Mordelain
08-20-11, 08:00 AM
Name: Mordelain Saythrou
Age: 30yrs
Gender: Female
Race: Tama (Humanoid)
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 155llbs
Homeworld: Junkyo
Religion: Nihilist
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Languages: Common, Runic, Basic Fallien
There are many worlds beyond yours. Each is just as brilliant and just as perilous. If the truth is told though I have walked on them and through them, I cannot fathom how many may there truly are through the infinite expanse of the multi-verse. One imagines one can never know. One imagines one will never be so fortunate to see all of creation in one single lifetime. I have had the fortune of viewing what is named in the ancient tongue The Kalithrism, the nine worlds that were anchored together before your petulant Thayne and mortal deities even became aware of their own existence.
Before the seas boiled there was Petra, the City of Eternity. Through its igam ogam heights and organic broad walks the wisest sages of the traverse discussed the many facets of reality. Along its narrow corridors a gentle wind carried the scent of blossoms. It was there, before the Cataclysm that I learnt all that I know and heard all that I have heard worth hearing. I walk its lonely streets in quiet contemplation when the sun is set, wavering in the brink of madness for the lament of days gone by.
Before the skies the formed there was Ixias, the Raging Furnace. In that strange place, all the fires of all the worlds’ burn fiercely. Gravity and time bend in chaotic melee in vortexes so vast they would sweep away the very fabric of Althanas in a single heartbeat. The once vibrant cities of industry that nestled themselves in cages of magic still linger in the firestorm, but only a few daring refuges dwell in the warm and rusted catacombs. They wait fetidly for salvation from the endless, scouring flares that lapse against their citadels of sorrow.
Before the animals spawned there was Breen, the People’s Republic. Its labyrinthine markets and endless roiling streets were a pinnacle of island life, forged on the common principle of kinship, togetherness and determination. Ruled by a queen of noble stature and untouched by war for millennia, when the Cataclysm raged, civil war did more harm than the fire and magical cracks ever could. Now its streets are quiet, silent, and empty, except for when I walk them in search of a memory to kindle my faith in humanity.
Before the birds sung there was Quant, the Mystic’s Market. From all the corners of the Kalithrism people gathered. Whatever you desired it could be found in the dense sprawl of shops, junk yards and canal boat traders. Every desire, every principle, every momentary weakness in the hearts of the many world’s peoples fluttered up and down the wooden jetties and in and out of the okiyas and bars without prejudice. Of all the worlds this was the place people came to lose themselves. Many could never leave such a paradise, and after the Cataclysm they were stricken with greed and tore one another apart. Its stands and stalls are stained with ancient blood and its rivers run red. Rumour is amok that all the artefacts still remain, if one is of sound enough mind to walk amongst the spirits of the dead…
Before the stones cooled and the mountains rose there was Hudde, the Nomad’s Realm. The rolling sands and the tombs buried in time were a place you could find yourself. Those exiled there discovered a new freedom asides their confinement. My ancestor’s spoke of this place with equal pleasure and pain, for the trials of the world walker ultimately end in a temple grave, a name engraved into the sandstone beneath the eternal limelight of a sickly, dying moon. If escape is what one requires, it is here that you shall find it.
Before the trees grew there was Bulganin, the Heart World. The surface of the Heart World is an eternal forest, a twisting swamp miasma home to trees so tall that vast cities dwell in them. Entire tribes live out their lives oblivious to the other cultures living a macrocosm away. When the cataclysm came many fled here, for the abundance of food was perceived as a blessing. To the soul of Bulganin the invaders had to be cleansed and the trees rose in defence and the tribes. Though primitive in many respects, they retreated to their cities and left the refugees to die beneath the rasp of blood vines and the crawling needle bushes. Only those who know where to walk can find safety into the open arms of Bulganin’s pantheon of elders, and only those who have learnt that trust can do so more than once.
Before the cities formed and you find iron, steel and bronze there was Zhuhai, the Capitalist Zenith. The world has but one continent at the heart of an endless sea, but it is covered by a mega city, walled and separate from the vast slums which surround it. When the cataclysm came the technology of Zhuhai allowed the city to survive and it became xenophobic and alienated from the remnants of the Kalithrism. The many hundreds of thousands that look up to its glass walls dream of the day when they can steal themselves or bribe their way into the sanctuary it offers, and into the stuffy, heartless bigotry it contains. I walk amongst those villages, and am brought to tears at the joy of seeing such survival and humbled love for one another in these dark times. What dark secrets remain in the city even I do not know, but perhaps one day, I shall find a path to walk into the heart of the bourgeoisie prison, and show them what horrors lie on the other side of that wall.
