Katrana
| Katrana K'Veeran Al-Veeran (I) | |
| Wyld Huntress, Wyldess, Grand Shamaness | |
| Lesser Goddess | |
| Created | 2x |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Retired | March 9, 2005 |
| Race | Gnome |
| Hometown | Gla-Shorn's Realm |
| Classes | Shaman/Warrior |
| Last Seen | Currently Active |
| Followed | Lorna Molo Cordir |
| Spouse | Rashiel Solaron |
| Partner | Gann Grismal Abender Stormreaver |
| Areas Written | Northern Stronghold |
| Immorted | September 15, 2002 Restored April 12, 2011 Lesser (2nd): November 19, 2011 |
| Following | Wyld Hunt |
File:Kat5.wav - Katrana's personalized login sound.
Mud Contributions:
Katrana and her husband, Solaron, co-wrote the area, the Northern Stronghold.
Current Description:
Immortal (1/23/2012 to 2/19/2012):
(Written by Cordir)
A precocious little gnome girl stands before you, ebon tresses flowing loosely over her thin shoulders. She has an impish look on her face, as if considering some sort of mischief - but whether it is cruel or simply playful is not clear. Her eyes flash crimson, to match the potent aura that flows about her, and she tilts her head to one side. In a swift movement and with a fierce expression, she snatches a pair of bloody scissors from her belt and makes a quick cutting motion which is echoed by the faintest hint of a distant death-cry. As quickly as the blades snapped closed, a hint of maturity, wisdom and self-knowledge is seen in her eyes - then it fades as her attention turns elsewhere. A brightly colored ball appears with a soft *POP!* of displaced air and she grabs it with a chortle of glee that underscores her youth. Yet the memory of that something that stirred in her gaze haunts you, and you cannot see her as an innocent any more.
Immortal (7/3/2011):
A slight pull on your hand causes you to look down. "Do you want to play?! I'll be the Hunter!", the petite gnome asks you. She giggles and pulls your hand harder trying to bring you to eye level. As you resist, the wind stirs bringing the scent of a spring rain. She starts to growl, as things are obviously not going as she wishes. Thunder crashes and rain starts to fall. The rain glistens off of the gnome's black mane, and dried roses braided within burst into full bloom. Curious, you kneel to her. She giggles in success, and the skies brighten. She locks her eyes with yours for just a fleeting second. In that single moment a flood of emotion overtakes you...love, sorrow, hate, passion, anger, more than your thoughts can process. As your mind clears, you notice her eyes are never the same color twice, they constantly shift from hue to hue. The Wyldess looks to you and then to the bloody shears in her hands. They were not there a moment ago. "No, it is not your time yet. We'll play when it is!" She skips off into the distance, leaving a trail of crimson splatters. Your vision fades for a moment, the splatters, the dampness of the rain, the shears are gone. Only the giggling gnome child with the unsettling eyes remains.
Immortal (Unknown to 6/24/2011:2/19/2011 to 4/14/2012):
Her eyes, the color of hatred, the color of insanity, bespeak a horrible pain beyond
comprehension and an indomitable will to bear through it. Her hair, a wild black mane,
hangs low, to her waist. Its lustrous strands reflect the light, sometimes swaying as
though they were in the slightest of winds. Entwined in one such strand is a single
feather, its dove-gray aura and blood-spatters bringing up sudden questions...
questions which may never be answered.
A simple tiara fashioned from the jawbone of a dragon frames her hair around her
sun-darkened face - a face shining with childish glee, wizened with age, hardened
by hatred. Briars, some in full bloom and some gray with age and decay, twist their
way down her neck, peeking out from under her garments. Small droplets of blood, from
the myriad thorns, mingle with the small droplets of rain, giving them their sustenance.
A low, long clarion call sounds in the distant. A baying of hounds, eager for the Hunt,
comes to your ears. She looks at you, her eyes holding yours for an instant, sweeping
you away into a river of chaos. Floundering, you focus on the eyes and find your way. A
voice whispers in your mind, whispers of truth, insanity, hate, love and death.
"You.. you who blindly march in rank, you have already earned my contempt. I represent
change. Must you change? No... change is not mandatory. Neither is survival. They just
go hand in hand."
She releases you with a contemptuous flick of her eyes and disappears - but the image of
those two, ever-changing orbs is burned into your mind.
