Masaka

Not Evil - Just Misunderstood Definition of Iksar: Reptilian Biped Race from the EverQuest Realm Chapter 1 Masaka's first memories are that of scaled wolf pups and playing on the sands in the Field of Bone; near the city of Cabilis where she was born. She and her siblings would chase the pups for hours, practicing their skills of strength and dexterity with these wild ones of her native land. She remembers having fun at the time, when her instincts were the only thing driving her, but as she grew and started to develop thoughts of her own, things began to change. Somewhere deep inside this young hatchling of Cazic-Thule, a spark of compassion glowed. More and more she would separate herself and wander off alone, no longer content to simply chase and batter prey. What was the reason behind it? What was prey anyway? She asked her father, but even after his lectures on ancestry, duty, and birthright, she just didn't understand. She began to watch carefully, the hunters and their prey; taking note of what was "necessary to training for battle," as her father had explained. No matter how hard she tried, all she could see was cruelty, and it hurt her to feel that she was a part of it. There simply had to be more to a life than this. As she withdrew more and more into herself, others began to call her a coward. She knew in her heart that this was untrue, but it hurt feeling as if she was a disappointment to her parents. She felt lost, with no one to turn to for guidance... then one day... the summons came. " By the will of the Hierophants of Cabilis, you are hereby summoned to the crimson and spired towers of the Temple of Terror. You have reached the age of rebirth and it is time for you to begin your teachings of the ancients and learn the ways of the shaman. You shall offer this summons to Prime Hierophant Vek and be welcomed. We await your arrival." Masaka was overjoyed and terrified all at the same time. Was this her true calling? Would these teachers be able to guide her to her destiny and away from the pain that had become a part of her everyday life? Only time would tell. Masaka's Father took her to the Temple the next day, leaving her in the care of Hierophant Oxyn. He was very strict and followed the laws of Cazic-Thule to the letter, making sure that his student learned the basics in the way of the dark shaman. Though Masaka did enjoy learning her spells, training in the arts, and longed for the day that she would be ready to study alchemy as she had seen other high shamans of the guild practice, she still had many concerns about why she must follow the laws of Cazic-Thule. "Why is it better to make others afraid than it is to be kind to them?" Her questions created chaos, and again she was feeling more and more the outcast. Chapter 2 Prime Hierophant Vek, the leader of the shaman guild, decided that perhaps this young hatchling simply needed more time to adjust to temple life before continuing with her studies. He assigned Masaka several tasks to perform throughout the city and surrounding areas, hoping that the break from the temple would cause her to realize her destiny more clearly. Had he known then what destiny lay ahead for Masaka, he would have surely locked her up and thrown away the key. Masaka on the other hand, saw this as her final chance to make something of this life that she had been given, and vowed to complete each task no matter how difficult. Each day she would venture out to work at whatever task had been set before her. She saw parts of her homeland that even her older siblings had not yet seen. They were busy studying in their guilds, and not yet ready to leave the safety of the training grounds. Masaka was much too young and inexperienced to be venturing to the places where the Hierophant was sending her, but that didn't matter because she had made a vow to her master, and to herself. She would stay strong and brave no matter what she faced, even if it was her own death. One day while out on one of her errands, Masaka discovered the Swamp of No Hope. She remembered the terrible stories that her father had told about this swamp. ; The horrible monsters that lurked there and the dangers at every turn. Strangely enough though, Masaka felt a peace here that she had not experienced before, and her need for solitude greatly outweighed her fear of this dark and damp place. From then on she visited the swamp every chance she got, curiously following the mosquitoes and wandering after the Froglok Tads that lived there. She quickly learned how to swim, and would spend hours exploring the swamp from the safety and silence of the murky waters. She enjoyed this time, and would often be scolded when she returned to the temple late at night. "I completed the task you set before me Master," was always her answer. As she always returned with proof, there was hardly room for any punishment. During one of the city holiday festivals, Masaka was able to sneak away to the solitude of the swamp. While avoiding one of the deadly Nibblers that lurked there she ran across a curious dwelling she had not seen before. Upon inspection, things looked old and abandoned, but it was not long before a very old voice bellowed out, "Who goes there!?" Masaka about jumped out of her skin at the sound of this voice, tripping over her tail as she turned to run. Seeing this wee one with such fear on her face, the old Lizardman smiled and helped her to her unsteady feet. Once her heart started again, Masaka was able to apologize for intruding, and even managed a shaky bow and garbled greeting. She had always been a bit too curious for her own good, but she enjoyed meeting new people and was soon at ease with the old Hermit. Now when she visited the swamp, she brought bread and milk in exchange for grand stories of far off lands full of strange creatures and scale less beings. Her heart would soar at the very thought of such enchanting things; true stories or not, she enjoyed having a friend. Chapter 3 Early on a cold and gray morning, the sound of the guards yelling outside a window awoke Masaka from her dreams. