Elvira

Elvira's home in Grimney

I am a human.....mostly.
My parents brought me here, more years ago that I care to remember. My father had always wanted standing and power, my mother was a total fantasist. In the world in which I was born he was a road builder, she a poet, of sorts. The sort that only speaks with a glass of vodka in her hand and can't remember the words the next day. Somehow they came to hear of Grimney, a place where magic was real, and ordinary people could succeed beyond their wildest dreams. If only they could get us here. In a world of stale dreams the thought of Grimney became a shining light to them, and consequently to me. It was to be the best of holidays. The best of times. I went to sleep dreaming of golden skys and ponies and the sea.
And eventually, to their credit, they found a way. Through a man my father met in a pub. He was not a man, but at the time we were ignorant or his kind.
What an adventure this was to me! We left our small house in the middle of the night. I had only a small bag I had packed myself with my most prized possessions inside. My parents had the same. We thought to start again. A new life! They had sold everything they owned to pay for this trip. There was no going back.
And indeed everything changed that night. We drove to a field in the middle of nowhere and then we walked into a wood. It was a large wood. I was afraid. But my parents calmed me with whispers and hugs until finally the man stopped before a large tree. Then the man turned to us and said 'This passage demands blood. Will you pay?' 
My father nodded. Foolish, naive man that he was.
Three things happened. The man turned to the tree and spoke foreign words that made my skin ache. A thick mist appeared where the tree had been seconds before and a cracking sound rent the air around us. Then the man turned to us and ushered us forwards until we were standing with the mist lapping at our feet. He reached out as if the shake my fathers hand. As their hands connected he brought down a knife across my father wrist, severing his hand completely. 
For seconds he stood, my fathers dismembered hand still clasped in his, laughing as my father screamed and screamed.
'Passage paid' he laughed.
The he pushed my parents in to the mist. I ran after them.
My father didn't survive long. It was brutal and it broke my heart. No more thoughts of golden skies, my mind was fixed on vengence. 
If we lived. We had no currency. No possessions. No friends. Eventually my mother and I were taken in my a elderly couple with a large farmstead. They were kind enough as long as we worked from sunup to sundown. But my mother was broken. She died within a year. I didn't respond well. So young to have so sad a heart
And so I was quickly tenured, for a good price, to a powerful sorcerer as his Gathering Girl. This was a euphamistic description for slave. Fetch, carry, perform; with the occassional reward for good behaviour and a spell or too taught if he was in an expansive mood. Not that he was cruel. He wasn't. He was a considerate master and I a valuable possession. I was fed, clothed, kept warm. Sometimes he would tell me stories. Oh the possibilities he opened up before me! So I listened and I worked and I learnt and vengence passed out of my heart like puss from a wound. I had other desires to fill my soul with now. And so the years passed until I was child no more. And I soon discovered that I had a power that was all my own. My master was quite taken with me, happily, and I had aquired some skill. Enough to persuade him to let me start to help him with his works. 
Suffice it to say that I liked the magic and the magic liked me. I liked it enough that I was prepared to pay the price. For power doesn't come for free. And the price was so small. What need I ever of a husband? Or a wife come to that! 
Still, no need for celibacy, thank the Zoriat!!
Two years ago my Master moved to Farfell and brought me with him. (The monks there are suprisingly good company and drink a fine brew.)
Last year he made me Fyrsta Apprentice Sorcerer. We had quite a party. I am still shocked by his disappearence this past winter, but I'm doing my best to fulfil his obligations to the community. I wait for his return with impatience, for without him I can never become full sourcerer. Oh, practically, yes. But to be recognised as independant I must be verifed by my tutor. Yet there are some dullards that think I killed him. Indeed, there was so much malicious rumouring by some that I had something to do with the disapperance of my Master; that the monks were unsuprisingly, uncomfortable to have me remain at Farfell alone. So I took myself a Gathering Boy and I now reside near Darkwood Forest. It irks me that my Gathering Boy is recently lost, but I will replace him shortly. After all I am obligated to pass on the kindness that was shown to me by my Master. Boy or girl though I haven't decided.
And there's The Covern of course. Like points on a wheel, or combined strength comes through our differnences. A girls night in is not for the fainthearted but always rewarding! As long as we have Nydas there to balance our...appetites. It delights me how she shines like a star, and shrouds the darkness within her. Tanza and I, not so much shrouding. 
If you're interested in a casting, or need something harder, or just like your day to have an exciting edge to it, I can often be found at the Tavern in the evenings. A glass of Amber is always welcome

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