Immortal (4/14/2012 to ?):
The woman before you is shrouded in a swirling mass of shadows, tendrils oozing and
feeling their way along the floor. Your eyes strain to pierce the murky veil when
she makes a dismissive gesture and the shadows disappear, oozing back into the small
frame of the figure. As though released by the gesture, the cloying scent of roses
reaches your nostrils, mixed with an underlying scent of decay. The smell brings
scenes to mind - rotting corpses of felled horrors, pools of red blood from fallen
foes, black rosebushes sprouting from recent graves.
The woman herself almost makes you long for her cloak of shadows to return. A youthful
face, free of wrinkles or lines, holds eyes that are far too old. Eyes that flash with
hatred, rage and madness. The lips, full and bright red, look as though they once were
used to curling up into smiles, but now they are drawn back in a feral snarl.
Her clothing is tattered and battle-worn: a forest-green tunic, the hem of which appears
to have been dripped in blood at some point in the recent past, brown leather pants that
have rips and tears, displaying pale, white skin beneath. Over it all is a writhing suit
of living armor. Thick brambles of green and brown vines covered in long thorns are in
constant motion, moving continuously up and down her arms, legs and torso. She shows no
hint of pain at the thorns that constantly dig into her flesh and rip her clothing
despite the thick drops of crimson that trail behind her.
Slung across her back, as though it were a weapon itself, is a long, bone-handled pair of
shears, razor sharp. The remains of hundreds of tattered threads have been coiled about
the handle, as though prized for some reason.
The Hunt has been called, are you the prey?
Mortal Descriptions:
Mortal - July 2001:
(Written by Cordir)
Katrana, Grand Shamaness of the Black Conclave:
People often make the mistake of overlooking gnomes, both literally and metaphorically. Even though she is a slender, petite example of her race, there can be no mistaking the mystical power and strength that flow about her like a ghostly wind. Runes and sigils of power glint, gleam and flicker upon her armaments which she visibly wears with a dislike. If the world spun to her liking, the Shaman's path would be her whole life, now that the one soul that lightened it is gone. Her eyes are a deep amethyst, and hold memories and lost hope from ages long past the recall of many who walk the earth. Despite the pain of loss that aches within her, this woman has not turned a dark gaze upon humanity or surrendered to the mindless bloodlust of her fellows, and there is compassion and humor found in her face. Her shoulder-blade length black hair has been bound back out of the way in an intricate plait that resembles a sheaf of dark wheat, and here and there within the braid are symbols carved in bright stones, polished bone, and dried blooms. Reaching up, she touches one of the flowers, and it firms, deepens in color, and opens as fresh and dew- touched as when she first plucked it. She smiles, a sweet and tender expression so filled with marvel and gladness that it transforms her face, almost causing you to forget the crimson aura that surrounds it. A flash of light upon her left hand, seemingly the reflection off of the plain band upon her third finger draws her attention inward, and the Grand Shamaness cloaks herself in totems and departs, leaving an elusive scent of mysterious, deep green forests in her wake.
Mortal - September 6, 2001:
(Written by Cordir)
Katrana, Shamaness-Adept of the Chosen of Fate
The petite, well-made form of the gnome shamaness before you instantly brings to mind images of a high, rushing waterfall, pouring down in a thundering roar amidst the secret depths of a hidden forest glen, or the intricate perfection of a gleaming, dew-covered spider's web. Only within the grace of nature could an appropriate metaphore be found, for she epitomizes the essential delicate yet deadly balance found therein. Eyes the color of unmined amethyst gaze steadily into yours, seemingly stripping away the fascade presented to others and seeing the truths that lies beneath. That gaze is staggering; how can she know so much of life and death, love's sorrow and loss, and maintain her boundless inquisitive innocence, all in the same heart? Her answering smile is quiet, knowing, and she nods as if to acknowledge a question you are not even certain you know how to verbalize.
The wind stirs her hair, most bound back in entwining braids that resemble a sheaf of dark wheat, and plays with the dried ivy and flowers, carved bone, and polished stones that decorate her black mane. Still holding your gaze, she reaches up and removes one preserved rose. Cupping it in her hands, closing her eyes, she breathes upon it gently, whispering words you cannot discern. The blossom opens, ripe and dewey as the day it was plucked. She offers it to you, hoping that you will understand the lesson and message it carries. Her expectant expression fades slightly, and she nods once more. "May the wisdom of the Triat open your eyes further, friend."
