Cirth the Pale

Cirth
The Pale
Created	Prior to 1997
Status	Inactive
Race	Half-Elf
Classes	Mage/Thief
Followed	Ginny Khore Cordir
Partner	Corri

Current Description:

Description while in the Chosen of Fate: A soft noise catches your ear- quill rasping upon parchment. Its source is a silent, still figure, pale and slender as moonlight amidst the trees. The fellow appears young, his elegant form lithe and strong, but then his eyes lift from the illuminated poem he is working on and meet yours, and you are lost in the millennia that echo within their weary gray depths.
He sketches a polite bow, breaking contact with your gaze. Garbed in careworn, faded robes that echo the fashions of days long past, he cuts an intriguing figure. His dark hair is short, roughly cut, with the hue of starlight upon midnight waters, and appears to have been ruffled at one point in the past and never made tidy again. Odd, jagged scars bracelet each hand, revealed by the threadbare fabric of his sleeves, and a glowing tattoo of a spider-web embraces, incorporates, and acknowledges the mark around his left wrist, including it within its shifting pattern.
The pale scribe tucks the scroll away from prying eyes, and waits for you to speak.
Cirth is in perfect health.

Description while in the Kindred:

Pale, almost deadly white, from dwelling in darkness too long.

The first thing that strikes you is the stark contrast of his skin against his otherwise dark figure. The short, roughly cut, jet black hair looks as if it was ruffled sometime long ago and he hasn't bothered to untangle it. A red scar travels around each of his wrists. Heavy robes streaked with road dust cover his thin body; once black, they have faded towards grey.

At first impression you estimated him to be rather young, but now you're not so sure. Maybe it's just the old-fashioned design of his clothes and their worn appearance. There is a spark of something new in his once so weary grey eyes.
Cirth is in perfect health.
Cirth is using:
<used as light> (Magical) (Glowing) the light of a lost soul
<worn on body>a black robe
<worn about body> a dark cape
<worn with pride> the mark of the vampire

Character History:

The Tale of Cirth the Pale: Three Turns of Night
This tale has not been told in a long, long time. It is thin and old, barely more than a thread of spiderweb stretching through the vast darkness of the eternal night. The spinner? Not I, of that I am convinced, now.
But dawn is drawing near and I have much to tell. So where to begin?

I would say that it all began when I suddenly stood in front of the young Mistress of Darkness, Ginny. I did not know whether to run or not. Dusk had just turned into night and the forest silently surrounded me. Frozen by indecision, I watched her as she slowly smirked and then opened her mouth to lecture me.

That's not the entire truth to it, of course. Before that night in the woods, there was a boy-child in the Half-Elf Camp. But that was a dull time and there is little to tell. There were petty fights and quarrels, small minds and even smaller hearts. More than anything, I remember the boy-child's craving wish for something else.

Ginny had only just ascended to immortality when she found me. She was eager to teach me about the world and I hungered for knowledge. Later, when she formed the University of True Evil, I followed her and found myself accompanied by many others just like me. They, too, yearned to explore the world and learn all its secrets. Amongst the Mistress of Darkness pupils, there was a young and cunning magician by the name of Molo. He quickly rose in power and before long he was recognized not only for his skills in deception, but also for his knowledge and keen advice. Apart from guiding me in the art of magic, he saw to it that I made the right acquaintances with individuals from other powerful forces of that time, such as the Order of the Ebon Hand.

Times were good for a while, and I prospered, but then Ginny let it be known that she no longer could be present in this realm. The University of True Evil was disbanded and soon its former students, my friends, joined other faiths or vanished. Not finding comfort in other beliefs, I wandered alone.

I drifted aimlessly across the realm for a long time, like a torn piece of cloth suspended in mid-air while others passed right through me without seeing. This is how I imagine ghosts existing.

After many cycles, I began to hear rumors, whispers in the wind, that there were a group of nightly creatures who worshipped the darkness. Soon my path led me to one of them, DarkClaw. She explained about the Kindred, as they called themselves, and their kind: the vampires. I studied her and her Kindred, asked them of all sorts of things, of their nature and their way to perceive the world. Our paths crossed more and more often and soon I knew them by names and sometimes by heart: Sapphyre, Yvon, Combee, Nicholai, Athera and the ever-mischievous Palmer. Eventually I asked to be introduced to their leader, the vampire-god Khore.

As I stood before him in his cave, I recognized in him the greatness of his Kindred, for he was their Guardian and the Keeper of their Darkness. I asked if he would give me their gift so that I, too, could serve their cause. He embraced me. The night was mine again and I attained the title of Scribe of the Kindred.

It feels appropriate that I should mention Corri at this point. With my new Kindred I came to know many people, but no one as puzzling and bewildering as this playful half-dryad. She was a carefree, even reckless little creature with infinite energy for tricks and fun. She had made an unlikely friendship with the vampires of the Kindred and they adored her, which most living things end up doing. Not easily charmed, I tried to keep my distance with a polite and civilized manner, but to no avail. One day I caught myself chuckling at her making a big scene with her aggressive hat and the next thing I knew, I kept ending up in as much trouble as she could get me in to.

I enjoyed these breakneck adventures and to this day I have never met anyone as radiating of positive energy as she. It is a sorrowful thing that Corri has wandered out of this realm, because I think she took my heart with her.

Things come and pass and I am young no longer, although my appearance is deceiving. The Kindred, too, were disbanded as Khore ascended to higher powers. Once again my friends scattered and many vanished. By this time, a dear friend of mine, the Ebon Bard and Triat Witch, Cordir, had reached immortality after a long and perilous struggle. She possesses great wisdom and I have had many lengthy discussions with her through the years, not seldom talking about her faith - the Triat.

I first came understand a glimpse of what Thaygar had preached so many cycles ago when I stepped into the Caves of N'kai. Cordir later guided me to the ancient murals that told the story of the sealed depths below the Citadel. I began to see the signs of the Three all around me. Birth and death, creation and destruction in constant cycle, and the threads of fate touching all things.

Recently I met Cordir in the Caves of N'Kai and once again we wandered through the muraled passages, and down to the sealed caves where I inquired as to whether I could be her scribe. Now I keep record the other servants' commitments. Personally, I have given up all my belongings but those I wear, and bestow advice and knowledge upon those of the young ones that seek such. I watch the world as always as I wander through the realm. Only this time, I sense a purpose to all things and recognize the twist and turns of Fate that leads my steps.
What happened in the end? Nothing ever truly ends.