Before your world settled as it is today there were two sisters, Junkyo, the Menagerie of the Gods and Lela, the Dancing Moon. My home was a world made out of crystal and ice, a permafrost citadel sparkling and plentiful and happy. When the cataclysm came, the moon was the first to be destroyed and I heard the screams of my sisters for many decades after the energy tore it apart. When it struck my world, I had but a moment to look over my shoulder as I walked to safety, leaving the burning image of the temples and coliseums tumbling into ruin in my mind. We were the teachers and troubadours of the Kalithrism, but it was always our audiences’ right to have the last laugh at our expense. I cannot walk there, for nothing but dust remains, though I keep the world alive beneath every step, hoping to find answers one day.
Only after our world fell did yours become alive. For millennia daemons and elves fought, and no doubt for many centuries more man shall in his deity’s stead wage war. When I first fled from Junkyo it was to Althanas, the Cosmopolitan Battlefield that my fear of death and need of company sent me blind through the vortices to. Though I walk through the Kalithrism still, I have found a spark of familiarity here and though I scorn your ignorance of the worlds beyond your own, and fear for the implications of the cataclysm I can only wonder where my path shall wind and my journey lead if it is to these shores I fall in my darkest hour.
History: Mordelain was born on the lost world of Junkyo three centuries ago by the reckoning of Althanas’s chronology. She possesses the spark that allows transcendence from one world to walk through the vortex and step out onto another, a gift once held by the Junkyo kin alone. She witnessed the Nine and learnt its customs as way of initiation, and acted as a messenger between families lost in time and exiled by light-years. Judiciary and kings the Junkyo Troubadours could, under extreme duress take with them one soul and deliver them to a new land.
When she reached adulthood at the age of one hundred, Mordelain was permitted to travel in exile to find her spirit. This rite of passage is much like the Pathfinders of Corone or the Nomads of Hudde. In silence she continued her trials until she fell in love, and returned to Junkyo with her husband dragged through the ether by her side.
Then there was the Cataclysm, a century of peace amongst the Kalithrism destroyed in a heartbeat. Junkyo was lost first and Mordelain fled to Althanas as it exploded into a million crystalline fragments. The energy ripple tore through the vortex, and the remnants of the Troubadours become enemies and villains instead of prophets and priests. The people turned against them to attribute blame for loved ones lost and mountains toppled. The worlds shuddered and war broke out, leaving it swiftly crippled and isolated.
Althanas was built on war so it did not notice the devastation that was occurring just beyond the pale veil of the vortex. Though many millions have died in necromancer’s wake and hatred’s path, it was that tenet of its culture that saved it, for the Troubadours had for millennia rejected the world and the path that lead to it in disgust for its recklessness.
Mordelain has spent a century travelling the ruined worlds, speaking to its refugees and survivors and trying bitterly to reconcile their hatred of the World Walkers before it is too late to reknit the fabric of the Kalithrism. She is alone in her endeavour, and the solitude blinds and maddens her. The lure of Althanas is a powerful omen for a woman that longs for a community once more. The worlds are drifting apart and without her, without the citizens of Althanas they will fall into darkness and forever remain apart, left to die in their ignorance.
History Level One
Mordelain has recalled those strange first moments when she left the dying home world she grew up on, and the strange scent of the wind in the limbos (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22909-The-Wind-in-the-Limbos/page2&highlight=). The appearance of another soul in that place, one woman who was not a Tama caused her great concern. If people other than herself had found a way to breech the realm between the worlds, then it would not be long before people who wished to abuse that power found their own way.
She has spent many years, decades even wondering if the other worlds (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22543-Oh-Do-You-Dream-Of-Me-Netherworlds-(Solo))still dream about her. Though she lost her staff in a skirmish in Breed, and has slowly lost connection with some worlds in favour of others, she has slowly come to understand her place in the universe and accept the reality that she is faced with. The Cataclysm has happened, there is no going back, no resolution easily found in being tearful and emotional about something she cannot change.
