Greetings. My name is Nibiru. While some of the more uptight citizens of this pig-pen of a city would call me "thief," "scoundrel," or "sewer scum," I prefer to think of myself as a "Wealth Redistribution Agent." I lend my services to Spur with a smile, and I occasionally dabble in spy work.
I was born the youngest into a home of Taathian fire
mages, and grew up with five brothers and a pale, elderly
grandfather who did little more than swat at me with
newspapers and make shadows that looked like animals on the
wall to make me giggle when I was small. As I grew older, I
began to see that the life of a Taathian fire mage was not
appealing to me. I began to slack slightly in my studies at
first, failing to study the spell books and sneaking out of
my magick classes, and as time passed I dismissed it entirely
and began to spend my days in the local tavern, where I
befriended the Setite bartender. I don't think it would be
right to give his name, but for convenience's sake I'll call
My mother, a most avid Taathian, was not at all pleased
with my decision to spend my days drinking and gambling, and
called me a disgrace to the town. When she screamed, it shook
the panes in the windows and her stare was vicious and
piercing. I was terrified of her, but I refused to change my
behavior, and began spending even more time at the tavern.Sometimes
my father, who was a bit of a clumsy mage himself, would join
me and my bartender friend in our telling of tall tales and
gambling. I don't know why such a smart, quietly manipulative
man would have married my psychotic mother. I think it was
perhaps because she liked... intimacy... and my father liked
children so I suppose you could call it an even trade. My
brothers took after my razor-sharp, hot tempered mother,
though we got along reasonably well, and I like to think I
take after my laid-back, introspective father. Whether or not
that is true is a matter of opinion.As a result of my
decisions, I quickly ran out of money, and my mother refused
to support me and my whiskey. I believe I was 16 at the time.
One night as I was most intoxicated and lamenting to Romali,
he shooed out the drunks and shut and bolted the door. From
there he opened a trapdoor behind the bar and took my hand as
he led me down the stairs into a room where shadows danced
along the ceiling and the room was so dark even I could not
tell where space ended and walls began. Several beings talked
quietly about bribing knights, minting fake coins, breaking
into buildings, and other subjects that were always
considered taboo in my little community.
"Nibi," he said, "have you ever considered the fact that some people have more than they need?"
I pondered this.
Romali went on to tell me of rich nobles living in faraway
lands who squandered their money on vacations to sandy
beaches and hundreds of silk dresses and had servants to make
sure they were always content. He asked me what I thought
I said I thought that sounded awfully nice.
From there it seemed he led me through a wall and
into a dark, mossy, smelly part of town I was always told to
stay away from, as I did not want to associate myself with
"Those People". I glanced at my friend
warily and told him that I had better things to do than to
walk among these street ruffians.
He sighed and led me onward.
We walked in silence for perhaps a half hour until we came upon a house- well, I suppose it could sort of pass for a house. It was a large board, perhaps as tall and wide as a tree that was too large to be a sapling but too small to be a tree, leaned up against a building. There were dirty silk curtains pinned over the openings.
He gestured for me to go onwards, and I ducked my head and entered the shack. Inside there was a mess of blankets, a small opal figurine of a snake, and some bread that looked like it had been stolen from the tavern.
I turned around and said to him, "Someone actually lives here?"
Romali smiled weakly and said, "Welcome to my home."
I was flabbergasted. I couldn't believe that my friend,
the man who gave me food and let me sleep at the tavern when
I was too stubborn to go home, the man who had taken me
fishing, the man who had taught me to spit over a river and
whistle with two fingers, who I had shared memories both
happy and unhappy over jiggers of cheap whiskey... was one of
them.I sat down hard, and nearly tipped over the "wall"
of his little lean-to. He caught it with a suprising grace
and sat next to me. For the next... perhaps five hours, he
told me of the catastrophic things that happen to the people
that no one cares about, how they are abused and exploited by
the upper class. As the sun rose, I drifted off into a
restless sleep as my he sat with his hand barely touching the
small of my back, and an expression on his face that was half
relief and half defeat.
When I woke up, Romali was gone- probably back at the
tavern opening up for the day's business before his boss
arrived and reprimanded him for closing early the night
before.I glanced into a puddle of murky water outside the
shack at my dirty face and mussed hair, dismissed it, and
began back to the tavern. I was used to the residents of this
area looking at me with contempt in their eyes when we would
happen to run across each other, but today they smiled and
nodded in greeting.
