Reina Damarra - Priestess of Umberlee

[irene]

Reina Damarra was born in Baldur's Gate, the great port in the Western Heartlands, some two decades ago. Her mother, a priestess in the temple of Umberlee, the Water Queens Temple, has never shared with Renia the name of her father.

Her mother has always wanted her to follow in her footsteps as priestess of Umberlee and some of the Bitch Queens traits does appeal strongly to Reina, such as the power of the storm and the waves crashing against the shore, lightnings flickering over dark skies and the violence of the sea.

On the other hand, the destruction of poor fishermen's equipment, sinking of their boats and killing of their family members by the fickle and cruel goddess, the crying of sailors who lost limbs and friends even after having payed all respects possible, was less to her liking.

Also, unlike her mother, Reina was fascinated by swordplay and the clanging of steel on steel. In the rush of adrenaline in a fight with a deadly opponent, she found a joy as great as that in a thunderstorm. Being as headstrong as her mother, she payed little heed to her study, and instead spend much time improving her martial skills. Her mother was furious with what she considered childish nonsense and a waste of time.

Almost a year ago now, Reina was send away. Her mother told her that the ones who will not listen must feel, and banished her from the temple until she would prove willing to mend her ways. So she left Baldur's Gate, drifting from place to place, until just recently she arrived in Isinhold. Here she spend a few days, chasing orcs and rats, earning some coin, considering her situation, when something strange happened... Suddenly, the power of Umberlee, the Bitch Queen, made itself manifest in Reina Damarra, granting her the ability to act as priestess.

Reina is a tall, strong-looking woman, favoured by good looks. Black hair and piercing grey eyes. She carries black, gold and green as her colours. When leaving town she wears heavy armour and a longsword at her side.

[irene]

Reina Damarra sat in Umberlee's shrine is Marsember. her grey eyes staring out on the sea... ever moving, ever changing.... waves rolling in and washing against the quays in the harbor.

She sighed a bit, the waters of this bay seeming stale and powerless compared with the constant thunder of the ocean waves of the Sword-coast. And yet she could feel the presence of the Goddess here, the untamed fury, the cruelty and the beauty.

She had spend some time cleaning out the shambling little shrine, and of late, more offerings had been placed as a result... gold and gems, which she threw into the waters, to appease the Goddess... if she wished to let herself be appeased.

Her thoughts wandered to the happenings of late, the Zhentarim and the rider on the black horse in Isinhold. And that priest of Bane, Ranan. Bane... she smirked... wondering how one could follow a god that hates everything, wants to control everything, oppress everything ? Truly, only those with the smallest of souls.

She sighed, and a smile reached her face without her realizing it, as she thought of Randal. Randal, the Tormite paladin whom she loved. Who loved her. What an absurd whim of fate. She laughs, a few people nearby staring at her, and hastily looking away again. How can she love a man dedicated to law and order and Justice and stagnation and utter boredom? And yet there was chaos and fierceness in Randal. Oh yes, there was. Perhaps... she shook her head and dismissed the thought. Only time could tell... she loved him and there was nothing more to it.

She looks to the bowl, coins and a few gems in it, gifts from fishers and sailors, hoping they would be spared Umberlee's wrath. Maybe they would.. maybe not. She stared at the bowl a moment before sighing and picking it up... She walked away from the shrine, along the edge of the water, until she reaches a bluff outside the city... from here she threw the contents into the sea, coins and small gems spinning in the air... catching the light before disappearing. She looked over the sea, and then turned, to walk back to the city... when the sound of distant thunder over the sea reached her... a dark cloud was hanging out there, lightnings flickering far away. She smiled, her eyes shining as she raised her arms. Always... always, there was the fury.

[irene]

"Fool woman! How could you think that a paladin of Torm could love you? How ridiculous!"

Reina cursed herself for the hundredth time the last few days, the anger once again swelling in her. She could still see Randal's face when he declared he'd live in poverty and starve himself, in order to "help" the poor. How that would help anyone was beyond her, and it all smacked more of Ilmater than of Torm anyway. No matter what, it was pathetic and disgusting... and she was quite certain Randal would know this would be her reaction.

And yet he had the nerve to stand there, and declare he loved her still. What did he think? That she'd sleep on the ground with him? That she'd sit like a good little housewife, waiting for him to come home, happy with whatever scraps and leftovers there would be after he'd served his God and his duty?

