Site hosted by Angelfire.com: Build your free website today!

    

Tarkah Ta'Kiratack

Tarkah Ta'Kiratack  

Profession:    Rogue

 [Tarkah's home, Guest Room.]
Upon entrance to this particularly large room, a fire rages in the fireplace, giving off a comfortable warmth.  In the center of the room is a large table surrounded by chairs which seems to invite you to them.  You walk up to the table, pull out a chair, and seat yourself.  Before you lies a large black tome.

Examining the tome carefully, you note that the corners have been capped with gold, and a large tribal design has been etched into the cover. Upon opening the tome, a cloud of dust gently blows out from the sides, settling on the table. Curiosity overwhelms you as you begin flipping through the pages, reading each carefully...

The words of the tome, echoes in your mind, with a strange, but familiar
voice.....

As it seems, it appears your curiosity has served you well, though I'm not most likely home, you may make yourself home here.  As you read along, you will soon understand my past, and my present, but remember, I will not reveal any deep within secrets.

I was born in the year of 5058, in the month of Lumnea, on the third day of Niiman, at the hour of Ronan.  My mother Morintha, and my father Krilu, were members of the High Council in an ancient tribe.  Dark days fell over my tribe, confusion, distrust, murder, and betrayal consumed most of them.  Over the years the tribe slowly began to rebuild itself with a renewed vigor, most were either killed during the dark days, or left the tribe, in search of their own destiny.  After I was born, a new branch of the tribe was created...a group of assassins.  I was raised as one of these, soon to become the leader of this branch.  I was raised to never show emotion, and very well disciplined.  I was trained separately from the rest of the assassins, which allowed me to hone my skills faster, and better.

After 10 years, my training was complete, and I was looked upon when precise assassinations needed to be done quickly, and stealthy.  I had become, the high assassin, and had a seat on the high council with my parents.  Soon the dark days returned to my tribe, the lands had dried up, and crops were dying fast.  Soon my tribe was starving, we had already killed and eaten the majority of the nearby animals, most of the nearby life, had moved elsewhere before lands drying up in search of more food.  Members of my tribe soon followed.  I was then sought upon, to do a deed our tribe would never do.  I was to assassinate the king and assume control of a nearby town.

My mission was set, and I had no choice but to do it, it was for the good of my tribe. Several months had passed, as I carefully watched, and memorized each face in town, learning their strengths, their weakness.  To live, I stole food from the towns markets, since I could be caught during the daylight I took the food back to the high council each day during the afternoon, since I could be caught during the daylight, I could make my shipments back to my tribe, and return by nightfall for more watching.  I kept a journal of each persons actions, where they worked, and what they did.  Carefully assessing the list, and after long discussion with the high council, we narrowed down who would have to die, and who we would spare, and let live there with us.  I had went back to the town, after gathering a few extra assassins that had once lived with my tribe, though they hadn't betrayed the council, my trust for them was thin, but I couldn't possibly do all of this myself quickly, it would take too much time.  We struck during the hour of Ronan, hitting the markets for food, weapons, and anything else we could manage.

Again, we returned to the high council, supplying them with enough food to survive while we took over the town.  Then it began, dark clouds rolled in through the sky, blocking out the sun, the winds became calm, but the lands were darkness. It was time to begin...

(Images begin to flash in your mind, screams of terror and pain echoing along.  Suddenly an image flashes before your eyes...


[Castle, top of the tower]
Looking around you see a large circle in which your standing in, and a staircase leading down through the tower.  Peaking over the ledge of the tower, you notice a large room across the courtyard.  Upon closer examination of the room, you note two guards by the main door, and a large bed.  On the poles of the bed, large diamonds are placed at the tops, this is the kings room.

(The image begins to fade slowly, then suddenly comes back with a rush of adrenaline)  *You appear perched upon a stone block on the edge of a tall tower, crossbow in hand, aiming through the large room.*  You fire a steel-shafted heavy bolt at a sleeping king!  The bolt slams into the kings chest, shattering through his sternum into the heart! The king lets out a painful scream, which quickly ends.