WHO Lists:
Gno [ Sh:26 ] Katrana K'Veeran in search of her true color *GaNn* (November 12, 1997) Gno [ Sh:29. .. .. .. . ] Katrana: dreamer of devils and an angel *GaNn* (January, 1998) Gno [ Questor ] Katrana: Tiger who belongs to *GaNn* (February 15, 1998) Gno [ Questor ] Katrana: Tiger Guard BGen, one of the High Council (April 26, 1998) Gno [ Wa: 8 Sh:30 ] Katrana:Tiger that loves pink and Abender *TG*HC* (July, 1999) Gno [ Sh:29 Wa:23 ] Katrana:Bladed Handmaiden to Azat *Sol/Fate* (May 7, 2002) Gno [ Wa:30 Sh:30 ] Katrana: Pinking Bladed Huntress of Fate *Solaron* (September 9, 2002) Gno [ Ambassador ] Katrana walking with her Hounds through Lleheibwen*S* (November 1, 2002) Gno [ Demigoddess ] Katrana: It's not MY fault you worship the wrong god(dess)! (April 4, 2004) Gno [ Demigoddess ] Katrana: Cruel, but cute. So I'm worth it. (September 9, 2004) Gno [ Sh:26 Wa:23 ] Katrana, Favored of Fate *Shaman-Adept*Shaman info* (October 2, 2001) Gno [ Garden Queen ] Katrana hunts the vile look-a-like garden gnomes. (June 21, 2011) Gno [ Garden Queen ] Katrana now loves garden gnomes...Stabby stabby! (June 21, 2011) Gno [ Demigoddess ] Katrana:Skipping through the crimson splatter#Wyld (June 24, 2011)
Character History:
(Written for entry into the Chosen of Fate, circa 2002)
"Ice Princess". The words ring in my ears still. The frozen heir to a frozen land. Well, once-heir, might I add. I remember it all vividly, the memories flash through my mind like wildfire.....and at nights, my dreams reveal more then idly wanderings of a tired mind. It wasn't always like this; I didn't always know my past as well....
I was born in what many would call a frozen wasteland. Glas'horn's Realm, a land of glacial mountains and avalanches, a land of frost giants and snow-blindness, of ice-mazes and yeti. Many would say I was unlucky for my birthplace; perhaps a few years ago, I would have agreed. I was lucky, back then, as I was born of royal blood. I was one of two sisters. I was the eldest, and perhaps most spoiled, of the daughters, and this went to my head. My younger sister, Mikita, was beautiful and talented in the arts, but I....I had been tested and I had passed the Master Shaman's exam. I had the spark - the flame of magic that supported the area my family ruled. It was my father's shamanic talent that had forged this icy-kingdom, and it was my shamanic ability that would lead it into the future. That was my greatest delight - and perhaps my downfall as well. I grew haughty. I was cold, snide, and often immature. The servants called me the Ice Princess, and soon the commoners did as well.
It didn't bother me, at first. I took it as a compliment. I took all I had for granted, and now I regret that daily. I began to take small forays into the wilderness outside the "safe" boundaries of my father's territory, surrounded by an entourage of guards. I was intent on expanding the holdings of my family - I would be the Ice Princess, if they so deemed me - and I would become the Ice Queen, their savior. I would single-handedly turn take my father's holdings and carve an empire out of it. Alas, for the ideas of youth.
It was during one of these forays into the wilderness that we became lost in what I can only now recollect as an ice maze. Twisting tunnels of icy walls or frosty, brittle branches blocked off entire paths, and the glare from the sun nearly blinded us. The yeti caught us off guard. Two of my guards fell, and the rest ran to attack. I backed against the curtain of branches, certain I was doomed. How wrong I was....and how right.
My guards were dying, surely. The troll was wounded, sorely, perhaps even mortally, but my guards were as well. Perhaps I should have done something; I had learned some few things from the Master Shaman, but the fear paralyzed me. It wasn't until I heard a crack behind me that I realized the dying troll was the least of my worries.
