Zaira

[Zaira]

Physical Information Race: Benshira Human Birthday & Age : Season of Summer Day 42,489 AV; 20 Gender: Female Physical Description "Like a gift from the heavens, it was easy to tell It was love from above that could save me from hell" Standing at 5’7” Zaira has waves of red brown hair that falls down past her shoulder blades. Her firm form, is of a life of movement and less of rest. Beneath the supple curves there is muscle, and in her gentle hands, there is strength. Lithe arms and nimble hands, toned legs, and strong feet. Skin the color of honey, and eyes cerulean like seas never before seen Zaira is typically bare headed and hair loose about her shoulders, saving her veils for travel. Her ears are pierced multiple times upon the left making a row of five golden rings. While her right lobe is only pierced once and the right nostril of her nose it is not uncommon to see golden hoops worn in both places, not is it unfamiliar to see golden hoops with thin golden chains cutting across her cheek from ear to nose. Clothing wise she favors reds and blues, although black is often intermingled as a sign of her mourning still, but it is less now, than before, the vibrant colors appearing more and more again. Character Concept ”She had fire in her soul it was easy to see How the devil himself could be pulled out of me There were drums in the air as she started to dance Every soul in the room keeping time with their hands” Zaira is a study of contrasts in female form. Dancing is second nature, her graceful step easily turned into sweeping motions like her calling for her flock easily becomes a song. She sings, she dances, and flirts like any young woman. There is patience in her hands, wisdom in her words of years beyond her own, and tenderness in her touch. Yet there is a combative nature to the delicate desert flower, she is argumentative, stubborn, and proud. Put that with her own good luck, and honeyed words that seem to take the sting from any insult, or like a viper spits more venom to the bared wounds, she is at best, a deep running pool. At worse, a viper nestled in a bouquet of dessert roses. A faithful daughter and follower of Yahal, while her faith is without a doubt, her curiosity and independent nature prevents her from staying beneath the sway of others for too long, much to the mourning of her parents. While Zaira will always honor elders, and those in positions of worth, be they honorable and just, she does question things, more for curiosity sake than anything. An answer must be given of satisfactory level to the woman for true peace to be given. Whatever that means. Zaira in most cases, is a creature of warm nature, willing to share her fire, food, or a good song readily. She has a perhaps curious set of ethics. While thievery from the innocent is not acceptable for self, be it for the dire need of another, the actions are deemed acceptable enough although repenting is often needed, to the one from whom things were taken to Yahal. While untested but against a few desert predators and nonfatal encounters with the Kalanue Chaktawe tribe, violence, to protect self and family is acceptable and expected. There might not be much the untrained Shepard could do, but whatever it is she can, would be done without question. She is curious in nature and long in thought and decisions when temper and pride do not get the best of her, yet once a decision is made, often is stood by firmly less proved to be folly. Aside her love for music, songs, and dance. Zaira has a desire to see more than the shifting sands and blowing winds. To leave the lands of her home, and see what lies out beyond the hot sun and clear blue skies, and perhaps find the part that seemed to had been lost. Character History ” Like a piece to the puzzle that falls into place You could tell how we felt from the look on our faces We were spinning in circles with the moon in our eyes No room left to move between you and I We forgot where we were and we lost track of time And we sang to the wind as we danced through the night” Life was unremarkable for Zaira, although many would say she long held the favor of their god, nothing was at all interesting. Zaira was born of the Karim and his wife Nefrit, the first daughter of three, the third child of five, energetic and spontantious, Zaira ran in step with Yahal. Time passed as the child grew she was blessed with grace, sweetness of song, and infectious happiness. Her kindness, intelligence, and passion was something only the Tent could provide. As Zaira grew, the eldest daughter of three it was soon time for her parents to select a suitable husband for their child and after great pains, one had been selected. Later, when he would lay his head upon her lap, Zaira would laugh softly while passing a cloth over his face of the first time they met. He stood so still and firm, his face so set. She remembered looking at his eyes, a happy spring green, belonged upon a face that smile, to a man that laughed, not one so… stoic. He had of all things, been intimidating. Intimidating her new, soon to be husband had been, the times they met always he was reserved and quiet. Yet a day came, when Ahmen gifted his soon to be bride with her engagement gift a necklace that laid spread across her chest. Stones clearer than the cleanest waters lay upon the fabric of her clothes. The invisible wall for a moment disappeared in the wonder and amazement. An embrace, a thankful kiss, a lingering look. A kiss, and a smile shared, and the two parted to return to their families, as butterflies returned to the girl’s stomach. While now, not so much of dread and worry, there was a most unsettling, confusion. As well as anticipation. The next day, Ahmen slept late, and woke sore and weak. The days passed, the date set aside for their marriage approaching and the pair continued their quiet walk while herding, or as the night began to fall, until one day, Ahmen did not stir. Timid steps carried the young woman to her soon to be family’s tent and wide eyes relaxed as a tired face looked up and gave a tired smile. Gliding steps brought the woman beside the bed roll where Ahmen laid, the others that crowded the tent did not matter as she knelt into the cool sands beside his head, and light fingers danced over his brow. For many days she sat like this beside her intended as he was often too weak or tired to walk far. She stayed beside her intended as a rash grew and as days past his disfigurement and disease ravaged the once handsome youth, and claimed an attendant that helped to bathe the man. Apart from the tents they were sent, far into the desert lest others too shared Ahmen’s fate. None dared to visit and those who recalled the handsome youth no longer could bear to look upon him. Yet through it all Zaira remained beside Ahmen, even as the stench of infection grew within the tent, and flesh darkened and oozed foul smelling pus. It was one afternoon, the day the tents were packing to leave the area that the Prophetess came to a weary Zaira. She had already battled against her own Tent to remain behind with the lingering Ahmen. The prophetess regarded the child before her tired and thin that gazed upon her so venomously. Too young for such spirit, and so fierce in her devotion to be swayed from her path. The prophet said nothing but watched the young woman until she returned to her tent to find the one who had became her beloved still. Breath no more filling his chest, giving his heart a breath to beat. Night came by the time her tears ceased and cheeks dried. Outside the tent a fire softly crackled and a chest lay nearby and outside Zaira watched the empty tent before rising. In hand a stick from the fire being picked up dragged upon the walls of the tent as the young woman passed. Letting the stick fall Zaira knelt upon the sands beside the still form of her beloved as the fire ate up the tent walls, the flames warmed the room as the smoke filled the tent. There was no fear, nor was there a cry for death, it was worship. It was sacrifice, trust, and prayer. While there was no shortage of grief in her young heart, the prayer that flowed from her lips were only of thanks, for the young man she knew and grew to love, to Yahal for giving her the strength to remain by his side and tend him until his passing, and his mercy upon them both. Blackness stole her vision as smoke stole her breath. She dreamed perhaps, of lying in fields of green as far as the eye could see, her chest sore throat pained, and the soft leaves of grass blades felt so real she could swear they were true. She laid there for days feeling at peace and home in the grassy field, feeling the touch of water even though rain never fell. Slowly the scent of smoke and burning flesh faded until finally a breeze blew down upon, a voice on its winds still and quiet that spoke to wake. Zaira woke with a start in a tent unfamiliar, with a face she had never before seen to greet her. Another caravan had seen the smoke and followed its trails to find the fire of Zaira and Ahmen’s tent still burning, yet when they arrived a great wind blew through the flames from within and her unconscious form had been seen. Alive and awake, Zaira once again felt the weight of grief upon her heart even in the face of such miracles. While the healing of her body was all but complete, her heart had need of time, and her spirit renewal. The chest the prophetess had left, contained things of wealth, coins, gems, metals, rings and chains. Items she recognized, from her mother, her sister, Ahmen’s mother. She traded them all away to her saviors, who were all too pleased to gift the girl with a horse and supplies, and ask her to remain until they found her families tent. An offer Zaira kindly declined. For two years, Zaira wandered from the desert Eyktol grieving while following the fields of grass she saw within dreams. Barren sands all around her but for the green lands always in the distance in her dreams. She traveled from Eyktol all the way to Sylira, with those peaceful green fields drawing closer and closer to the traveler.