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she began to piece together what was happening; some foreign invader had landed on the beach in the Field of Bone! Everyone scurried as news quickly traveled from mouth to ear. The Adults where busy discussing matters of weapons and tactics when Masaka slowly approached the main hall of the temple. Then she overheard something that made her stomach jump straight to her throat, "... it's not an invasion, but a lone soft skin found unconscious on the beach." Had the old Hermit's stories been true? She had to know! Without a second thought she dashed out the side door, down the road, and straight to the beach. She hesitated only once as she entered the shark filled waters, "I have to know," she told herself. She swam parallel to the shore for quite a way before she could see the crowd gathering around a small section of the open beach. She remained in the water, hoping that no one would see her. A master swimmer by this time because of all of her time spent in the swamp, she was able to get quite close to the shore without being noticed. As she slowly peeked above the water line, she saw a sight like none she had seen before. What she saw amazed her; there lying helpless on the beach was a being with no scales, pink skin, fur on its head, and no tail! What was this thing? Where did it come from? Masaka was so entranced that she nearly got too close. She was able to quickly sneak away before she had been seen, and dashed as fast as she could toward the swamp. She had to go see her friend the Hermit and find out what to do. She was so out of breath by the time she reached the swamp that she could hardly explain what had happened. Concerned, the Hermit went back to town with her to see what he could learn. The events that followed would change Masaka's life forever. Masaka waited for her friend at the edge of town in such a nervous frenzy that she could hardly contain herself. He came back with news of a half-elf maiden (whatever that was) who had somehow become lost at sea, barely making it to shore alive. Now her fate was in the hands of the Elders, and the old Hermit was going to try to lobby for her release. The next few days were the longest that Masaka can ever remember; the trial of this young maiden for invading the Iksar homeland under "any" circumstances, and the punishment of any Iksar outcast who would dare to question the Elders on their decisions. The sentence was enslavement; for the maiden, and for Masaka's only friend. Chapter 4 Heartbroken, Masaka stood at the edge of the beach looking out over the vast waters of Timorous Deep. The maiden had come from out there, somewhere. There was more to life than this rock she had once been proud to call home; these brethren who had forsaken and now destroyed her. She felt numb as she entered the water one last time, surrendering her fate to the sea. Emptiness took her over as she swam; the water rippling before her like a hypnotic blanket waiting to engulf her soul. Time slipped away as she grew hungry and tired, and when night fell the darkness clouded her thoughts until she could no longer make sense of them. Her body and mind drifted into nothingness. Some greater power somewhere must have been looking out for Masaka that day, for when she awoke several days later, she found herself in a small room, carefully tucked into a tiny bed. She tried to sit up, but her weight seemed too heavy for her muscles to bear. Where was she? What had happened? As she struggled to clear her thoughts, a door began to open. She lost consciousness once more as a little pink creature with very large furry feet slowly crept into the room. During her weeks of recovery, she would learn of Grandpa and Grandma Halfling. They were kind and patient with her. When she was strong enough, Masaka was given language lessons along side their wee Grandson, Vethor. Masaka and Vethor had a grand time together. He would pull on her tail and she would turn him upside down by his big purple feet until he would giggle so hard he couldn't breathe. She began to feel joy in her heart again, and when Grandpa and Grandma asked her if she would like to remain with them, she cried the happiest cry she had ever known. There was only one thing standing in the way. Would the townspeople accept this outcast as one of their own? Grandpa tried hard not to look worried, but Masaka wasn't fooled. Would she once again be ridiculed and rejected? Not for what she thought, or from the questions that she asked, but simply because of the race to which she had been born. Grandpa went to the Mayor and made a special request for an assembly of the town Elders. He would need their approval and permission before Masaka would be allowed to stay. It was at that meeting that Grandpa and Grandma proudly stood together and told the fantastic tale. How Grandpa had been fishing in Timorous Deep that dreadful day. How he had beached his boat on an island for lunch and a nap when he saw something floating nearby and went to investigate. Being the kindly druid that he was, he explained how he knew that leaving this young creature behind meant her death, and so he used his powers to bring her to his home. There in