Rising out of what I took to be a fold in the ground, two large men stood. I call them "men", for they looked like men, roughly, save for the fact that they were nearly 13 feet tall. These frost giants captured me, and trussed me up as neatly as a pig. I was taken to a large cavern, where it seemed that there nomadic tribe had taken up residence for the 'winter.' Perhaps if I had spoken their language I could have told them of my identity and have been ransomed back to my family. As it was, their language sounded like gargling to me, and I thought my situation hopeless. I was cast in a rough-hewn cavern, amongst a host of other creatures and ex-adventurers caught. It seemed, from what I could gather, that we were to be sold as slaves, once the passes were opened and the slaving ships were sailing again. Those days, as miserable as they were, passed all too swiftly.
I still remember the morning we left. I woke, and my breath turned to fog in front of me, but it was still warmer then usual. We were chained together, and led in wagons to the shore, where we were led onto a huge, rickety old ship. We weren't chained in the brig, or any such thing. That would be wasting our manpower...no, we were chained to the oars, and manned them ourselves....that was the hardest two months of my life. Lost on the heavy seas, fighting waves and the occasional sea snake....but finally we reached our destination, a small cove east of seaside, where we were unloaded unceremoniously and reloaded into large wicker cages. The days blended together then - we were purposely starved, I believe, to ensure we would not care where we went or why. Thus, I almost didn't realize what was happening until it was nearly over - it was the dark of night, with even the moon hidden behind a curtain of clouds, when a piercing whistle cut through the air. A group of rough men jumped from the bushes, brigands I thought. How ironic - the wicked feeding upon the wicked - when I realized that they too, had the chains of slavery on, yet only their manacles remained. They fought with a fervor I've never seen the equal to. No great skill was involved, just brute force and passion...and they won. We were freed. At first, of course, I wouldn't believe it....but slowly, as we were nurtured back to health in their ragtag camp, once again believed.
It was a gnome by the name of Tanstaafl, a priestly type, who opened my eyes then and there, to what I was, and what I had been. None of them had heard of homeland, so I was taken to the only other place a young gnome could go - Thistlerock. At first, I was merely the village orphan, but in time, once again, my spark revealed itself, and I was apprenticed to the Grand Shaman....
Time passed, I was young and happy. I met a human, he called himself GaNn....it probably wasn't his real name, but I never cared to ask. We fell in love, and were happy. He left, unfortunately, on a trek to the southern continent.....when he came back, he was different. Changed.... and time passed. I worshiped the Lady Lorna, Mistress of the Flying Tigers. There, too, I found love.... of course, I was young and impetuous still. Abender was a rock I could anchor to, with a romanticism about him I'd never encountered....but people change. I changed, I should say.... I met Grismal, and thought then perhaps that I had learned enough to know what real feelings are...but again, Fate proved to know more. Lady Lorna was a wonderful Goddess, but She was raised above even her mighty level, and I was left again, bereft.
It was then that I met Rashiel, a dwarven adventurer, slightly eccentric and wild, but also understanding. He, too, had been left....his God, Thaygar, had departed the Realms, and Rashiel was broken hearted. He taught me much of Thaygar, and his words. We searched for another like him, and in our naievete, believed it lay in the Black Conclave. We joined together....and withered together. The Black Conclave call themselves a machine, and they are....but not how they see it. They slowly remove the life, the love, the spirit, out of their victims, and themselves, and replace it with a burning hatred of everything and everyone. Rashiel, sickened by it, soon left the following, and, by decree of Molo, our marriage was annulled. I stayed, hoping to make some change, to show Rashiel that the Conclave had kept some shred of their previous glory and honor. I was sadly mistaken....I have finally learned the error of my ways. But is it too late? As I stand here now, back in my past home in Glas'Horn, reunited with my family, I weigh the sides. What do I do? Where do I go? What does Fate have in store for me next?
RP Room Echos
When Katrana had made the decision to go for Immortality, she still had a few levels to gain. To help encourage her along the way, I made a series of room echoes, to keep her spirits up and focused on the goal: her own following, the Wyld Hunt. I would randomly use one of these, depending on what area she was traveling in. All of them alluded to her following concept in one way or another. - Cordir (talk) 12:21, 31 July 2012 (MST)
- A shadow passes over the full moon above. Then another.
- A flock of ravens circles overhead, strangely silent.
- A hound of the Wild Hunt was last here, traveling in circles.
- A Fire Elemental screams, "I die for you, that your Flame burn brightly to Ascensions, Servants of the Wyld!"
- A Fire Elemental shifts for a moment, taking on an ebon hue.
- A Fire Elemental whispers as it dies, 'Remember me, for purification.'