Eventually, she came to settle in Fallien, after spending many years travelling the continents of Althanas and listening to its strange people speak of customs stranger still. She has become an il’Jhain, a delivery woman for the Freerunner Outfit in the Abdos of Irrakam, and has already gained herself quite the reputation and quiet the following within the desert kingdom’s strange institute. Suresh, her mentor and father figure has proffered her with weapons and a promise of training. She has found, in the midst of intrigue and brewing war amongst the spice traders and the temple of Jya a purpose to live for. She can do well here and perhaps if she can save Fallien from itself, she will once again find the strength to save the other worlds from their selves with the heart of the nomad (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22406-The-Heart-of-the-Nomad-(Closed)/page3&highlight=).
Personality: The Tama are a solemn people who view happiness and exuberance as part of their profession and not a social function or path to enjoyment. They are archaic in their ways and somewhat abrasive, and given her solitude and the powerful mental scars of exile and death Mordelain is no exception. Whilst only young in the terms of her people, she is wizened beyond any human who walks the world of Althanas. She is wiser perhaps than she allows herself to be. The loss of her husband and the crippling fears that she was to blame leave her with a difficulty to speak, and to open up to others, so she has trust issues and a deus ex machine complex which leads her to hide in her title and let tradition and form dictate over her true and kind emotions.
Skills:
The Etiquette of the Crystal Swain: Taught from a young age to deal with others, Mordelain is an expert and noble diplomatic and orator, able to weave magic into her words and convince others in the debating chamber with a fiery conviction approaching stubbornness.
The Branch of Learned Scholarship: Gifted with exposure to the harsh worlds that encompass the Vortex, Mordelain has the basic ability to locate food and liquids on any of the worlds she travels. It gives her an above average skill in pre-empting natural dangers too, though she is ill equipped to deal with encountering the fauna of even the most gentile of planes. It was the Troubadours epoch to be able to live as one of her flock on any world, and to impart that same information to those who required learning.
The Heart of the Nomad: Mordelain is adept in the cultures and traditions of the Kalithrism though her knowledge of Althanas is only below average. The exception to this is an average knowledge of Fallien’s flora and fauna and language and customs.
The Movement of Aeons: Mordelain is an expert dancer, versed in motion and performance from the breadth of the Kalithrism.
Il’Jhain Rider: In a short space of time, Mordelain has become an above average horse rider.
Abilities:
She Who Walks, She Who Winds: As a World Walker Mordelain possess the spark of transience, a gift given only to the troubadours of Junkyo by order of the lore that formed the vortex that connects the planes. The sensation is akin to a sudden sickness and a tearing descending feeling followed by euphoria. There is no portal as such, merely a blur than a fade then nothing remains of Mordelain. Though she is versed in the technique it is by no means least an easy skill to perform, nor does it ever become mastered, even by the most revered of sisters. World Walkers are forever treading a dangerous path and as such, walking between one world and another is subject to very stringent conditions, as detailed below:
• Directional Flow: A World Walker can only travel to a world or leave a world via another. If Mordelain wishes to travel to Althanas from Hudde for example she must walk on an intermediary world. This often makes journeys difficult, and they can last many hours even if the time she is gone from one plane is only a matter of seconds.
• Elemental Chasm: Each world requires an anchor unless emotion is high, the relevant connection must be nearby or Mordelain must be touching or immersed in the aura of that connection. The element or environment required is detailed in the world’s description above.
• Blind Path: Twice per thread Mordelain can walk blind without restriction if she is in immediate danger or is angered or emotional beyond her control. Such a walk will have repercussions as it will leave her in a strange part of another world. Returning could take many days, if not weeks if she is careless.
• Lightened Load: Mordelain cannot take living beings to other worlds unless they are both willing and capable of comprehending the implications for their knowledge and faith. The only exception to this is Kales, further bolstering Mordelain's belief that the horse is more than a man than any other inhabitant of Fallien.
Hardy Resilience: The desert has a funny way with people. It conditions you to survive, wherever you like it or not. Mordelain's endurance is now X1.5 that of an equivalent 20 year old physically fit human female of her size. Her reaction times to danger, essentially her dexterity is now also X1.5 that of a human. She is resistant to extreme temperatures, giving her a stamina of X1.5, only when in desert environments or flaming other worlds.
