Nikkili's Tale

Nikkili was born in the city of Luxur to parents in the lower caste of nobility. Her family held status barely higher than that of the merchant caste, their estate bordering the merchant quarter itself.

Raised by followers of a dark being, she was dedicated to service to the creature of night when her parents, in a moment of trouble, called on the creature. Taken in by priests of the order, she was herself destined to enter such service, and her later childhood was spent in instruction of her place and duty, and she grew cruel and arrogant.

Thriving under the flood of information, she repeatedly failed at the more priestly duties. Attempts to aquaint her with martial instruction proved successful, but it opened no abilities, and as she grew into womanhood, her prominence fell, until she found herself without status in the temple.

She was pretty, but not beautiful, her skin a dark caramel and emerald eyes contrasting the flame of her hair, which was never cut as sign of her dedication to the order. Still, she was not of a form to dedicate to the study of the flesh, while her aptitude for the study of the arcane was held worthless, as it was not a woman's place to understand the mysteries.

So without status and often alone, she delved into the mysteries further; she would justify herself in her own eyes, even if no other found her worthwhile. Her studies opened her eyes to avenues of power and she began seeking further into means to wrest her destiny into her own hands.

And finally, a place was found for her in the order. She was to be given to one of the priesthood, that her children might serve the order she herself had failed.

In desperation at the end to what little independence she had, Nikkli delved into knowledge beyond what she had dared, finally finding solace in the study of Xotli. A being served by those who craved knowledge, power and martial strength, the woman left the only city she had ever known, and began seeking out shards of knowledge in cities and places of dark power. In her room in the catacombs of Luxur, she left most of her hair, severed in demonstration of her abandonment of the way of her parents.

Her new study and sense of her place softened her, placing a layer of gentleness over the disdain she had shown for the world. A temper to match her hair lay under the surface, sometimes too close, and the fire she wielded was often used to grim effect in those early days, but as her power grew, her confidence likewise moderated her fury and entering her middle years, Nikkili was held a potent sorceress.

Her incessant thirst for power was cut short though when she fell into conflict with the slaves of the Black Ring, who she encountered in an ancient tomb on the border of Kush, and though she slew many, the forces against her were too great. She was thrown into slavery, taken half starved across the sands of Stygia, until she found herself in irons on a ship bound for the pirate islands of Tortage.

Nillili remains a conflicted soul. She finds herself guild ridden over appreciation of the world around her, unhappy at personal pleasure, for her early years had taught her that service was the only thing valued. She can be kind, but the temper within her is always there and flares up too easily for her own comfort. She craves self control and often feels shame when it fails. She finds pleasure in company shared though; her childhood alone makes her appreciate those who are willing to spend time speaking with her. Perhaps time will heal old wounds, but so far, the division she feels within herself has not allowed such healing.