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Omen Eclispe- a world of fantasy, horror, and intrigue. A place set in the Dark Ages a time of death, struggle and riches. A place where not everything is what it seems and the night takes on a life of its own.
 
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 Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears

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Knightstar
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Knightstar


Posts : 127
Join date : 2008-06-23

Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears Empty
PostSubject: Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears   Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears I_icon_minitimeTue Dec 13, 2011 4:51 am

Character Name: Zasha
Age: Nearly 17
Faction: Hunter
Race: Human Kinfolk Silver Fang Tribe


Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears The_re10


Backgrounds:

Pure Breed 5


Known Merits:

Extremely Well Educated
Gull
Gnosis
Animal Magnetism


Known Flaws:

Overconfident
Hatred

Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears Elf_wa10


Last edited by Knightstar on Mon Dec 19, 2011 5:53 am; edited 7 times in total
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Knightstar
Admin
Knightstar


Posts : 127
Join date : 2008-06-23

Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears Empty
PostSubject: Re: Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears   Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears I_icon_minitimeTue Dec 13, 2011 9:20 pm

*the following book is penned in a fine hand with lovely looping writing of one of proper education*

February 14, 1339,

The days run together. After thinking this over I thought this journal would aid in helping the days to separate from one another. But alas, I struggle over what to write. So I digress to the beginning of my life’s tale.

I was born on the cusp of winter and spring in the year 1322. I was born unto the Royal Empress of Russia, and the Tsar Nikolas. My upbringing was very regal. Not that I often would have much of it. I was born the youngest so little weight was placed upon my shoulders for the Royal family. My studies showed it.

I had three older brothers and one sister. From the time I could remember my caregivers pushed all the things of a proper womanly upbringing at me. They taught me languages and teachings of manners. I caught on fast to them. Could do them in my sleep by my 6th birthday.

The one thing that always held my attention was watching my brothers sword play. The art was amazing to me. I would watch for hours as they worked in the main hall while my sister tried to get me to engage in polite proper conversation. But things such as the weather and how the latest rumors among the dukes held little interest to the gleaming flash of the blades.

I was forbidden to watch any longer when one day. While the our arranged marriage partners were visiting picked up a sword and leapt into the mock fray between the boys.

Oh yes, I was bad at it. Stumbling over my dress and slicing into my left arm as I fell in a lunge. But the feeling the weight of the blade the feeling of the stress on my body as I tried to force it to do only what I had seen, it was as if I had been handed the world.
From that point on I was on strict education training on how a proper lady should behave. I hated the teachings. So I would sneak out of my room climbing down the walls until I reached the bushes. From there I fled into the forest where my brothers had been moved for their training. There every day I would watch with great interest with my wooden blade I made of a stick.

Eventually my family found out. The Duke of the boy I was to marry found out as well. After a year of trying to curb my wild abandon the Duke refused to allow the marriage any longer. My father could hardly blame him for such a thing as his daughter was wild beyond reason.

I was then forced to stay within the church at all time save for when the family was required to be together. It was within these walls that I learned of a great gift bestowed upon me. I held the gift to heal. It was not much but I could make a minor cut or scrape go away with just a few words. I turned to liking this gift. I even showed my mother it one day.

That was when she took me aside in her bed chamber and told me of Gaia. How she had touched me. This was confusing to me as never had been mentioned this Gaia ever. But I learned the story. I found that it called to me with a greater hold than the good book ever had. I learned tales of these spirits called the triad of the wyld, the weaver, and the wyrm.

While it was frowned on for me healing people I still did. I would sneak out of the house every few nights making my way to a town. Where a healer would allow me to aid them. The feeling was warm when I healed a person it felt right so I decided to keep doing it.

I continued my existence this way for several years. Then for my 16th year of life a grand party was held. My parents invited many people from many countries to it. There was a Duke from Germany Christian Rothchilde or something of that nature.

When he was at the party he would not stop looking at me as if I was some grand appearance. I saw him speaking to my Mother there too. The crease of her brow told me that she did not like what was being said to her.

It was after all the guest had left that I was told I would be leaving. It seemed that until that point. Everything in my life which I believed was real was a lie.


February 15, 1339

A tryst my Mother called it. An affair she had while my father… while the Tsar was away some 17 years before my birth. It seemed I was not blood to the Tsar. I was a bastard child of some other man. The Duke of Germany. He demanded that I be sent to him by the time I reached my next birthday. I was outraged, but nothing I could say would change my mother’s mind.

She wove this story to my father about how my gifts were a blessing from god and that I should be shared with the church. After some talking it had been decided. I would be going to a nunnery, at least as far as the Tsar believed. My name was stricken from the family record. The priest of the church suggested this would make life easier for me and the family.