Maybe he loved her, maybe he did. But only the part of her he could control. All the rest he cared nothing about. An the worst part was she had almost given in... almost. In the end the Goddess had been on her side. And when he had declared she did not know how to enjoy the moment and be satisfied with what she had, she'd known his foolishness and his hypocrisy, deliberate or not.

If only she could accept that she would always come after his God, and after his duty, and he would not share plans with her, or confide in her... then he would love her.

"Well, my dear Randal Evenwood, Paladin of Torm, you have another thing coming!"

[irene]

"Strange days..."

Reina sat in a tavern in Redmist, after having left Isinhold, now taken over by hordes of undead... who still allowed the living among them. Kale clinging on to his inn, desperately hoping for some kind of business, as rattling skeletons and disfigured zombies milled around, the stench of the rotting corpses everywhere, and villagers lying dead and maimed on the streets outside... And in the middle of it all a Zhentarim sitting as if it was all the most natural thing of the world.

Reina grimaced, the smell still in her nostrils, even after having traveled all the way from Isinhold to Redmist. She drained the glass of wine, ordering a fresh, the horrific images vivid in her head still.

A few days ago all had seemed calm... almost boring. She'd been haunting the Bramblewood together with Sienna and was talking with her and Dante, planning some bloody adventure or another, when Sienna had mentioned the undead rider and the the threat he'd declared against Isinhold. They had discussed it, but not really taken it serious, which seemed foolish now.

Reina frowned slightly at the memory, Sienna was brave to the suicidal, and combined with her absolute lack of tact, she'd end up dead or worse soon enough, which would be a shame, as she could also be amusing to be in company with.

And then there was Randal, of course... she smiled wryly at the memory of their trip from Isinhold to Suzail. Profitable and amusing... a squire now, and apparently he'd found himself some companion in faith to share his bed. And yet he so obviously still desired her... his glances when he thought she was looking elsewhere was entertaining. She would have to make up her mind what to do about that at some point, though... there was no rush.

Apparently the undead in Isinhold was controlled by one or more mindflayers, maybe even undead mindflayers. She'd had to find out more about these creatures. This "Silent Dominion" smacked to much with replacing one kind of order with another, even less interesting and definitely more unpleasant than what Cormyr and the purples wished for. And she never did like undead.

She'd have to travel to Marsember and pray to the Goddess... maybe then she would have a clue whether to get involved and how... if nothing else, there may be a battle... the ultimate in glorious chaos and destruction!

[irene]

The dream was vivid in her head still as she awoke in her room in Marsember...

She had walked on the beach, shells and sand crunching under her feet, long rolling waves from the ocean rolling against the shore, the thunder of them filling her ears, together with the cries of the seagulls riding the wind. She had always loved seagulls. She could watch them fly for hours and hours. The powerful stroke of their wings, their harsh calls, their cruelty and wickedness, and their elegance and clean-cut beauty. They were all she loved about the sea.

She looked down, noticing the silence that had fallen. It had been creeping upon her, without her noticing. The waves still rolled in, but slow and sluggish now, like covered in oil. Fish was floating out there, their white bellies like dots on the dark, dead water. She looked up again, as the silence engulfed her, the sky a uniform leaden grey. She stopped, staring... the seagulls still floating in the air above her head, but now as rotting carcasses, with empty eye-sockets, and a few, grey feathers on their wings, a mockery of what they had been in life.

She stared at the beach, bones and decomposing bodies of animals lying everywhere, lifeless, silent, unchanging, dead....

A dark lump on the beach ahead attracted her gaze, and she squinted to make it out. Slowly she started moving again, toward it, warily and watchful. It seemed the corpse of a man, a drowned sailor, most likely. Maybe the fool that had tried to appease the goddess with a few bottles of ale. The stench filled her nostrils as she approached the horrid thing, until it was but a few steps away.

Suddenly it rolled over, grinning a death-grin at her, jawbone dangling loose, eyeballs washed out white lumps staring blindly at her. It rose to it's feet, a rusty cutlass pointing at her as it advanced toward her. She stopped, startled, then returned the dead things grin with a cold smile of her own, as she summoned Umberlee's power and threw it at the undead:

"Return to the sea, fool servant, or your punishment shall be ten times what it be now..."