the peaceful mud hut hovel, Grandma had used her knowledge in cleric healing to bring Masaka back from near death, and now they wished her to stay. Chapter 5 The Counsel was dumb struck as the Mayor blessed Grandpa and Grandma for staying true to their teachings. The couple kneeled in reverence as they were dismissed by the Mayor saying, "Many thoughts to being made on this. Return home and you be summoned for our answering." Deliberation went on for days, until finally Grandpa could stand it no more. He returned to the Counsel against orders and pleaded for them to at least meet Masaka before they made their decision. To his relief, they agreed. Masaka was taken to town to meet the Elders the next day. With Grandpa holding her hand the whole time, she tried hard to smile and not look terrified. After what seemed like hours of silence, the Mayor cleared his throat and said to Grandpa, "You a good man, but this creature born into evil. It well now, it should be returned to its home me thinking." Masaka still didn't understand much of the language, but she could tell by the look on Grandpa's face that the news was not good. As she looked around at the scowling faces, she began to cry. Grandpa put his arm around her, and as he comforted her said, "Not everything is as seems on the outside. Me seeing good in this wee one. Please!?" As Grandpa himself began to tear, the room grew even more silent than it had been before. This band of skeptics was now beginning to understand what Grandpa and Grandma had seen in Masaka. Perhaps there was a spark of goodness deep inside this evil that could be nurtured and made to grow. Many whispers were passed around the room as they debated Masaka's fate. Grandpa dried her tears and they stood there together as they waited for a final word. In the end, it was decided that, under the condition that she be instructed in the way of the druid and cleric under the watchful eye of the guild leaders, Masaka would be given permission to stay. As they left the Guardian Stronghold, Masaka ran for the mud hut hovel where Grandma and Vethor nervously waited. She burst through the door and cried, "Me can stay! Me can stay!" There was much crying, singing, and dancing in the little hovel that evening, but nothing made Masaka happier than when Vethor tried to say her name. He had tried so hard to learn her name, but it always came out jumbled and sloppy. Grandma tried to help, but he just couldn't get it right. When Grandpa and Masaka laughed, they were promptly scolded by Grandma for teasing. They shyly looked at one another and tried to contain themselves, but it wasn't working very well. Grandpa said, "Oh, just let him call her Lizzy. You not minding that, is you Masaka?" She didn't know what that meant, but gave a wide cheesy smile in agreement anyway. Grandma said, "Well, they be growing up together, he should be calling her Sissy then maybe." After a second or two of silent glances, Vethor made the decision on his own. "SIZZY," he squealed as he pulled Masaka's tail and ran. Everyone bellowed in laughter as Masaka ran after him, even the ever reverent cleric. Masaka had found a home, a family, and people that would teach her the ways of her heart. Chapter 6 As Masaka and Vethor grew older, they would listen intently to Grandpa as he took them to the Tagglefoot farm where they were taught in the ways of the druid. Grandma would chase after them with the scrub brush after they returned from a hard day of play in the woods of Misty Thicket. "You be clean and bestest dressed on the morrow wee ones," she would say. They would look at each other nervously as they realized this meant an entire grueling morning of the best behavior they could muster. Visiting the Chapel of Mischief with Grandma was always a scary thing. The clerics of the village always scowled at Masaka as she went by. Vethor was so protective of his Sizzy that he would stick out his chest and scowl right back at them. They were kind to Masaka of course, out of respect for Grandma, but no matter how Masaka tried, she would always be looked at with a cynical eye from these followers of Lord Bristlebane. Somehow though, Grandma kept her head held high and never let any of them know that she was anything less than proud of her rag-tag two. Many seasons of growth later, Masaka would find a way to combine this life with what she had learned in the ways of the shaman from her native land. Taking the good where she could find it, and leaving behind the things that did not seem true and good in her heart. She became a compassionate and noble caster of the spirits. She must still be very careful outside the comforts of her lovely Rivervale, but she understands that this is simply the way of things. Several times she has even ventured as far as her native homeland of Kunark. Back across the waters of Timorous Deep that had almost taken her life so long ago. Back to the sands in the Field of Bone, her birth city of Cabilis, and the Swamp of No Hope where she had met the Hermit. She is accepted there because of her appearance, because of her heritage, but there is only one place that she can truly call home. Written by: Masaka Spiritcaster on: 3/29/04 The Choice Chapter 1 Masaka began a journey to Luclin, the moon which satellites Norrath, to find a shaman that was rumored to have knowledge of experimental alchemy potions. She had become quite adept in the arts of alchemy, healing, and ability enhancement since her beginnings as a frightened hatchling. Experience had made her a formidable foe against the beasts of evil across the land, and her reputation as a, "kind and honorable Halfling" had grown throughout