When the day came. There were no good byes at the gates. No tears from my family. All that I had was a stable boy with a letter for me as I was ushered to this man who was to take me to the sea and board a boat which was going to take me to Venice then from there to Bavaria.

When I got to the boat the stable boy who had traveled with us to take back the horses gave me the letter. I burned it after I read it unable to see through my rage tears.

The Duke was my father but he was a noble man. So my mother claimed. He sought me back. For I had a pure breed about myself that his tribe needed. The letter told me of things then that I did not believe. It told me of vampires, and werewolves. Told me that all the tales she told me about Gaia she learned from her family which had promised her to the Tsar to strengthen their hold in Russia. I was told that all would be explained to me once I arrived to this place called Sept. A member of my father’s court would retrieve me from Venice and whisk me away to Bavaria.

When I read that… That is when it started my hatred of the one thing that destroyed my life. My hatred of a thing called Garou.


Last edited by Knightstar on Tue Dec 13, 2011 9:23 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears   Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears I_icon_minitimeTue Dec 13, 2011 9:22 pm

February 22, 1339

The boat ride was horrid. The swaying and shifting of the boats. I stayed to myself my protector of sorts getting me food and other things I needed. The trip was to be long several months I was told via the direction we were going. That was fine by me. I used this time to acquire a real blade and get used to its weight. I did not get to keep it long. The boat had just reached the Mediterrian Sea. The sailors talked of a strange noble man who joined us at the last port. It wasn’t long after that, when we crashed.

When I was finally washed ashore, I am uncertain how long I had been in the water, I was nearly naked and soaked.

I had acquired gear to survive and other things and began my hunt. For that was what I was meant to do. It was then that I saw him. A rather disarrayed man, swinging about this large hammer as if it was a child’s toy. We joined forces and fought. Then at my side…. He changed… I was taken back by him I was not truly afraid in the since that I thought I should be. But as my mind processed his form tearing apart the bandits I began to realize that he was, as was told in the letter. One which I was certain had been written just to give me a reason why I was no longer around.

I hated this man now. He was everything which had caused my life to be tossed into this hell hole. I wanted to insult and kill this man like none other. But I had a job to do first, so insults would have to do.

The man did not kill me for seeing him. He said I had the breeding of one of his people plainly to see upon my face. After many hours of insults and the like he finally threatened me. Getting into my face while in one of the caves, my response to the uncoth beast was to spit into it for his rude behavior to one of his betters.

It was the last thing I remembered before I was spraled out on the ground. The whole left side of my face strung. I could feel the dull aching upon it. This was my first education into the garou. It made me seek to kill them all the more for it.
I prepared a letter to the good Father while boarded up in a room. The big brutish man having educated me on the finer details of Garou society, and I was preparing my report.

For see not only was my hatred my own. But it was a member of an order. One so old that it would see anything to remove the Garou from the world, but as of yet they had not been able to get good information or proper weaknesses and fighting methods on them.

When my mother sent me away. I was approached by a priest in the church. Sainthood would be mine if I would lead them to this family which I was now part of and lead to its down fall. I wrote with all my might that night. I would see them fall and die every one of them. From the Prince I had met to Ingvar. My mind paused as I thought on both and thought long, and I still think and debate.

*the words look like they were stopped suddenly then at the bottom is a drawing in coal of growls in blood being bashed with a shield flying into water*
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Join date : 2008-06-23

Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears Empty
PostSubject: Re: Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears   Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears I_icon_minitimeWed Dec 14, 2011 8:25 pm

February 23,1339

I met her today. The one who leads the garou. I can not say I am impressed with her nor any of the others I have seen there. The Alpha… who seems to be one who lacks honor enough to give respect to other groups she seeks to work with, looks as if she was pulled right out of the cutter of Mascow.

She is clearly one who likes to be in charge but not know what the hell she is talking about or dealing with. Assuming will be a fatal flaw of her I think. Assuming I was but some laid back breeder when she sent out a call of some sort to a place for all, was bad judgment. If I could assure that the two which have been very helpful to me would be safe I would turn the entire race into nothing but a memory by the hunters order. But I can not. The order of the Shinning Dawn would see that all of them would be destroyed or that they were dead in their place.

I would teach them my proper place in the world if I but knew I would be more safe. I am not a thing like they call me. I am not owned by someone. I am my own person until I am wed then I only answer to them. Being as I have no father.

I have acquired skills which would never be viewed as proper at all. I think that is part of why I am enjoying this so much. I am taking ores from the earth, smelting them into workable metals and forming them into weapons. I do not feel I am good at it, but this work… it gives me structure and focus.
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PostSubject: Re: Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears   Zasha's Journal- Rage and Tears I_icon_minitime

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