The thing approached another step, leering at her, it's voice a hoarse, wet whisper:

"Your words are without power, priestess of Umberlee. Your feeble goddess holds no sway over me. This is the Silent Dominion... "

... and everywhere was quiet, dead and still. And no-one sacrificed to the Queen of the Sea anymore.

Her heart was racing as she sat in the bed, staring into the wall. Slowly she regained control over her breath. She threw aside the covers, and went to the window of the inn, staring out at the busy port and the rolling sea, the cry of a gull audible from above... a sigh escaped her and she nodded. The path was clear now, and her doubt gone. She would side with the living!

[irene]

"..fight fire with fire...?"

Reina Damarra spoke to herself, as she often did while walking on the beaches around Marsember, thinking, contemplating or just emptying her mind in the presence of the Goddess.

The smells and sounds of the sea filled her, and her eyes took in the myriad of details around her, that had changed since last she walked here. It was never the same, always, from minute to minute, something was different.

She thought of a discussion she had had with Celith and Aren in Suzail, and a wry smile curved her lips. Maybe she should ask Darkharp what his books and songs had to say on the subject of Chaos.

Her mind returned to the night outside the Wailing Wheel some nights ago. The vampire, bold as brash, had stood in their middle, for hours, listening, before he had revealed his identity. Or rather, the paladin, Gero Boldblade, had seen him for what he was. They had surrounded him, and drawn blades in panic, and the paladin had attacked the vampire.

She shook her head in wonder. He had not been as much as scratched, simply avoiding the scything blade. She had sheathed her own blade, quickly realizing this was not to be solved with swords.

Eventually even a paladin could see that, an the vampire then calmly stated his offer... to join Cormyr's side in the struggle against the Dominion, as she could make it out. Odd that, but as Darkharp pointed out, the vampires need living prey, not dead nor undead. Whatever the case, the predictable and bull-headed manner of the paladin had ended the discussion quickly enough. Randal would have been proud. Paladins... she grimaced in disgust.

Randal... she'd not seen him since the night they were attacked by the mad druid and his entourage. He was supposed to talk with the malar-priest, but since nothing was forthcoming, possible she had to do it herself. With the ensuing war, the last thing needed was the public turning against the furies.

She nodded at her own thoughts. She would have to do that. As to the vampires, time alone could tell if another opportunity would rise to find out what they offered... if indeed anything.

She looked out on the sea, the long rolling waves, driftwood floating near the edge of the water, the remains of a ship who's crew or captain foolishly had offended the Queen of the Sea... or maybe just a rotten hulk that had broken apart. A huge silver-gull was picking at the driftwood, sitting on it, and suddenly it's beady black eye met Reina's. Gazes locked, Reina pulled out a small green emerald, sending it spinning through the air.

The gull took off, and caught the emerald deftly, circling and gaining height on powerful wings. Reina laughed, and craned her neck to watch it... :

"Bring that to our mistress, my beauty. Be swift, and may you find something fresher than old wood to bury your beak in!"

[irene]

Reina Damarra woke with a gasp in her room at the Cloven Shield in Marsember... almost choking on the scream that tried to escape her throat. Shaking all over, covered in sweat, her senses convinces her that all is safe...

She slowly sits up, burying her face in her hand, breathing deeply, before standing up, and looking out the window, toward the three lantern-poles of Umberlee's shrine.

She feels her body, the joints working smoothly, only a dull pain remaining, as much in her mind as anywhere else... but she only have to close her eyes to again feel the rough wood of the rack against her back, a the sickening sounds of the cranking of the wheel, and the indescribable pain as her body being pulled apart, joints snapping, ligament being torn and tendons pulled from the bone.

She can smell the brimstone and sulfur of the beast's breath, as it snaps at her face, the cold of the irons, and the soft, seductive voice of someone... something... else. And she can hear the voice of that little bitch, Dawn...

Her knuckles whitens as she clenches her hands into two fists, trembling with fury, anger and humiliation. They would pay... all of them! Edward and that Red wizard. It was their work, she was certain of it. But most of all she would make Dawn scream for the mercy of death before it would be granted her.

Hatred made her tremble as she stood in the cold air, white-hot burning hatred. And only the suffering of those who'd caused this humiliation could extinguish it. She was the servant of Umberlee, and if all of Redmist had to leveled with the ground for her to have her revenge, then so be it!