From then on, he began to teach me the basics of thievery
and manipulation. We would walk the crowded streets of the
market, and I would strike up idle conversation with the men
there, and he silently pulled coins from their pockets.
Eventually I began to pocket coins myself, at first pocket
change, and then larger amounts of gold. I kept enough to
have a very comfortable life, and gave what I didn't need
away. He continued to live in his shanty. I never really
understood why. I studied under him for perhaps four years.
One day, as we were sitting over drinks discussing an
upcoming peddle, he glanced at the brand of a vulture on my
neck and asked it had any meaning to me. I laughed and said
"Of course not, it is a hand-me-down from my mother."
I had expected him to chuckle, but instead he frowned, and
motioned for me to follow him.He led me through the now
familiar trapdoor, and through the shadows. As I started for
the entrance to the poor quarter, he guided me towards a
small hole I had never before noticed.I gasped when I saw
what was inside- the altar of Set. I stared, slack-jawed,
hypnotized by the silvery glow coming from the altar and the
whispers that danced around my ears, but wouldn't enter them
and remained indistinct.
I glanced at him and he nodded slightly. With that, I
began to renounce Taath, but before the words even left my
mouth, a blazing heat shredded through my body, and quickly
turned to a pain that rivals no other. I heard a voice boom
inside my head with such a force I feared my face would
shatter, "Born into fire, and you shall die by fire. You
I grabbed my head and fell to my knees, where I lost
consciousness. I was sure I was dead. As I felt myself
spinning into a bottomless black vortex threatening to pull
me apart, I screamed within myself for help, not knowing who
I was screaming to and knowing exactly what I was doing at
the same time. A feeling of serenity came over me. I opened
my eyes and saw nothing but gray. As I lay there I felt
strength flow back into me and when the fog dissipated
everything seemed clearer. The mark of the vulture was gone,
and a new mark- that of a snake with no head or tail-
replaced it. I touched my neck curiously.With a new sense of
power and belonging, we went back to the tavern and discussed
Setite philosophy over jiggers of whiskey, and I stumbled
home at dawn in a blissful, drunken stupor.I walked into my
house and ran face first into my mother, nearly knocking her
over. She looked at me with disgust, and then rage, as she
noticed the mark on my neck. She began to scream in Eldari
and she held her hands up to the sky. A huge fireball formed
in her hands and she hurled it upwards into the air as it
grew in size and intensity. She screamed more curses in
Eldari, and then, finally understanding that I had forgotten
every word I had every learned in that language since I
ceased my studies, she held the fireball over her head and
stared at me with glowing red eyes.
"GET... OUT.... NOW."
I turned and ran away so fast I tore up divots in the
ground, and felt the skin on my ankles burn and rise up into
watery blisters as the fireball landed just behind me. I ran
for hours in no particular direction with no thoughts running
through my head except the piercing shards of panic.I
eventually came to a muddy river where I collapsed on the
bank into a dreamless sleep. When I awoke it was dark.I heard
the creaking of my bones and could feel my tense muscles
refuse to give as I struggled to my feet. Having no idea
where I was or from what direction I had come from, I decided
my best option was to follow the river and hope I stumbled
I wandered for almost a week until I stumbled upon what I
now know is Meetpoint, and from there I was given directions
to Spur. I imagine I looked like a fright, and I'm suprised
some secian didn't try to turn me. I stole enough money to
buy myself a loaf of bread and a few jiggers of whiskey at
the Rose Eternal tavern, and from there cleaned up and began
to make a new life for myself.
I would like to go back to see my father and my friend,
I'm sure if I gave my name to someone in the administration
district they could tell me how to get back from where I came.
I'd rather not deal with the Odarians though. Perhaps I will
when I hear of my mother's death. I half expect my father to
show up in Spur one day, the wench was always on the verge of
throwing him out too. Sometimes I see bits of my mother in me
when I get angry, but all they are are bits, and they fade
quickly.I still drink occasionally, not as much as I used to.
I don't really have anyone to drink with as most of my
friends don't drink, and the ones that do act strange and not
at all happy when they are intoxicated. I suppose it's for
the better.I am doing quite well currently. I try my best to
keep my sense of humor and wits about me. I have good
friends, good weapons, quick hands, and a healthy bank
account, and I cause more than my fair share of trouble. I
try my best to do what Set wills.
Respectfully submitted on 4/12/312-
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