(A loud mass of screams enters your mind, followed by the loud clashing of swords and armor as the image of armed guards sweeping the kingdom for the assassin.  In a matter of moments, each guard was picked off quickly, among other peasants whom were equipped with weapons, and a few mages that were mustering with spells to help find the group of assassins.)

Soon the job was done, and the darkness left the sky.  Those who didn't pose a threat, were spared their useless lives.  Two other assassins, and myself, stayed behind holding the left over peasants as prisoners until the high council arrived.  I sent four other assassins back to the high council to gather them up, and help them move everything they need to our new kingdom.  Many years past, as our tribe began to grow once again, but it only grew slowly, and I began training new assassins, refined assassins, cold killers like myself.  Soon my branch of assassins was larger than the left over tribe.  Soon, once again, the lands dried out, and more crops died.  The high council held a kingdom wide meeting, to assess the amount of food we had left, and how long it would last us. Sadly enough, we only had enough food to last a few more months, then we'd have to move on.  Then the hardest decision of all came along..the Lord of the council decided that it would be best, if the tribe broke off into small groups, living on their own to reduce the loss of food.  After a few days passed, only the high council remained, myself as usual included.  The master of arms stated to the council, that he would stay with the Lord, and protect them.  Soon we all broke off, myself..left alone.  I told my parents they were to stay with the lord and lady, for safe keeping. I stayed behind in the kingdom, to help restore it for the peasants, so they didn't have to leave, under orders of the high council.  More years passed, then I decided the kingdom was ready to live on their own.

I then ventured off through the wilds..surviving off of the plants, and any animal I could catch.  After about ten years of living off of the woods,  I felt empty, I needed to feel honored again, respected.  Searching for months on end, with barely enough sleep to suit my needs,  I came across the city of Ta'vaalor.  Making multiple acquaintances along the way, I soon gain the respect of the second militia, and had taken a place among this militia, dedicating myself to serving them, as I did my tribe.  Never again had I thought about my parents, because I knew they were okay, but still..someday...I wish to see them again.  (The echoing voice fades from your mind, as you shake your head to regain your bearings. The images that were once in your mind, soon fade, your heart, once again pulsating normally. As you flip to the last page of the book you see the signature of Tarkah, then you close the tomb) 
You lift up the tome, and blow gently on the table, blowing off the excess dust that had fallen from the tome, setting the tome back down carefully as you exit the home of Tarkah.

Leaving the home of Tarkah, out the corner of your eye, you catch a blur of a shadow, before you can turn your head to get a clear view, its gone.  Suddenly the door of Tarkahs home slams shut, making you quickly turn around.  You hear a audible click, as you glance up slowly, you see the gleam of a crossbow peaking from the edge of the roof, quickly you spin around and take off running, not taking your chances you dodge in and out of trees, attempting to lose whomever it was on the roof.  Coming to the end of a large forest, you turn around and look back towards Tarkahs home, but see nothing in sight.

You feel a tap on your shoulder as you spin around quickly, standing behind you, appears to be an elf, his hair pitch-black and braided flat to the top of his head.  His piercing albino colored eyes, staring directly into yours. He speaks, "Greetings wanderer, my name is Tarkah Ki'tay.  And I hope you enjoyed my story, and learned a thing or two about my history.  I hope you fully understand me now, and why I do the things I do.  Now that I know you did not rob my home, you may go in peace. Be safe, good adventurer."   Suddenly he vanishes within a blink. You quickly look around to find nothing but trees, and random plants.  After a moment to catch your bearings, you begin to wander off into the distance.

 
 
Copyright by the citizens for Ta'Vaalor.
For problems or questions regarding this web contact The Web Mistress.
Last updated: January 19, 2003.