She looked over the dark and quiet city once more, fog rising from the water, adding a ghostly quality to the light... She would have to pray for strength. She would need more strength than ever before to have her vengeance. And she'd have to decide how best to achieve her goal... So far Cormyr and the Evergreens seem to have no plans... no clues... no idea how to oppose the forces facing them. Her torturers had known more of the Evergreens than she herself, supposedly a member. Something would have to be done, or she would have to seek other allies to aid her in this.

[irene]

I've lost my way...

Reina Damarra sat at the beach outside Marsember, looking over the sea. The smell of seaweed and saltwater and wet sand filled her nostrils. Grey clouds was rolling across the sky above her head, as long waves was crashing against the shore. She closed her eyes, and listened to the cry of a lone sea-gull.

How did that happen... ?

The question entered her mind as she allowed her thoughts to drift, thinking of the events of the last ten-days. Ever since her being captured and tortured by Edward and Akkarin, hatred and fury had driven her. She'd been obsessed with vengeance. She knew it would be better to let go... to leave it behind.

But it was hard... so hard, when thinking of Edward's provoking smile, and Akkarin's half unpleasant and half childish remarks about which method to employ in torture or slavery. Somehow they'd captured her again. It was odd... She had met Edward in Isinhold, and tried to ignore him, yet it had still ended in a pointless exchange of insults. Apparently he blamed her that he was wanted in Cormyr.


Indeed, Lady Sharita had convinced her that she should file charges. She'd delivered a detailed description of the events surrounding her first capture. She'd never received as much as a confirmation the charges had been received. Probably Aria Blake had read them now, and Zachary Shepperd, but otherwise than that she might as well have thrown the accusations in a hole. Edward had been wanted before she wrote them, and there was no word as to Akkarin being wanted.


She'd been traveling with Dusk. After the exchange with Edward and him walking off, they had agreed heading to Suzail. She remembered they'd reached the northeastern reaches of Redmist, circling the city widely. Then, nothing, before awaking in a cell in Redmist. She wondered what had happened to Dusk.

They'd let her go. Edward and Akkarin. They'd agreed not to pursue one another anymore. Edward also claimed he no longer would harm Mouse. She would keep to the agreement as it did not seem she would get a better deal. It filled her with a bitter feel of defeat, but she was tired of the whole thing. Deadly tired. She would leave it be, if that was what it would take for her to regain her focus. Only one loose end needed to be tied up. Dusk...

She stood up, looking out at the sea again, and slowly undressed. The harsh wind was raising goosebumps on her skin. She walked into the water... the waves breaking around her and lifting her up. She dived into the sea, and started swimming with powerful strokes, further and further out. She felt herself engulfed in the water, and attempted to let it wash away her bitterness. Make it flush out the unclean feeling of the Lady of Pain. She rejoiced in the feeling of being close to the Queen of the Sea, feeling her might and power all around her...

Oh Goddess, ruler of storms and waves... I've lost my way. Help me find it again. Drown me and bring me to your realm... or let me feel your glory and live, but take away the doubts and the fears... Make me strong again, make me whole!

[irene]

The House on the Cliff...

Reina Damarra sat in the Wailing Wheel in Suzail. Zaebros was somewhere, looking for information about some obscure spell or another. She herself was sitting in front of the fire, the strange events of the last few days going through her head.

The visions and the drowned man with the tattoo, and the sailor in this very inn. Ever since she came to Cormyr, she had been wondering why Umberlee had chosen her as her servant... Now it seemed that some of the mystery was revealing itself. It would seem it had been more than mere chance that had brought her to Cormyr.

She sighed, abruptly, in annoyance with herself. For once she wished she'd payed more attention to her mother and her other teachers in the Water-queens House in Baldur's Gate. The House on the Cliff... she racked her brain, but all she remembered was a vague mentioning of this great temple, located somewhere around the Sea of the Fallen Stars, or the Dragonmere...

But it was here in Cormyr, in the cliffs above Marsember. And it had been destroyed during the time of troubles. By a storm no less. A storm so strong that the temple had been swept away, together with every single inhabitant... all gone. Vanished without a trace.

Why would something like that happen? Two possibilities she could see... and the drowned man's tattoo clearly pointed to one of them, even if the sailor she'd spoken to seemed to find it unlikely. But she knew more than he... and her visions clearly indicated that the Goddess was very, very angry, still. She would have to ask around, though. Because if indeed her suspicion was right, she'd have to step very carefully.