- The dancing flames cast strange shadows on the wall, as if a horned being stood somewhere nearby.
- A hunting dog was last here, travelling south.
- The eerie sound of hounds baying in the distance sends shivers up your spine.
- Something moves in the shadows nearby, four legged and moving swiftly.
- A pale white dog with a blood red muzzle stands silently watching you for a moment, then disappears into the flames.
Katrana's Retirement Announcement:
The winds gust to an incredible degree, seeming to unleash its fury upon you as you open this note. The handwritten script is chaotic at best,
changing styles throughout the entirety of the letter.
Greetings to all in the Realm,
My time has come. I shall be leaving this world. The world grows...stagnant...Something against my nature. Too dull, too dry, too predictable.
My retirement probably does not even come as a surprise. No one is surprised by what occurs, as Threads constantly seem aware of their surroundings,
even that which is hidden. In such a state, the chaotic, those that feed on the surprise grow bored. My pack and I have caused much chaos in this
Realm, changed lives, changed the shape of followings, even changed the landscape. I can say that my Hunt has the skill some could only dream of,
and I am very proud to have been the deity of each of them. For they have the talents, the skills to cut the Threads of many, that some could only
imagine of.
My Huntsman, Solaron, I watched him grow in skill...with a slain Thread count of well over 100 individals...It brings a tear to this Goddess' eye.
He brought so much chaos into the realm...And so much love into my life.
My cuddles, Ink...My dear, dear Swarf. You made me proud dear one. I still laugh at the many times people would quake when you walked by. And
how they would brag that they lasted a round of battle with you. And how few would even stand up to you. My dear Ink, you grew bored as you
reached the top. Attaining the greatest level, and even the most brave wincing with fear in your presence.
Arianas, my snugglykins. You are crazy. You would do anything for the following, even if it was to die to an avatar just so the following could
say, 'We killed the most powerful avatar, and win the quest given to us by the Implementor.'
Wunkathew, my hilarious little bird. What can I say. You are my court jester. The funny factor in my mean, witchy state. Your drive to aid
those whenever and where ever is something that I wish every Hunt had. I remember times you went into a battle at half health and mana just
because someone would say "battle going on here." It meant alot to see that type of dedication to a following. And would you get to 50 already,
maybe people will actually help you now instead of try to kill you:)
Docness, I'm sorry I wasn't lucky enough to have you in my pack earlier. You are a great Hunter. And a great shammy thief! Hurricane, hailstorm,
and steal, who can go wrong? Right lovely?
To the rest of my pack...I love each and every one of you, you know that. I'd do whatever I could, whenever I could for each of you. For all my
lovelies, was the reason I had not left the Realm sooner. I leave now, because most of you grow bored, or have grown up, and are leaving, or have
left. I, well, am no longer needed. For those that are still around are dependent/more than skilled enough to live without me. You all brought
me such joy during my time here. I wish you good luck my lovelies, in wherever you may end up. If you leave, or if you stay I wish you nothing
but the best. You know how I am, do whatever you feel is right, and go wherever you feel is home.
Khore, you know rock. Cordir, we had alot of fun, and alot of pain, but in the end, I wish you nothing but the best. Tynian good luck with 4.x.
To everyone else...Hunt well.
Katrana K'Veeran
Wife of Solaron
Incarna of the Wyld
Lesser Goddess of the Wyld Hunt
Triat Master
*Remembers when rift wasn't capped, and shamans had no info! To those who knew me as a mortal! *shaman info says!** *hop*
OOC:
TFC has been a large part of my life for over 10 years. With over 5000 hours spent online (with Katrana alone), I believe my time is done.
I met the love of my life here, and several very good friends. Kat's reasoning for retirement is one reason as to my leaving. I've often said
I would never leave TFC until it leaves me. It left me awhile ago, those who grew up when I did know what I speak of, as it no longer feels
the same as it did.
For me, ways are growing too redundant, but I believe that to be partly due to me finding chaos elsewhere. (I used to play from work, and well...
I now find myself in more meetings and with more responsiblity.) There is also a baby on the way. Yes, a little Solaron (a boy, and he won't
be actually named Solaron:P) will be running around in July. So my time here will be very limited soon anyway. I've enjoyed my stay here, very
much so and I don't wish that I spent that time anywhere else.