[Zaira]

Training Skills -Dance 20/100 -Slingshot 15/100 -Fire Dancing 20/100 -Riding 10/100 Lore -Lore of Yahal -Lore of Desert Plants

[Zaira]

Equipment and Possessions • 1 Set of Clothing : A blue Abaya with matching face cover lined with silver discs and beads – cloak; A full bottomed, sleeveless red dress with purple accents and scarf – clothes; leather sandals - footwear • 1 Waterskin • 1 Backpack which contains: o 1 Set of Toiletries (comb, brush, soap) o Food for a week o 1 eating knife • 1 large tent (4 person) • large tarp • 100 ft of rope • flint & steel • 2 torches, 1 lantern • bedroll & blanket • fishing tackle & hooks • Slingshot (Hebrean) • a eyktolian desertbred “Nalick” • a full set of tack, and a large set of saddlebags Summer 47 AV 506 Black Leather pants Blue Linen Chemise Natural Cotton Shirt x 3 Red Cotton sash Black Cotton Vest Clappers x 2 Slingshot Bullets (10) x2 Poi (1 pair)

[Zaira]

Ledger 100 gold rimmed mizas -3gm 8 sm Graceful Fire - Summer 47 AV 506 ------- 96gm 2sm Thread List Flashbacks 58th of Summer, 507 AV When the Sands Were Kind Current Summer 509 AV 36th-38th of Summer, 509 AV, Early Evening Simple Waters 45th of Summer, 509 AV, Early Afternoon Sometimes Luck Spills out of the Shoe 47th of Summer, 509 AV, Early Evening Syliras Gate 47th of Summer, 509 AV, Evening Graceful Fire Fall 509 AV 9th of Fall, 509 AV, Morning Into The Night 15th of Fall, 509 AV, Evening Pounding Earth