Katrana

Katrana K'Veeran Al-Veeran (I)
Wyld Huntress
DemiGoddess
Created	Believed to be 2x
Status	Retired
Race	Gnome
Hometown	Gla-Shorn's Realm
Classes	Shaman
Followed	Lorna>BR />Molo Cordir
Spouse	Rashiel Solaron K'Veeran-Al'Veeran
Partner	Gann Abender Stormreaver
Areas Written	Northern Stronghold

Katrana, Wyldess

Mud Contributions:

Katrana and her husband, Solaron, co-wrote the area, the Northern Stronghold.

Current Description:

Gno [ Sh:29. .. .. .. . ] Katrana: dreamer of devils and an angel *GaNn*  (January, 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 [     Ambassador    ] Katrana walking with her Hounds through Lleheibwen*S*  (November 1, 2002)
Gno [    Wa:30 Sh:30    ] Katrana: Pinking Bladed Huntress of Fate *Solaron* (September 9, 2002)

Mortal - July 2001:
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:
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."

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?

Trivia:

• Completed a Shaman Class Mastery Quest
• Completed a Trial of Triat Mastery

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.
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.