Katrana made many great friends, and even more enemies during her time; She of course wishes nothing but the best to her friends, and many, many
Rebirths to her enemies. However, I, the player, wish you all nothing but the best.
To those who want to keep in touch with me, you know how. For those who don't, you can e-mail me at xxxxxxx@gmail.com. If you are looking for
me on AIM or MSN I rarely log on anymore.
Rock on TFC, and have fun.
Jenny signing out.
Trivia:
- Completed a Shaman Class Mastery Quest
- Completed a Trial of Triat Mastery: Katrana's Triat Mastery Details!
- Katrana had two hunting hounds do have names: Manatheren and Ashendarei
- Katrana's hound Ashendarei Thread...merged with Sagan, causing him to be Hound of the Hunt.
- Katrana is referenced in the bloody-crimson thread in Cordir's temple and office. (Threads of the Tapestry)
- Cordir predicted Katrana's Wyld nature <LOG>
- Katrana is the current Incarna of the Wyld, one of the aspects of the Triat.
- Katrana often refers to Solaron's and her RL children as her "Wyldlings".
- When Katrana speaks of "The Tempest" online, she is referring to her RL daughter, Temperance.
- Katrana's hate of garden gnomes caused an outbreak. Katrana considers garden gnomes to be lesser than real gnomes. Her past as the gnomish princess of Gla'Shorn causes her to think very highly of gnomes. Some of the antics of this: A garden gnome says (in elven), 'you don't follow my goddess! stabby stabby!', A garden gnome is here staring at you with its unblinking eyes. It almost looks like a Wyldess., a gnome's little stabbing knife, A garden gnome says (in elven), 'You follow her too! I love our gnome leader!'. (6/21/2011)
- Katrana during her absence lost part of her Wyld essence. It was stolen from her. Her Hunt retrieved her essence (through two quests), but when it returned to her, she was suddenly a child.
- Vale showed Katrana a faerie that he had, she since adopted it. She named it Chime, and it lives in her cauldron.
- After Ipshaw's untimely death, Chime was promoted to being Katrana's Assistant!
- The elder Katrana growing tired of being trapped within the younger returns in Return of the Wyldess.
Immortal Entry and Exit:
Entry: Katrana skips Wyldly into the room, nearly cutting you with a pair of open bloody-shears.
Exit: Katrana giggles shrilly as she hears the horn of the Hunt, and vanishes.
Entry: Katrana steps through an inky black portal with Manatheren close behind.
Exit: Katrana walks away slowly before being enveloped by an inky blackness.
Player Provided Information:
| Doc 01/09/2013 |
I love Kat. She's awesome. |
Geasa:
Katrana when within the Chosen of Fate held four Geasa. They are as follows:
- I will learn of hometowns and new areas, for that is what took me to Thistlerock.
- I will try to rid myself of a horrible nickname, through kindness, aiding those who I can.
- I will never kill one who is enslaved, for I was once one
- I will quest and find my true self, who I really am
Restrings:
Wedding Ring:
<worn on finger> (Moderate magic) (Aflame) the Huntsman's blood-oath
The curling tip of a long slashing cut on the palm stains Katrana's skin.
Full Set for Unretirement (2011):
When Katrana was restored as a Demigoddess FLI, Cordir designed her a full set of restrings in full, glorious Triat fashion...
<worn on finger> (Moderate magic) a golden seal ring bearing the Sigil Odegra <worn on finger> (Moderate magic) a golden seal ring bearing the Name of Azat <worn around neck> (Moderate magic) a light torque of gold and blood-red rubies <worn around neck> (Moderate magic) a delicate gold chain bearing a crimson gem <worn on body> (Moderate magic) a black silken dress embroidered in scarlet <worn on head> (Potent magic) a thorny crown of ivory bones and ebon briars <worn on legs> (Moderate magic) a living, growing tattoo of roses and vines <worn on feet> (Moderate magic) (Bloody) leather sandals laced to the knees <worn on hands> (Moderate magic) a living, growing tattoo of vines and roses <worn on arms> (Potent magic) (Growing) tangled briars with dripping thorns <worn as shield> (Moderate magic) (Howling) the Hound of the Hunt, Manatheren <worn about body> (Moderate magic) a cloak of scarlet, embroidered in midnight <worn about waist> (Moderate magic) (Severed) a belt crafted of colored Threads <worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) a delicate gold cuff bracelet set with ruby <worn around wrist> (Moderate magic) a delicate gold cuff bracelet set with ruby <wielded> (Powerful magic) (Blooded) razor-sharp golden cutting shears <wielded off-hand> (Moderate magic) a gnarled walking staff of black briar wood <worn with pride> (Moderate magic) a gold brooch of a snarling hound's profile <worn with pride> (Red Aura) a brooch of a hollow-eyed mask bearing stag horns
Personal Timeline:
January 22, 2000 - Katrana weds her beloved Rashiel. The ceremony is officiated by Molo.
