Samozura Songblade, a personality divided

[Sioladuil]

Samozura Songblade

Samozura Songblade styands at 6'5" and she looks to weight approximately 266lbs.

When performing she can be seen wearing clothing that is generally more revealing. Imagine the traditional attire of Raqs Shaabi. The style of this outfit reveals her tribal tatoos. She has a paw print at the top of each breast, a circulat swirl on each shoulder (top of the bicep) and a spiked crown around each thigh.

When adventuring she can be seen in full plate with a shield on her back and a longsword sheathed at her belt. The armor is covered with a tabard which is blue and green of colour trimmed in black. The shield has the heraldry of Valkur's Roar painted upon it.

When not entertaining or adventuring, she favours simple clothing that is usually dark of color.

Her equipment looks to be basic, nothing overly special, other than the fact it is meticulously cared for.

The only unusual thing about her adventuring gear is her longsword. It has the word 'Hapohn' etched down the centre.

She wears a holy symbol of Lliira openly around her neck.

[Sioladuil]

Samozura had found herself awake again, sleep had continued to evade her. She was sat within a small library, her usually disciplined posture had relaxed and she was partially slouched in the largest chair she could find. She had spent the last few evenings working through piles of paperwork, trying to distract herself from the one thing she could not be evasive with - her own thoughts. She let out a small sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose. She allowed her eyes to close a moment, inhaling deeply through her nose before exhaling through her mouth. She looked around the room a moment, checking the condition of the lit candles. Once satisfied, she turned her eyes to the desk infront of her and opened her journal.

    It has been many months since I found the time and inclination to put quill to journal. My thoughts continue to rage against my mind, assaulting me at every possible oppertunity. The smiles seem harder to push, the anger seems heavier in my breast and I feel like it is finally time to catalogue and assess how I am currently feeling before I self destruct, like so many of my kin. The Arabellan troubles have really reinforced previous thoughts and feelings that I hold.

    Upon my arrival to Cormyr, all started well. I quickly found a place for myself within the adventuring community, as secure a place as any other, though I still stand out. I doubt I will ever find a place I truly fit in. But I forced the smiles, and drew Hapohn in the name of defending the village for the good of the people. Coin came, my reputation grew and I began to lose sight of the one rule that has kept me alive, safe and mostly free from the hatred. "Pass through, leave no trace". I had temporarily taken leave of my senses, enjoying the positive attention I was receiving a little too much.

    I joined a group of volunteers known as the Greatgaunt Volunteers. They are... a group of adventurers who volunteer themselves to aid the village in times of need. I felt this would be a good way to observe, listen and see the up and coming whos who of Cormyr. On our first outing, I caught the attention of some old friends, which has found me with a place to hide from fearun. A small relief. But I caught more than their attention, I caught the eye of others. It was suggested I should join the "Valkur's Roar Reserves" and somebody vouched for me to Captain Runa Rothgar with whom I later interviewed. We seemed to hit it off, she had been to the Font where I was educated and we shared memories.

    Shortly taking the oath to the Lord-Baron Azorous Crownsilver, serving under his son Castellan Aluxar Crownsilver, I noticed there where advertising for candidates for the position of Herald upon his council. With my training, upbringing and areas of skill I thought I would be able to at least providing a challenging interview for some of the other candidates. As part of this process, I was tasked with arranging a funeral for those that fell during the night of dread. Part of the fallen was someone whom I knew really briefly, but felt a connection - Lady Sophie Miller, Mistress of the Vineyards.

    Monuments where erected within the city, on my recomendation. My bardic works are now carved within the stones of Valkur's Roar, honoring the fallen. A grand thing, for which I am happy. But... leave no trace. I had to read the eulogy of Mistress Sophie Miller at the funeral. And she... I still chuckle at how tragic the eulogy reading was... she used my voice to insult, rib and make fun of the Lord-Baron, his council and family. This was her way, I think they all knew that. But those who did not know who I was, had now been made fun of by me. Leave no trace?

    I have now left a trace of my presence, which goes against everything I was ever taught. And for this reason I withdrew my herald candidacy. Which is a good thing, because on the small chance I would have been the successful candidate, my heritage will not stain the council of Valkur's Roar. I do not believe the Lord-Baron cares... maybe that is a strong word... I do not think he worries about the blood of those who serve him. He seems to be a man focussed on action, loyalty and integrity over how somebody looks. But one of his council, a Huntsilver, definitely noticed my heritage and I do not think it sat easy with him. If one of his own was unhappy with it, how would the wider nobility feel? I was sure this was the right decision. Back to being the unknown, anonymous person I was raised to be. Though regret does sit heavy... due to recent events... I feel like he could have used the support and assistance I could have offered. But at what cost to his own reputation?

    I have grown to be an inconvenience to him, I feel, but I will stay the course. He is a fine man, making difficult decisions to restore the balance and I will assist where I can. I just hope I do not continue to test his patience.

[Sioladuil]

Samozura had found herself awake again, sleep had continued to evade her. She was sat within a small library, her usually disciplined posture had relaxed and she was partially slouched in the largest chair she could find. Two canine like animals where laid at either side of the desk that took up most of the libraries floor. They where snoring gently while one of their rear legs kicked out rapidly. She raised an eyebrow with a small smile and shook her head. She let out a small sigh, massaging the bridge of her nose before looking at a scented candle that burnt near by. There was many hours of burn left. She turned her eyes to the desk infront of her and opened her journal.

    Sleep evades me again, I had hoped by this point in my career where I have an established place to sleep that the historic problems with insomnia would pass. But a life time of sleeping light, moving from place to place each night is taking a lot longer to heal than I thought. I hope it does pass soon, it is getting harder to function as time goes on. When I am in my bases around Suzail, it is fine. I am amongst friends and I feel safe... I sleep like the dead. But when I am operating in the Western Reaches? I can go days without sleep, despite having a secure camp. I am not sure why but I do not yet feel comfortable enough to sleep in the barracks. It is likely because of the high foot fall that moves through. Historically, high foot fall in places I sleep means imminent danger. I know that is not the case here, but... hopefully it will pass soon.

    I find myself in a strange situation. I have not contributed much publically, other than leading the funeral for Mistress Sophie Miller, I have not really done much that has drawn attention. I remain a private int he reserve guard, I have passed the point I am able to volunteer for the Greatgaunt militia so I do not do much with them. Despite this, I seem to have aquired some reputation. People know who I am, they seem to think that I am more than I am. I am not sure how this came to pass, but it is mildly alarming for someone who prides themself on being unknown. I will be honest with myself, I struggle with this. I can almost hear Inquisitor Steel tutting, and correcting me as I write this. She is wise beyond her years, I just wish she wasn't. Perhaps I need to step away from trying to hide and be the person I am more publically?