the many realms. Alchemy though, would be her passion, and she strove to increase her knowledge. After many days travel she reached the Teleportation Pad of the Magicians and purchased the magic stone that would channel the magical forces and take her to her destination. When the Nexus Magician called her to approach, she had a feeling of wonder and apprehensions fill her heart. The Magician’s chant caused the stone to glow in her hand, and with a mighty flash of light, she felt the ground beneath her fade. It was a strange sensation of floating and spinning that she was quite used to by now, but it always made her feel as though her body was going to fall away and leave her spirited off on some ghostly journey from which she would never return. Little did she know at the time; how accurate that thought would prove. The magical forces that drove the teleportation were strong; normally a journey would take only a few seconds. This time, something was wrong. Masaka's head began to pound as seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into indeterminable time. Her vision grew dim as her body began to writhe with pain. Her thoughts were flooded with images from her past, and as she fell into unconsciousness, memories of Vethor flashed through her mind like a scattered dream. Chapter 2 Sunlight shown brightly in Masaka's eyes as they began to open, "Vethor", she whispered. A sweet voice answered, "Masaka, wake Dear." Struggling to see, Masaka thought she heard Grandma Halfling's voice, "Don't be afraid, all is well." Numb and confused, Masaka's voice trembled. "I ... I can't move." Again the voice answered, "That will pass in time Dear." As Masaka's vision cleared and the feeling returned to her limbs, she slowly lifted herself up. Before her, in all her glory, was the Goddess Tunare. Masaka fell to her knees. "Arise child.” said the Goddess. Slowly, Masaka made it to her feet. "I am sorry the journey was so difficult child, but it could not be helped.” said the Goddess. "We do not have much time, so listen, and I shall tell you why I have summoned you." Masaka bowed her head in obedience and then rose to face the Queen of all. "You have faithfully served the good at heart, defended the week, and battled bravely against those who would corrupt the land. You have proven yourself in word and deed, and now it is time for you to choose your reward." Masaka's eyes widened. "You have earned rest, and if it is your wish, you may remain here with me, free from all strife to the end of your days." Tears welled in Masaka as she tried to contain her joy. "If you wish, you may return home in glory and favor, blessed by my hand and revered by all." Pride swelled in Masaka's breast at the thought of returning to Rivervale, blessed by the Goddess of her Grandpa and brother-ling, Vethor. "If it is your wish, you may embark on another mission that will further your growth in my name." A rush of excitement boiled in Masaka's blood. "I cannot tell you which to choose, this you must decide alone. Rest here and I shall return." With a glimmer of light, the Goddess was gone. Masaka stood in amazement for a long time, questions flooding her mind. As darkness began to fall, she curled up under a nearby oak and fell fast asleep. Chapter 3 Masaka awoke to the sound of birds singing in her tree. A small brook trickled nearby, and wildlife was bountiful in every direction. She had never known such peace as was to be found here. As if in answer to her hunger, a food basket and flask of wine appeared. Gleefully she helped herself to the grandest meal she had ever had. Full and rested, she began to wander in her new surroundings. The colors were bold; it was a beauty like she had never seen. Several days went by and Masaka was happy, blissfully happy, but the Goddesses words rang in her ears, "... you must decide ...” Her mind struggled with what she should do. What was the right choice? Was there a right, or a wrong? What of her family? What of her Vethor? Even in this paradise, she was beginning to be overwrought with grief. On the fifth day, the Goddess reappeared. Masaka bowed low, knowing that the time had come for her to choose. The Queen of all shone like the brightest star, and smiled with such ease as to make one cry. She caressed Masaka's face and said, "I know your questions are great, but you must understand that in this I cannot guide you. You must act on faith alone." Masaka wanted to cry with grief as much as she wanted to jump for joy. How could she leave the presence of this Wonder? Was she worthy to stay? "If only Vethor were here.” she thought. The Goddess smiled, "Don’t worry child, no matter what you choose, Vethor will understand. Now, what is your wish?" Masaka gazed into the brilliant eyes of the Goddess, and her mind cleared. "I choose to grow, my Queen.” she said. The Goddess smiled, "Then let all know, that from this day to the end of time, you are a blessed of Tunare, and keeper of my flame." The Goddesses hands glowed like fire, and with a flash, Masaka was transformed. "Keep your faith my child, and grow." In an instant, the Goddess was gone and Masaka found herself standing on a road amongst rolling hills. She felt strange, as if she was a toddler attempting to walk for the first time; but she felt strong and renewed. In the reflection of a nearby pond, she saw her gift for the first time. Though her markings were the same, and she still had scales and a tail, she was no longer an Iksar of Kunark. Nor was she an adopted Halfling of Rivervale. She was, in all Tunare's glory, a beautifully winged Dragon. ... To be continued. Written by: Masaka Spiritcaster on: 4/19/04