Items & Equipment:
Kukri: A steel kukri purchased from the Freerunner Armoury in the il'Jhain Abdos, for the price of 15 gold. It was a gift from the merchant Suresh to Mordelain, so that she can learn to better protect herself in the harsh wilderness of the desert.
Steel Pole-Arm: A 6 foot steel tipped pole-arm with a black shaft and cross inlay below the weapon's tip. It has a small spike on the base, for balance and to counter-thrust. It was purchased from the Freerunner Armoury by Suresh.
Il’Jhain Map: A rectangle parchment roughly 30 centimetres by 20 enchanted to show Fallien to a messenger, as well as his current assignment and the route required to most safely traverse the sands by approved routes of their house.
North Gate Belt: A belt with a silver clasp with several circular holes in it to mount tokens, Freerunner currency and status symbols amongst the il'Jhain. It is enchanted to give the wearer (not just a messenger) the innate sense of knowing where north is at all times.
Token: First Delivery
Token: Spice War Mission
Mosaic Fruit Bowel: Made of sugar glass from Nirakkal, this fruit bowel is a delicate piece of artwork as well as a convenient vessel to keep fruit fresh and aired in.
Kales: A female riding horse of average stock that is white from head to toe. She has second hand worn leather tack and a straw mane, but has an uncanny ability to keep going to its destination, even if it’s rider ‘accidentally’ falls off her stubborn bucking back.
Chronology & Update Justification:
Level One:
The Wind in the Limbos: (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22909-The-Wind-in-the-Limbos/page2&highlight=)+400 xp, 300 gold.
Oh Do You Dream of Me, Netherworlds? (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22543-Oh-Do-You-Dream-Of-Me-Netherworlds-(Solo)): + 600xp, 100 gold. - Staff, + focussing and usage of blind jump.
The Heart of the Nomad: (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22406-The-Heart-of-the-Nomad-(Closed)/page3&highlight=) +1300 xp, 30 gold. + Items, il'Jhain tokens, Kales, knowledge and endurance ability. - 178 gold, - magical dances.
Age: 30yrs
Gender: Female
Race: Tama (Humanoid)
Height: 5’10”
Weight: 155llbs
Homeworld: Junkyo
Religion: Nihilist
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Languages: Common, Runic, Basic Fallien
There are many worlds beyond yours. Each is just as brilliant and just as perilous. If the truth is told though I have walked on them and through them, I cannot fathom how many may there truly are through the infinite expanse of the multi-verse. One imagines one can never know. One imagines one will never be so fortunate to see all of creation in one single lifetime. I have had the fortune of viewing what is named in the ancient tongue The Kalithrism, the nine worlds that were anchored together before your petulant Thayne and mortal deities even became aware of their own existence.
Before the seas boiled there was Petra, the City of Eternity. Through its igam ogam heights and organic broad walks the wisest sages of the traverse discussed the many facets of reality. Along its narrow corridors a gentle wind carried the scent of blossoms. It was there, before the Cataclysm that I learnt all that I know and heard all that I have heard worth hearing. I walk its lonely streets in quiet contemplation when the sun is set, wavering in the brink of madness for the lament of days gone by.
Before the skies the formed there was Ixias, the Raging Furnace. In that strange place, all the fires of all the worlds’ burn fiercely. Gravity and time bend in chaotic melee in vortexes so vast they would sweep away the very fabric of Althanas in a single heartbeat. The once vibrant cities of industry that nestled themselves in cages of magic still linger in the firestorm, but only a few daring refuges dwell in the warm and rusted catacombs. They wait fetidly for salvation from the endless, scouring flares that lapse against their citadels of sorrow.
Before the animals spawned there was Breen, the People’s Republic. Its labyrinthine markets and endless roiling streets were a pinnacle of island life, forged on the common principle of kinship, togetherness and determination. Ruled by a queen of noble stature and untouched by war for millennia, when the Cataclysm raged, civil war did more harm than the fire and magical cracks ever could. Now its streets are quiet, silent, and empty, except for when I walk them in search of a memory to kindle my faith in humanity.