The first thing she would have to do, would have to be to find the place where the temple had been. Even if so very little was left, as the sailor had claimed, something might still provide a clue. Especially if she brought along sharper eyes than her own. Shame she could trust Dusk no longer. But there were others whom could help her.

She shifted a bit on the couch, staring into the fire still. The sight and the heat of the dancing flames made her smile. Zaebros worshiped Kossuth fervently. Zaebros... the best thing that had happened to her since she left Baldur's gate was him. A renegade Red Wizard, arrogant and gentle, cocky and modest, unforgiving and caring. A walking contradiction. A worshiper of Order, deeply rooted in Chaos. The man she loved. And who loved her, without demands, without conditions. Accepting whom and what she was. Her grey eyes reflected the flames as she stared into them, wondering where he was, hoping he would be back soon.

[irene]

Reina Damarra turned the ring on her finger again, reading the inscription once more: "Let those who do not fear my domain, drown in their own folly".

The mad storm-cleric had been foolish indeed. Changing his alliance from Umberlee to Talos being one thing. Causing the destruction of the House on the Cliffs something else entirely. Finally, in spite of all this, keeping an artifact of the church as his own had to be madness beyond measure.

He had been strong, though. His raiders had been fanatically loyal to the man's cause, and he himself had almost triumphed. His arrogance had added mockery to foolishness though, and the same had his followers. The reavers of the Sea-queen had appeared in all their fury, and ultimately the talosites had succumbed.

Leon, Mouse, Rigrin and Lidda. She was eternally in their dept for their help. Though the riches of the raiders would go a long way to redress that... if not wealth beyond measure, then at least wealthy indeed.

Reina grinned at that thought, her things lying all around her in heaps, halfway packed. Time to go back to the Gate. The artifact had been damaged in the hands of the talosite, and perhaps in the Water-queen's House someone would know how to repair it. She was half looking forward and half dreading the returning to Baldur's Gate. Probably, after three years in Cormyr, she'd have to face her mother again, and is spite of all that had happened, she was not certain she was ready for this, yet.

Reina sighed, the resumed her packing, until she was ready. Why worry? What happened would happen, and her life had been a turmoil these past years anyway. She'd faced worse thing that her mothers fury.

She looked to Zaebros hovering mephit, who'd accompany her on the trip, with a wry smile.

"Lets go, then, mephit, and hope your predictions are wrong. It would be bad if Zaebros utterly forgets eating and drinking while you are gone. We can contact him from time to time, to make sure he eats and drink, I suppose... or we can see it as a test of his survival skills."

And with Aria in Amn, Doust and Zae was left to their own devices... Tremble, Cormyr, tremble and pray.

With a wicked grin, Reina shouldered her belongings and set out for the trip to Baldur's Gate.

[irene]

Reina Damarra regarded the shrine to Umberlee, the Deep-green House, in Marsember, for one last time, before turning away.
Already she had packed her things in her room in the Cloven Shield. Odd. She had lived in Cormyr for the better part of four years, and yet she did not own more than she could carry in a few -albeit magical- bags.

The little shrine had been cleaned and made presentable. But unless another servant of Umberlee saw fit to arrive in Cormyr, it would have to do by itself for now. She was off... Going home to Baldur's Gate.

Conflicting emotions went through her. Her work did not seem done, and yet... there was no progress either, and had not been since she recovered Umberlee's Ire. The artifact was broken still, and she was no closer to discover how to repair it. Perhaps in The House of the Water-queen, someone, maybe even her mother, would have an idea what to do.

As she walked to the gates of the great port-city, memories paraded through her mind. Friends and lovers, past and present, enemies new and old. So much had happened and yet nothing. It had grown stale. A circle with no end. Impotent anger and casual friendships, most of them to be shrugged off at a whim. In the end her mother -had- been right. Selfishness would always prevail before loyalty. Even her best and most true friends had proved that.

Like the waves of the ocean eats away at the shorelines, no matter how sturdy and rocky, so everything eventually is eaten by time, and returning to the Chaos it sprung from. Love, hate, friendship, animosity, nothing stands the test of time. Only her love of the green, rolling waves of the sea, and the furious winds whipping rain and salt into her face remained the same. That was the lesson her time in Cormyr had taught her.

