Rogue Jewel's History

Curiosity's Cost

   Jewel flits onto your shoulder and pokes you in the eye. "I believe you are inquiring of my origin simply to assure yourself that there are no others of my nature heading your way." Jewel smiles slyly and slowly shakes her head. "Rest easy. I am not a product of sprite tradition. My bitterness was acquired from the influences of others." Jewel raises her eyebrow and looks deep into your eyes, as if searching for something.

   "I am a sprite from the Gardens of Delight. I grew up loved in the nurturing environment of Mrs. Brander's gardens. Life was peaceful among the fields, and the bees from Mr. Crombie's hives gave us plenty of entertainment. My bedtime stories included tales of Eris and Cassandra, two legendary sprites whose good deeds had brought them glory and fame. They were the pride of our community. These were the stories that changed my life." Jewel lets a deep breath escape her and a far away look creeps onto her face.

   "I was enticed by these tales. They were proof that there was more to life than making Brander's Bliss. I became dissatisfied throwing stones at the adventurers, and now wanted to join them. My desires began to separate me from my friends and family and I became an outcast. I spent my time alone on the outskirts of Kegvale, exploring and dancing on the edge of what was considered safe. I began staying out until the morning dew shimmered in the expectation of the sun. I hid in the pockets of travelers and strayed to the very limits of the village, listening and learning from them. I wanted to become so much more then I was. Still young and silly, I began my journey away from home one crisp morning, intending to make them all proud."

   "Tsk, tsk." Jewel sighs heavily and looks away. "This is where my dark days began."

    "I learned early that you can judge a man by the contents of his pockets." Jewel winks at you knowingly before continuing. "Those filled with gold will be robbed, those filled with junk will wander aimlessly, and those that are empty tend to die from unpreparedness. It was a lesson I learned while crawling away from many a dead traveler. I learned of skills I never knew existed, wondrous spells, hard hitting weapons, and men who fought with their hands and mind. I was a fool to attempt this journey with my abilities. The knowledge of making a fine liquor was not coming in handy. I began running and hiding to stay alive, but I had learned this a little too late. I was already hurt and starving." Jewel touches her neck unconsciously and gently rubs on a scar. "I knew I was dying. Death had defeated all the travelers I had known, and now it was speaking to me. I gathered my strength and threw myself into the wind, which had been my only constant companion. I drifted into oblivion, but not out of death's grasp. When I awoke, I was on a dusty trail and my wings had been broken. So this would be my demise, another unmarked grave on an unknown road. How could I have come to this?"

   "It was Death that answered my question. Death was seductively whispering to me to me, telling me to give in, to rest for a moment. Ah, the sweet temptation....." Jewel closes her eyes and a smile crosses her face. After a moment, her eyes meet yours and she continues. "I was never one to listen to the voice of reason." She chuckles softly. "I would not give in so easily. I needed another chance. And I could hear that last chance approaching. I could feel the ground shaking under the hoofs of distant travelers coming down the road. I peered into the dusty cloud and waited for my defining moment."

    "I turned to face my fate, and held my arms outstretched to embrace my choices. I fumbled for a single second and then held fast to what had crashed into my path. I had grabbed a boot lace and I literally held on for dear life. I scrambled up and climbed until my bloodied hands would no longer respond to my wishes. I fell into a back pack and I remember nothing else of that journey."

    "I awoke to the smell of strawberries and aged pressed plants. I rummaged through the pack until I found them and ate all I could. I remember hearing crowds of people, and the sounds of horses passing. I also remember the first time I smelled the city. It was sour to my nose, and not the rich scent of dirt and flowers that I had know from Kegvale. My traveler entered a quieter and cooler area. The air was damp and I could hear an echo about us. Suddenly he removed a book from a pack, and took me with it. I could hear the book land on the stone flooring with a solid thud, and I landed hard into a rancid puddle next to it. The smell here was overwhelming. My traveler continued down a corridor and I never saw him again. I learned later in life his name was Lonewolf and I never did thank him for that ride." Jewel shrugs offhandedly and continues without pause. "When I opened the book, it read, ' Welcome to Moorgate.' I had made it to the fabled city and had beat the odds." Jewel's smile fades as she remembers a thought. "There are still others out there that are not as lucky as I am, you know. They are still looking for their chance, dying and fading away." Jewel mutters some words in Sylvan. "I hope they find what they are searching for."

   Jewel unpacks her dirk of stabbing and picks at her nails. "Now that I had arrived, I began thinking about how much I wanted to go back home, and began to plan my return. Little did I know." A bitter laugh spills forth, and Jewel takes a long drink from her mug of ale. From the look on her face it is apparent that is all of the story you will be hearing today.

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