[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

I've given this a lot of thought and done a lot of weighing of time (lots) versus commitments (some), and have decided that I simply can't pass on this game. So I'm hereby submitting a full character. I know, Durelin, that you said you didn't want a lot of females, but Aylwen mentioned in Jasara's profile that she was the oldest daughter of the tribal leader, meaning she has at least one younger sister. I'd really like to play Jasara's younger sister (also a convert), if it would be acceptable. If not, I've also written a male character and can submit that one instead.

Sophia

Character Description Form:

Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES: Quest for the Ainereg, Truth in a Dark Place, Reclaiming the City, and In the Footsteps of the Grey Company. I’m also involved in the planning for the Princess Guard, and will be owning A House Divided this summer.

Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? – YES: The Green Dragon

For your character please include:

NAME: Khasia (Jasara’s younger sister)

AGE: 16

RACE: Men (tribal converts)

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Khasia has also been trained with the broadsword, but it is far too heavy for her, and she prefers a stone tipped spear or a small bow.

APPEARANCE: Khasia is very small and slender. She also has unmanageable frizzy dark hair, but she’s put it into a cluster of small braids and rarely ever takes it out. Her eyes are wide and brown. Khasia is slightly more feminine than her sister and generally wears a flowing off white skirt and an off white tunic. She scorns bright colors and symbolic embroidery as useless traditions of the old and all her clothing is unadorned. She has no shoes, and has toughened the soles of her feet enough that she can walk on hot sand without burning them.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Khasia is levelheaded and calm. She makes decisions only with much deliberation and she is skilled at controlling her impulses. She is extremely power hungry, and as self control is the only power she currently wields she tends to overuse it. As a rule, Khasia is very resistant to authority and won’t take criticism. She puts far too much weight on her own opinion and secretly believes she’s invulnerable. She doesn’t believe that Jasara is a god, but does think she is a powerful seer and is slightly in awe of her. She follows her lead in most areas but has convinced herself that this is because Jasara is doing what Khasia wants to do anyway.

HISTORY: Khasia is the youngest daughter of the tribal leader. She and Jasara have never been close, during her childhood Khasia was a tattletale and was extremely spoiled. The night Jasara prophesied the rainstorm Khasia had been lying right beside her. She had heard Jasara speak, and it was through her quick tongue that the youth of the tribe first heard of the prediction. At first when Jasara was hailed by all as a goddess Khasia was disdainful, but as she grew older her own differences of opinion with her father and the other elders pushed her into the group of young people her sister led. She believes firmly that the customs of the older members of the tribe were designed to hold her and her generation back, and keep them subservient. Above all she desires power, and she is frustrated that no matter which side she chooses she doesn’t get nearly enough to satisfy her.

FIRST POST:
The sun rose red over the eastern horizon, and Khasia was awake early. Jasara’s stirring had woken her, and she looked up to hear her softly telling one of the boys that nothing was wrong. Khasia gazed after Jasara as she strode toward the stream, wondering what was on her sister’s mind that woke her so early. Jasara was often distracted.

Khasia lay still for a long moment, savoring the feeling of her warm blankets before the day’s hot work began. Then she stretched and crawled out of her sleep bag. The same boy who had spoken to Jasara sat up again. “You too, Khasia?” he asked. Khasia bundled her sleep bag up and tied it securely before prodding the boy with her toe.

“It’s a fine morning, lazy, and I’m going to run.” Khasia loved to run, just for the feeling of it, and she often ran in the mornings before the sun turned too hot. It gave her solitude—a chance to get away from the irritating fawning of the other young people on her sister. She used the quiet to plan as well. Jasara couldn’t always be right, and where she failed Khasia intended to be right.

This morning was no different than most, and Khasia ran through the short grasses, her bare feet sending up small clouds of dust as they pounded the sunbaked ground. Her shoulder length hair was in braids and the hard knots of fabric she’d used to tie them off bounced against her neck as she ran. When she was a good distance from the tribe’s camp Khasia slowed. She was near the creek, north of the place where Jasara had been headed. When she reached the water she dropped to the ground and drank thirstily. A few of the small berries that grew on the low bushes beside the creek were a sweet reward after her run.

Khasia sat there for a few moments, thinking about the day ahead. It would be long and filled with irritating orders from people whose minds were as wrinkled and faded as their faces. Her face twisted and she spit the seed from a berry into the dirt, burying it absently with a brown toe. For now it must be endured. There weren’t enough of the young people to leave the old and start again. Safety resided in numbers, and for now the old ones were at least good for that.

Setting her face Khasia rose and made her way back to camp. Her pace was a slow jog, giving her plenty of time to mull over her thoughts while she ran. She gave the sun another glance, it’s color still red long after it would usually have turned a fierce yellow. The day was going to be strange, Khasia thought, and wondered vaguely what it would hold.