She would travel to Baldur's gate, and Zaebros would travel with her. Perhaps the wonders of the great port would drag him away from his endless studies, and rekindle his desire to take part in life. Perhaps not. Time would tell, and she'd have to decide what to choose, sooner or later. She loved him still, but eventually time would make them drift apart like everything else, she feared.

She'd have to face her mother. And is spite of the power that had grown in her over the years since their last meeting, she dreaded that meeting. She knew now, that her mother had been closer to truth than she herself. She had seen and done great things, and lived life fully, but betrayal, pain and denied vengeance had been the price. It was time to admit she'd been wrong.

Along the rocky shores of the Sword Coast, she'd search for new goals and meanings, and perhaps in time find the drive to return to Cormyr. Perhaps... like all things else... only time would tell.

The gate of the city was behind her, as she negotiated a price with a caravan headed for Isinhold. There, in that silly town, she'd meet Zaebros, say goodbye to friends and enemies, and set out on the long trip westwards... toward home.

[irene]

The tall female figure approached Isinhold slowly. The black clothes and armour shrouded her figure and features effectively, and a black hood with a veil kept her face hidden at all times. She looked around the village, responding to a few polite nods and greetings with a silent nod.

She had traveled toward here with a caravan headed for Cormyr, all the way from Waterdeep. A few of her colleague caravan guards had wondered about her, but the private nature of the woman that called herself Dana did not invite to smalltalk. She had kept to herself on the trip from the Western Heartlands, and the hoarse whisper that was her voice prevented much communication anyway.

Thoughts and memories passed through her as she stood in the center of Isinhold before entering the Regal Griffon. She looked around the familiar inn, and took a deep breath, steeling herself. She had laid her plans, and started out on this track. Only determination, and great care could see her to the end. And if she failed, she knew there'd be no coming back this time.

[irene]

Reina Damarra walked along the coast between Marsember and Suzail, close to the steep drop into the sea. The seagulls cried harshly above her head, riding the wind on their powerful curved wings, as the sound of the rolling waves breaking against the shore filled her ears. The wind tugged at her mail-coat and her cloak, her black hair flowing freely, salty water-drops whipping her face. Only paying half attention to where she walked, knowing the narrow path by heart, thoughts filled her mind, unanswered questions and unsolved problems.

She'd left Cormyr, and returned in disguise, seeking to finally settle the score with the one she hated above all else, no matter what the cost. She'd been ready to face everything, except what she found: Lorkus gone and intense boredom and longing despair, seeing the pain Zaebros suffered, believing she was dead. So she had abandoned her carefully planned disguise and returned to his arms.

Now she felt like she was split in two. She wondered if ever she'd know peace of mind and soul, confidence and certainty in following the right path, or if her whole life would be like this, ever doubting, ever questioning herself. Zaebros had such supreme confidence in what he did. He seemed to never doubt what he was doing, that he was making the right choices. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she loved him... a rock of certainty in the maelstrom that was her life. Perhaps. All she knew was that she -did- love him... The one thing where there was no doubt in her heart. When he had proposed, that night in Marsember, she had answered "yes" before she even realized what it meant. But that was as it should be. She knew she would marry him, and that she'd never deliberately cause him harm again, ever. Gods, mortals, and all beings of the Nine could not change that!

So she was going to marry a Kossuthite. A Kossuthite priest at that. Fire and water... She had to laugh at the cliché, startling the circling gulls. There would be frowning at that, amongst those on both sides, certainly. Not least her own mother... Her mother would surely and truly hate the idea.

A grimace passed over her face, and for a moment she stopped and looked out over the sea.

Oh Goddess, what am I doing? I am thine servant. I have worked to make people understand the necessity of thine being... to bring sacrifice and offer respect... thou art cruel, mistress, but I love thee as I love thine realm. But to choose between the man I love, and thine glory, that I cannot do.

She resumed her walking, shaking her head, her thoughts in disarray, as people and memories, cherished and despised appeared amongst each-other.... Aria, Lorkus, Mouse, Rigrin, Amythrul, mad Elvewyn, Sienna, Randal, Leon, Dusk and... She wondered what had happened to Dusk. Though they had made peace, she still could not look at the petite woman, without feeling the fury and anger at the part Dusk had played in the humiliation Lorkus had brought her. And still, after years, she could not look at Lorkus without feeling the hatred swelling in her, the desire to bring him as low as he had brought her, to see him on his knees, begging for mercy. Oh how she yearned for that. All her uncertainty, her doubt, and her feeling divided, stemmed from this. She was certain of it.