Before the birds sung there was Quant, the Mystic’s Market. From all the corners of the Kalithrism people gathered. Whatever you desired it could be found in the dense sprawl of shops, junk yards and canal boat traders. Every desire, every principle, every momentary weakness in the hearts of the many world’s peoples fluttered up and down the wooden jetties and in and out of the okiyas and bars without prejudice. Of all the worlds this was the place people came to lose themselves. Many could never leave such a paradise, and after the Cataclysm they were stricken with greed and tore one another apart. Its stands and stalls are stained with ancient blood and its rivers run red. Rumour is amok that all the artefacts still remain, if one is of sound enough mind to walk amongst the spirits of the dead…
Before the stones cooled and the mountains rose there was Hudde, the Nomad’s Realm. The rolling sands and the tombs buried in time were a place you could find yourself. Those exiled there discovered a new freedom asides their confinement. My ancestor’s spoke of this place with equal pleasure and pain, for the trials of the world walker ultimately end in a temple grave, a name engraved into the sandstone beneath the eternal limelight of a sickly, dying moon. If escape is what one requires, it is here that you shall find it.
Before the trees grew there was Bulganin, the Heart World. The surface of the Heart World is an eternal forest, a twisting swamp miasma home to trees so tall that vast cities dwell in them. Entire tribes live out their lives oblivious to the other cultures living a macrocosm away. When the cataclysm came many fled here, for the abundance of food was perceived as a blessing. To the soul of Bulganin the invaders had to be cleansed and the trees rose in defence and the tribes. Though primitive in many respects, they retreated to their cities and left the refugees to die beneath the rasp of blood vines and the crawling needle bushes. Only those who know where to walk can find safety into the open arms of Bulganin’s pantheon of elders, and only those who have learnt that trust can do so more than once.
Before the cities formed and you find iron, steel and bronze there was Zhuhai, the Capitalist Zenith. The world has but one continent at the heart of an endless sea, but it is covered by a mega city, walled and separate from the vast slums which surround it. When the cataclysm came the technology of Zhuhai allowed the city to survive and it became xenophobic and alienated from the remnants of the Kalithrism. The many hundreds of thousands that look up to its glass walls dream of the day when they can steal themselves or bribe their way into the sanctuary it offers, and into the stuffy, heartless bigotry it contains. I walk amongst those villages, and am brought to tears at the joy of seeing such survival and humbled love for one another in these dark times. What dark secrets remain in the city even I do not know, but perhaps one day, I shall find a path to walk into the heart of the bourgeoisie prison, and show them what horrors lie on the other side of that wall.
Before your world settled as it is today there were two sisters, Junkyo, the Menagerie of the Gods and Lela, the Dancing Moon. My home was a world made out of crystal and ice, a permafrost citadel sparkling and plentiful and happy. When the cataclysm came, the moon was the first to be destroyed and I heard the screams of my sisters for many decades after the energy tore it apart. When it struck my world, I had but a moment to look over my shoulder as I walked to safety, leaving the burning image of the temples and coliseums tumbling into ruin in my mind. We were the teachers and troubadours of the Kalithrism, but it was always our audiences’ right to have the last laugh at our expense. I cannot walk there, for nothing but dust remains, though I keep the world alive beneath every step, hoping to find answers one day.
Only after our world fell did yours become alive. For millennia daemons and elves fought, and no doubt for many centuries more man shall in his deity’s stead wage war. When I first fled from Junkyo it was to Althanas, the Cosmopolitan Battlefield that my fear of death and need of company sent me blind through the vortices to. Though I walk through the Kalithrism still, I have found a spark of familiarity here and though I scorn your ignorance of the worlds beyond your own, and fear for the implications of the cataclysm I can only wonder where my path shall wind and my journey lead if it is to these shores I fall in my darkest hour.
History: Mordelain was born on the lost world of Junkyo three centuries ago by the reckoning of Althanas’s chronology. She possesses the spark that allows transcendence from one world to walk through the vortex and step out onto another, a gift once held by the Junkyo kin alone. She witnessed the Nine and learnt its customs as way of initiation, and acted as a messenger between families lost in time and exiled by light-years. Judiciary and kings the Junkyo Troubadours could, under extreme duress take with them one soul and deliver them to a new land.
