be suprised how many
people actually pay attention to their gold and silver.

Trying to plan some events at the Inn now, managing the museum and updating
the Lyceum. Still waiting for word from Maethron for his event and what the
Dwarf and I need to cook. Speaking of which, the dwarf is quite pleasing,
though it's reminded me that we don't have a forge at the Inn. So, another
idea there.

All in all, I'm fairly pleased in-so-far with the pattern of my life, and
wouldn't feel so bad if I only live another week. It's becoming rather
schedualed, and I don't like it at all. Luckily, random occurances are what I
live for, and I've not given up the search for them... however redundant that
is....

Role

Chapter 1

Well, then. I just hit forty. It's really not so bad. It's been quiet lately,
so I don't have much news for you, my seldom confidant in just a few slips of
parchment. I was given the title of Godfather of Voralian only moments before
my birthday, as it were. Jirash was rude, but that's what I would expect
from a thief who's so mastered he sits in one place for years and years
without moving, eating, or drinking. Dedication, ahoy.

We're keeping it moving as Heralds, though since I've been alive there hasn't
been a single update to the Inn or to the Lyceum. Unfortunate. I'm still very
much enjoying myself. I don't know so much about a Herald Chef with a cronic
cough, but then I didn't let him into the kitchen. Gross.

We're still working on the carnival. If working means not doing anything of
course. I'll try to send out a missive later today to get everyone back on
their feet. So much to plan and it's actually not that hard!

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