But now Dusk had left Lorkus, or so rumour would have it, and Lorkus had abandoned Loviatar, or she him. Why? What had happened there, she wondered? She needed more information. A grimace passed over her face again, for a moment. Then a harsh cry above her head made her look up. A huge silver-gull rode the wind but a few feet from her face, black eye watching her... she lifted her arm, and the bird landed on her wrist, steadying himself as the wind tugged at him. Reina met his gaze, her voice amused, yet serious as she spoke:

What do you say, my beauty? What shall I do? Live a peaceful life? Or follow vengeance to the Gates of the Abyss? What say you?

The bird watched her a moment longer, before spreading his huge wings, and take to the sky, with another harsh and cold cry.

[irene]

Doubt, doubt, doubt....
Always gnawing, eating away at her. She hated doubt. Uncertainty. Not knowing where to go! She wanted to be whole, to feel sure, to know where she was headed.

Standing on the high cliffs between Marsember and Suzail, she looked out on the ocean. Without thinking, she noticed the storm that must be raging in full fury out there, invisible under the horizon. The great rolling breakers, and the flotsam on the stony beach were telltale signs, that someone had not escaped the fury of Umberlee.

A sunite! An accursed sunite. A follower of the whore-goddess... How? How could one she'd considered a friend for so long, be a sunite? Mouse! She'd been certain always, without ever asking, that Mouse was a tymoran, a follower of the Lady Luck. Mouse had helped her bringing the talosite renegade down. They'd laughed, traveled, struggled, fought and bled together. And all this time she'd been a follower of the "Lady Firehair".

She sat down, the wind from the sea whipping at her, tearing at her black hair, forcing a few tears from the corners of her eyes. The air was heavy with salt and moist, the sound of the breakers crashing against the shore filling her ears. The white gulls rode the wind on sturdy curved wings. She felt the joy and love of it filling her, 'till she was almost brimming with it... But the doubt was there still.

What to do? How could she be the enemy of Mouse? But she had to. What else was there? How could she live without the sea, without reveling in the fury. Even if she wished to abandon the goddess, she'd not be likely to survive... few did. Most would be found one morning, drowned, lungs filled with saltwater, even if hundreds of miles from the sea. And she did not wish to live hundreds of miles from the sea. She did not wish to abandon the fury, to never feel the surge of power again. She did not wish it. Zaebros had said, that he'd be there, no matter what course she followed, but that the choice was hers. And it was. But how could she choose? Mouse... how could she hate Mouse?

She stood up again, feeling the winds growing in strength, as the horizon darkened. Slowly she felt her power swelling, as the storm grew, white foam so bright against the almost black water. Lightning flickering in the horizon, and far away, a cutter running at full speed, under roped sails, seeking the safety of Marsembers harbour, even as the seas tossed her around, and threatened to engulf her... Reina laughed, feeling the glory of the fury. How could she ever abandon this?

But, how could she hate Mouse?

[irene]

Reina Damarra sat in Isinhold, an amused expression on her face as she clasped a silver seashell in her hand. Lifting it to her ear, she smiled a moment, her grey eyes shone brightly as the sound of thundering breakers hitting a distant shore filled her ears. The sound of the Sword-coast and the World-sea.

She lowered it again, and stared out across the water from her usual vantage-point. The events had been many-fold, and had ended with her, priestess of the Sea-queen, greeted as a hero of Cormyr. What an absurd twist of fate. But she hadn't done it for Cormyr, had she?

She thought of the incredible voice that had sounded from the dead man's ring. She laughed and shook her head at her own astonishment. Her immediate decision that she had to see the man behind that voice, no matter what. She knew she was being played, but it didn't matter.

And John had been everything his voice had hinted at. Charming, handsome, suave, confident and dangerous in the extreme for her peace of mind. She was glad she had seen him, talked to him and that he'd still walk this world.

A small wist-full smile, the same as she had seen on the Steel-regents face, passed her countenance for a moment.

He was not for the Steel-regent, and not for her-self either. She was quite certain he'd never be for one woman at all.