January 3, 2001 - Katrana, Grand Shamaness of the Black Conclave, reaches Wa:22 Sh:30, and completes MM#13
August 25, 2001 - Katrana Apostatizes from the Black Conclave.
[ 16] Katrana: well rumors about me Mon Aug 27 10:24:22 2001 To: all Okay guys, this is just a note to everyone, I am no longer a member of the Black Conclave. I had just a board note posted, but was told by a memeber, that he had it removed, so I was to post one here. So I am. I just want to satisfy all rumors I have left the Black Conclave of Nashite. My reasons, well, let's just say things change. If you want to know exactly why, ask me directly. I do not want to cause a spam in notes, so please just ask me, this includes members of the Black Conclave who did not get to see the note I wrote. Please talk to me. However, it is up to you if you choose to do so. Thank you for your attention everyone, Katrana, Grand Shamaness of umm... well... (we will just leave it at Grand Shamaness:)
August 27, 2001 - Katrana joins the Chosen of Fate.
September 17, 2001 - Katrana reaches Sh:26\Wa:23.
September 19, 2001 -Katrana completes MM#26 - a polar bear, #27 - a guard, #28 - a rainbow warrior, and #29 - a fireworm.
September 25, 2001 - Katrana is named Shamaness Adept in a special ceremony.
April 23, 2002 - Katrana of Fate regains level 29.
May 29, 2002 - Katrana gets on the Chosen Fjust by Haunting herself.
June 07, 2002 - Katrana of Fate reaches Shaman level 30 for the THIRD time, then levels to Wa:24 Sh:30.
June 16, 2002 - Katrana of Fate levels to Wa:25\Sh:30.
July 2, 2002 - Katrana and Solaron host a special Fateful Hour. (log)
July 06, 2002 - Katrana ascends to level Wa:28\Sh:30.
July 12, 2002 - Cordir runs a 25 question trivia contest. Participants include Solaron, Nazinthas, Aslan, Wylin, Elaina, Katrana, Pol, Abe, Natilena and Quarnel. Solaron wins with Katrana in second place. First prize is a custom potion, second prize is 500 exp.
July 13, 2002 - Katrana reaches effective level 40. (Log)
June 30, 2002 - Katrana: Bladed Wyldess of Azat Sol/Fate/AP, levels to Wa:27 Sh:30. Katrana kills an orog guard for MM#36, and a stone golem for #37.
August 29, 2002 - Katrana finishes the last three MMs she needs... #48 - Gorlok the Master Slaver, #49 - the instructor )got it with one tick left), and #50 - Lodriss the Myrmidon.
August 30, 2002 - Solaron & Katrana are wed. (Log)
September 03, 2002 - Katrana "declares it be nice to newbie day."
September 08, 2002 - Thargor dies in the Vortex and Katrana of Fate performs the CR.
September 15, 2002 - Katrana is promoted to Ambassador! (Log)
October 31, 2002 - Katrana turned 1000 years old today!
December 7, 2002 - Katrana is promoted to attendant of the WarDancers.
December 30, 2002 - Katrana reaches 303 hours as an Immortal.
January 11, 2003 - Katrana is promomoted to DemiGoddess. Her first follower is Solaron, her second is Mordith. Riverwind also joins the Hunt.
January 18, 2003 - Katrana reports,'TIMELINE NEWS! I did my first immortal rift, hehe'. (Mordith is the lucky recipient) Her temple is also installed.
January 28, 2003 - Solaron is Ordained by Katrana.
February 15, 2003 - Katrana reaches Intermediate Power.
March 9, 2005 - Katrana announces her retirement.
April 12, 2011 - Katrana comes out of retirement...the Hunt returns. Her first worshipper is Ink.
November 19, 2011 - Katrana is promoted to Lesser Goddess.
June 20, 2011 - Story Time for Wyldess & What To Do About Katrana...