When she reached adulthood at the age of one hundred, Mordelain was permitted to travel in exile to find her spirit. This rite of passage is much like the Pathfinders of Corone or the Nomads of Hudde. In silence she continued her trials until she fell in love, and returned to Junkyo with her husband dragged through the ether by her side.
Then there was the Cataclysm, a century of peace amongst the Kalithrism destroyed in a heartbeat. Junkyo was lost first and Mordelain fled to Althanas as it exploded into a million crystalline fragments. The energy ripple tore through the vortex, and the remnants of the Troubadours become enemies and villains instead of prophets and priests. The people turned against them to attribute blame for loved ones lost and mountains toppled. The worlds shuddered and war broke out, leaving it swiftly crippled and isolated.
Althanas was built on war so it did not notice the devastation that was occurring just beyond the pale veil of the vortex. Though many millions have died in necromancer’s wake and hatred’s path, it was that tenet of its culture that saved it, for the Troubadours had for millennia rejected the world and the path that lead to it in disgust for its recklessness.
Mordelain has spent a century travelling the ruined worlds, speaking to its refugees and survivors and trying bitterly to reconcile their hatred of the World Walkers before it is too late to reknit the fabric of the Kalithrism. She is alone in her endeavour, and the solitude blinds and maddens her. The lure of Althanas is a powerful omen for a woman that longs for a community once more. The worlds are drifting apart and without her, without the citizens of Althanas they will fall into darkness and forever remain apart, left to die in their ignorance.
History Level One
Mordelain has recalled those strange first moments when she left the dying home world she grew up on, and the strange scent of the wind in the limbos (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22909-The-Wind-in-the-Limbos/page2&highlight=). The appearance of another soul in that place, one woman who was not a Tama caused her great concern. If people other than herself had found a way to breech the realm between the worlds, then it would not be long before people who wished to abuse that power found their own way.
She has spent many years, decades even wondering if the other worlds (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22543-Oh-Do-You-Dream-Of-Me-Netherworlds-(Solo))still dream about her. Though she lost her staff in a skirmish in Breed, and has slowly lost connection with some worlds in favour of others, she has slowly come to understand her place in the universe and accept the reality that she is faced with. The Cataclysm has happened, there is no going back, no resolution easily found in being tearful and emotional about something she cannot change.
Eventually, she came to settle in Fallien, after spending many years travelling the continents of Althanas and listening to its strange people speak of customs stranger still. She has become an il’Jhain, a delivery woman for the Freerunner Outfit in the Abdos of Irrakam, and has already gained herself quite the reputation and quiet the following within the desert kingdom’s strange institute. Suresh, her mentor and father figure has proffered her with weapons and a promise of training. She has found, in the midst of intrigue and brewing war amongst the spice traders and the temple of Jya a purpose to live for. She can do well here and perhaps if she can save Fallien from itself, she will once again find the strength to save the other worlds from their selves with the heart of the nomad (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22406-The-Heart-of-the-Nomad-(Closed)/page3&highlight=).
Personality: The Tama are a solemn people who view happiness and exuberance as part of their profession and not a social function or path to enjoyment. They are archaic in their ways and somewhat abrasive, and given her solitude and the powerful mental scars of exile and death Mordelain is no exception. Whilst only young in the terms of her people, she is wizened beyond any human who walks the world of Althanas. She is wiser perhaps than she allows herself to be. The loss of her husband and the crippling fears that she was to blame leave her with a difficulty to speak, and to open up to others, so she has trust issues and a deus ex machine complex which leads her to hide in her title and let tradition and form dictate over her true and kind emotions.
Skills:
The Etiquette of the Crystal Swain: Taught from a young age to deal with others, Mordelain is an expert and noble diplomatic and orator, able to weave magic into her words and convince others in the debating chamber with a fiery conviction approaching stubbornness.
The Branch of Learned Scholarship: Gifted with exposure to the harsh worlds that encompass the Vortex, Mordelain has the basic ability to locate food and liquids on any of the worlds she travels. It gives her an above average skill in pre-empting natural dangers too, though she is ill equipped to deal with encountering the fauna of even the most gentile of planes. It was the Troubadours epoch to be able to live as one of her flock on any world, and to impart that same information to those who required learning.
The Heart of the Nomad: Mordelain is adept in the cultures and traditions of the Kalithrism though her knowledge of Althanas is only below average. The exception to this is an average knowledge of Fallien’s flora and fauna and language and customs.
