User:Sunny Storms/Sunny Storms

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< Sunny Storms >
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Biography; Sunny Storms
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I study all the elements, but I wear a circlet that symbolizes my love of fire. The hunger of flames and their burning destruction demand respect. Fire immolates and clears the path for new growth.

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Trouble may follow, but I use my charm to overcome it. I'm charming. No one can resist me when I'm at my best. I know just what to say to lighten the mood or bolster courage.

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I was raised among the among the nobility - I grew up among the nobles, including my friend Lord Faren, who can trace their ancestry back to ancient kings. I received an excellent education, am well versed in courtly graces, and understand the responsibility that comes with privilege.
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One of my biggest regrets is that I've never searched for my true parents. When I was an infant, I was abandoned at an orphanage. A kind couple adopted me and became my family. However, I've always wondered about my real parents.

Biography Grenth.png
Everyone said I was blessed by Grenth when I was young. Grenth is the god of darkness, ice and death. His acolytes know that the veil between the worlds is thin. Death does not frighten me. Even the darkest nights give me comfort because Grenth watches over me.
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1303 AE, Divinity's Reach, Canthan District

In the veil of the fallen night, a mysterious woman carefully dashed away from the safety of her house and spouse. She was perfectly aware of the many dangers even Divinity's Reach held at night, albeit her mind was set on something more important, more pressing even compared to any trouble she might face on her path. In her arms she cradled a single baby, sound asleep, oblivious to the shocks which travelled into the arms upon every footstep. Surrounding the baby completely were little branches and leaves, which gave off a soft glow. It was a soothing glow and not a single branch had grown to hurt the baby it surrounded so persistently. The woman was fully aware of this disadvantage and had used many blankets to avoid detection from afar, but completely hiding what she carried along was impossible. Regardless of all her attempts she was spotted at an early stage. Being followed by a hooded figure that would appear a mere shadow, even from a few feet away. It followed her throughout the night, carefully sneaking its way after her. But this hooded figure was not the only one interested in the woman. A middle-aged man also ran after the glow through the silence of the night.

She passed underneath the Balthazar High Road with a rapid pace, into the Ossan Quarter where many Elonian refugees had answered to their biological clocks, much to her relief. There was no point fearing detection in this area, it was common for refugees to stick to their own districts and communities. Yet what she was still not aware of was the fact she was being followed by the man and the hooded figure. Equally, the man was not aware of the hooded figure either. But what made matters worse, the figure was perfectly aware of both targets. Motives unknown, but even when the man upped his dashing into a sprint, no actions were taken from the shadows. Soon, though not until nearing the Salma District, the woman had taken notice of one of her pursuers. As soon as she passed underneath Grenth High Road she took a left and hid along the walls. To avoid being seen she faced the wall, further covering the glow. It worked. The man passed by and came to a halt slightly ahead. He wanted to call out to her, but that would draw attention, surely. He could not work out where the woman had ran off to, nor could he determine any moving shades in the distance. With his mind resonating "she has to be close by" he continued looking around on the spot. Nothing to be seen or heard. Crestfallen he sank to his knees.

The woman snuck a peek over her shoulder, watching the man from her hiding place. She knew exactly who that man was and why he was following her. She wanted to run up to him, tell him he should go home. Tell him he put himself at an immense risk, but even before she could finish the trail of thoughts it had happened. A shadow had approached the man at blinding speed, a muffled scream and the sound of blood splashing on the floor. Something glistering in the darkness, presumably coins, and the shadow had disappeared again. It was flawless.

As she stood there, neck craned, staring at the ordeal she was overcome with guilt. This should not have happened. She wanted to scream for help, to run up and somehow help this victim of her personal predicament. She desperately wanted to. But the glow in the corner of her eye pressed upon her not to. Old blood spills for new blood, old makes room for new. To preserve herself and the baby she had carried in her arms all this time she had to abstain from being humane. She could not help this man, she never could have. Were she not on the run tonight, the man would have never followed along. He would have been sleeping safely within the perimeters of his home, all the way in the Canthan District. But what's done is done and as much as it hurt her, she had an unfinished job to fulfil. To get the baby she carried to the orphanage of Salma District. She closed her eyes and focussed on her ears. If she could hear even the weakest disturbance of the night-time ambiance, she would not move a muscle. Half a minute. A full minute. Five minutes passed. Nothing. Whether it was safe to head for the orphanage now was not guaranteed to be safe. If anything, this was her best chance. She stalked off along the shadows and crossed into the alleyways that spanned this district even more so than the crowded streets of her home district.

After a good ten minutes of carefully passing through various passages, roads and even a small marketplace she had finally reached the orphanage. She had heard of a door that always had light shining through the little window it held. If she knocked on that door and left the baby there, it would be ensured the orphanage would take care of it. Moving into the alleyway on the side, just around the corner there was such a door. She removed the blankets covering the glow which had dimmed slightly. When she fully bared the baby with its branches-and-leaves cradle she noticed half the structure had stopped glowing and had fully disappeared. Only the remaining half was still as bright as it had been before. But this was not the time to ponder miraculous events such as these. She put the cloth blankets on the floor and put the baby on top of it. After she had done that she made sure the cloth covered her baby as much as possible, to prevent it from feeling cold. Then finally she knocked on the door four times and quickly stalked off.

It was in the third alleyway she entered where she too was ambushed by the hooded figure, her cries subdued with a firm hand and a quick slice. But much to her surprise, not a fatal one. A whisper in her ear demanded to know where the baby was. With a defiant, though muffled sneer she refused to tell this person anything about the baby she protected with her life tonight. But the mysterious figure would have absolutely none of it. A second whisper ensured her that her child would not live to see another day and there and then the woman was murdered with a second slice.

At the orphanage the door had been unlocked and a cheerful voice of an elderly woman had sounded from behind it. Upon opening she noticed a crying baby fully covered in blankets. When she had finally removed most of the clothing she held in her hands a healthy baby girl, still crying vividly. The elderly woman took the girl inside and tried her best to make her feel comfortable, to stop him from crying. But the girl would not stop. Days upon days passed with the baby girl crying to no end.

The protective branches were Melandru's. One part dedicated to the father, one part dedicated to the mother. That night, both had died and the protection of the gods had been expelled completely.

The baby girl was named after his affinity to weep. Tears never-ending, his name for eternity;

Sunny Storms.