Post by verycoldbeer on Feb 8, 2011 10:07:20 GMT -5
Biographical stuff
Name: Isabelle
Height: 5' 3"
Hair: Raven Black
Nationality: Calimite/ Cali.shi.te (Calimshan)
Race: Human
Eyes: Brown
Smile: Playful
Cali.shi.te - These humans, descended from the slaves of Calimshan's ancient genie lords, form the primary racial stock of the Border Kingdoms, the Lake of Steam cities, the Nelanther Isles, and Calimshan. Shorter and slighter in build than most humans, Cali.shi.tes have dusky brown skin, hair, and eyes. They regard themselves as the rightful rulers of all lands south and west of the Sea of Fallen Stars, and they look upon northern cultures as short-lived barbarian kingdoms barely worthy of notice. Most Cali.shi.tes seek nothing more than a lifestyle of comfort and the respect of their peers.
As with the rest of Faerun, this is a heavily human country. The history of the Cali.shi.tes has led them to have deeply rooted ties to the Genies and Efreeties that long since have left the lands. The blood of these beings is said to still be with its peoples lending for exceptional skill in the arcane arts of fire.
Cali.shi.te is the name given to an inhabitant of Calimshan. The term "Calimite" is a severe insult.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dark almost jet black tendrils of hair fell in her face while brown almond eyes scanned the room, her feet always shuffling, her fingers always fidgeting. Isabelle was by no means tall her stature barely larger then a tall elf but her spirit seemed to shine far brighter than her five foot three inch frame would allow. Her curiosity outweighed her good sense, if she ever had any, as she walked into a cave that, at the very least, most would have cautiously delved into, she bounded in; almost with a skip in her step and a gleam in her dark eyes, which spoke of fire. She found herself held captive in a room far from the surface and completely alone.
Her inner flame, as some might state, seemed to burn brighter than most, some have even commented that flames seem to lick the backs of her eyes, as if such a thing was possible. There was a crackle around her, as if something perhaps not always good but usually interesting was about to happen. Isabelle tended to scamper or if not completely full out run wherever she needs to be; a holdover from her youth that has now become a part of her downfall.
Her fingers continued their restless assault to conjure something to remove the binds around her wrists; if not, then at the very least slip them. Her purple outfit would not be considered prim or proper but seemed to reflect some of her heritage from the desert region of Calimshan. A dark purple bodice trimmed in light grey with a patchwork matching skirt, and but of course rounded off with a purple cape, encase the slender figure as she writhed trying to get a hand free. She could only imagine how long she had been down here, after being knocked out by a rudimentary rock trap; perhaps an hour?
Isabelle heard voices that seemed to be speaking in some guttural language, that she could only guess might be goblin, until a small green wretched smelling little humanoid made his appearance. One was wearing what some might consider a hat, but a piece of badly dried out sewn together leather does not a hat make. The other had some sort of amulet around his neck, and it appeared as if they were fighting about what to do with her, they squawked and pointed, paying her little attention. She wondered how these things always happen to her; neglecting the fact that it was usually herself that gets her into these situations. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Isabel was fire, and those that play with fire tend to get burned.
It was many months ago now, Izzy was playing with her fire mephit whom she named Mine, when she was rather small, but currently refers to as Sparky. They were in their room at an Inn, not in the very best district of Waterdeep, but the streets were clean and it was easy enough to be a fire eater and earn enough coin for rent. She had traveled here by originally stowing away on a caravan leaving Calimport, they were a bit surprised, to find a dark skinned small girl, in one of their large wooden boxes filled with costumes. The caravan was comprised of minstrels, traders and gypsies was the best denotation for them, who transverse the realm in brightly colored wagons and such. But all this really meant little until, later that night asleep in her bed dreaming Isabel heard a voice, dark and bright, mysterious and low resounding in her head. She shifted back and forth fitful and restless and it was in this night that Sparky also known as Mine, saw his mistress a child of only 19 glow, her brown skin seemed to be pulsing with brilliance. Mine stepped closer and he felt the heat radiating off her, before Sparky could awaken his beloved if sometimes impetuous mistress the room burst into flames, but she was not burning, well neither was he, but after all he was a fire mephit. He picked her up and flew out the second story window; it was in all reality more of a glide then actual flight with her one hundred and ten lbs. cradled in his arms.
Others had begun to evacuate the Inn and one such fool, Melvin, whom Sparky had never really cared for; his eyes always seemed to stay far too long on his Mistress’ figure, cried out “It was him, who started the fire”, with one finger pointing directly at Mine. At Melvin’s screeching Izzy woke up looked to Mine then to the burning building and scrambled to her feet. She grabbed a hold of Sparky before he could utter one syllable and before a fully formed mob could be assembled and fled Waterdeep that night with nothing but the smoldering clothing on her back.
So, tied up and watching the two goblins bicker, she closed her eyes and called for “Mine”. Perhaps it is not a true summoning spell, she has no hands to make the true motions but if he can hear her, she knows that he will appear. Eyes shut tight, all her mind focused on his little winged form “MINE”. When her eyes flutter open, it was still just her in a cell looking, at two very ugly goblins from behind her cell bars. Then she heard a flap and without turning she knew who was behind her. Mine easily untied his mistress and then without even being directed opened his mouth and breathed a small fire ball at the goblin with a crappy leather hat, incinerating him on the spot. The goblin, with the amulet, stood looking at where his friend used to have been dumb founded, as Izzy performed a simple knock spell to unlock her cell door, cracking him in the head as she ran out, knocking him to the floor, and presumably out.
Not knowing how she got to this particular room, she was unsure exactly how to get out of the caverns, but this time she remembered to look for traps.