The Movement of Aeons: Mordelain is an expert dancer, versed in motion and performance from the breadth of the Kalithrism.
Il’Jhain Rider: In a short space of time, Mordelain has become an above average horse rider.
Abilities:
She Who Walks, She Who Winds: As a World Walker Mordelain possess the spark of transience, a gift given only to the troubadours of Junkyo by order of the lore that formed the vortex that connects the planes. The sensation is akin to a sudden sickness and a tearing descending feeling followed by euphoria. There is no portal as such, merely a blur than a fade then nothing remains of Mordelain. Though she is versed in the technique it is by no means least an easy skill to perform, nor does it ever become mastered, even by the most revered of sisters. World Walkers are forever treading a dangerous path and as such, walking between one world and another is subject to very stringent conditions, as detailed below:
• Directional Flow: A World Walker can only travel to a world or leave a world via another. If Mordelain wishes to travel to Althanas from Hudde for example she must walk on an intermediary world. This often makes journeys difficult, and they can last many hours even if the time she is gone from one plane is only a matter of seconds.
• Elemental Chasm: Each world requires an anchor unless emotion is high, the relevant connection must be nearby or Mordelain must be touching or immersed in the aura of that connection. The element or environment required is detailed in the world’s description above.
• Blind Path: Twice per thread Mordelain can walk blind without restriction if she is in immediate danger or is angered or emotional beyond her control. Such a walk will have repercussions as it will leave her in a strange part of another world. Returning could take many days, if not weeks if she is careless.
• Lightened Load: Mordelain cannot take living beings to other worlds unless they are both willing and capable of comprehending the implications for their knowledge and faith. The only exception to this is Kales, further bolstering Mordelain's belief that the horse is more than a man than any other inhabitant of Fallien.
Hardy Resilience: The desert has a funny way with people. It conditions you to survive, wherever you like it or not. Mordelain's endurance is now X1.5 that of an equivalent 20 year old physically fit human female of her size. Her reaction times to danger, essentially her dexterity is now also X1.5 that of a human. She is resistant to extreme temperatures, giving her a stamina of X1.5, only when in desert environments or flaming other worlds.
Items & Equipment:
Kukri: A steel kukri purchased from the Freerunner Armoury in the il'Jhain Abdos, for the price of 15 gold. It was a gift from the merchant Suresh to Mordelain, so that she can learn to better protect herself in the harsh wilderness of the desert.
Steel Pole-Arm: A 6 foot steel tipped pole-arm with a black shaft and cross inlay below the weapon's tip. It has a small spike on the base, for balance and to counter-thrust. It was purchased from the Freerunner Armoury by Suresh.
Il’Jhain Map: A rectangle parchment roughly 30 centimetres by 20 enchanted to show Fallien to a messenger, as well as his current assignment and the route required to most safely traverse the sands by approved routes of their house.
North Gate Belt: A belt with a silver clasp with several circular holes in it to mount tokens, Freerunner currency and status symbols amongst the il'Jhain. It is enchanted to give the wearer (not just a messenger) the innate sense of knowing where north is at all times.
Token: First Delivery
Token: Spice War Mission
Mosaic Fruit Bowel: Made of sugar glass from Nirakkal, this fruit bowel is a delicate piece of artwork as well as a convenient vessel to keep fruit fresh and aired in.
Kales: A female riding horse of average stock that is white from head to toe. She has second hand worn leather tack and a straw mane, but has an uncanny ability to keep going to its destination, even if it’s rider ‘accidentally’ falls off her stubborn bucking back.
Chronology & Update Justification:
Level One:
The Wind in the Limbos: (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22909-The-Wind-in-the-Limbos/page2&highlight=)+400 xp, 300 gold.
Oh Do You Dream of Me, Netherworlds? (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22543-Oh-Do-You-Dream-Of-Me-Netherworlds-(Solo)): + 600xp, 100 gold. - Staff, + focussing and usage of blind jump.
The Heart of the Nomad: (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?22406-The-Heart-of-the-Nomad-(Closed)/page3&highlight=) +1300 xp, 30 gold. + Items, il'Jhain tokens, Kales, knowledge and endurance ability. - 178 gold, - magical dances.