As soon as she had laid eyes on him, she knew that, and when she spoke to him, she'd only been confirmed. She had found her love already, years ago, and his name was Zaebros, not John. But...

she lifted the seashell once more, and listened for a moment, laughter in her eyes.

... in another life, perhaps.

[irene]

Reina Damarra stood in front of Umberlee's shrine in Marsember.

When she'd stood here first, it had been a neglected and ramshackle little construction. She wondered if it would decay into that again, with her gone....

No matter. It was time. She had felt for a while now, that her time in Cormyr was up. Time to go. She'd head to Sembia, to Urmlaspyr, and create herself a position there, learning how the Goddess was served in such a self-serving nation.

Looking around Marsember's busy docks, she wondered when and if she'd ever return? Only time could tell... but as for now, it was goodbye.

Memories filled her, triumphs and defeats, friends and enemies, for good or bad. Mouse, Rigrin, Lidda, Leon, mad Aria Blake, Edward the Loviatarian, Dusk, Vrulo, Reyvan, Isiolith, Randal, Celith, Kelric, Oriana, Lucius and many, many more... some dead, some gone, some still struggling in the never ending quest for power and glory. And, of course.... Zae. Zaebros Del'duren, renegade red wizard, law-abiding champion for the good and weak and meek... until his research took him away, and only when visiting his laboratory, she'd see the man she called her love. A wicked smile passed her countenance. When he discovered she had gone, he'd have some fun finding the letter she'd hidden. But he could teleport after her, if he so desired.

She grabbed her equipment, and smiled wryly. Ten years after, and though she was filthy rich, and owned equipment that she'd never dreamed existed, she still did not own more than she could carry.

She stopped a moment, again regarding the shrine. She'd never learned the identity of her father. She wondered if she ever would... Perhaps. When she'd build up the courage to head back to Baldur's Gate, grab her mother by the throat, and force from her the truth. Simple, really... and yet impossibly difficult.

The late, low sun reflected in the sea, blindingly bright, with sea-gulls screaming above her head, as she crossed the bridge and went to the ship she'd demanded passage on. Shortly after, the anchor was raised and the sailors, giving her a wide berth of respect and fear, went aloft to lower the canvas, catching the eager wind that took them out of the harbour... away from Cormyr. Behind her, the trident in the hand of the statue on top of the shrine caught the setting light, glowing red for a moment. And sadness filled her, but also excitement as to what was lying ahead. Goodbye, Cormyr... Goodbye, Marsember.... Goodbye, dear friends and hated enemies and all the others. Goodbye!



The End!

Or maybe not?

[irene]

Reina Damarra stood at the bow of the lugger, the wind tearing at her cloak as the rain-shower drove across the ship. The master stood in the other end, by the helm, and the small crew was busy with the sails, except the one standing next to her, readying himself as the master was about to turn the vessel over bow.

He eyed her nervously a moment, but kept his attention on the master, awaiting his orders, as gusts drove showers of rain and seawater over the deck. Reina's black hair was was plastered to her skin, saltwater whipping into her eyes, as she stared ahead, into the grey sheets of rain.

The master yelled, and the sailor let loose the line he held, and started pulling in another. The mast creaked as the great spar slowly turned, the huge canvas thundering as the small ship was steered into the wind. Expertly maneuvered, the ship straightened, and then keeled over to the opposite side, as wind caught the other side of the sail, rapidly picking up speed again.

The sight gradually improved as the shower passed, the mighty cliffs further down the shore suddenly springing into view, raising steeply out of the water. Almost, for a moment, it was as if the outline of a building could be seen there, but as the weather cleared there was, of course, nothing.

Steadily the lugger steered into the harbour now, the masts of the naval vessels moored on the other side of the Canals visible over low roofs. Straight ahead, behind the many merchants ships, a small building on the edge of the water emerged as the weather cleared further, and a ray of sunlight broke through the clouds. A female figure on it's roof, raising a trident high. Reina smiled suddenly.

Many months had passed since she had left, and while traveling the coastal cities of the Sea of the Fallen Stars she had seen shrines to the Goddess she never knew existed, and visited all the temples she could find. And yet a feeling of joy swelled in her as they slowly glided into the still waters of the harbour. This was Marsember. And this was her shrine. A sudden laugh escaped her, startling the sailor who was busy securing the ropes.

I have returned!

[irene]

Valkur's roar? Valkur's ROAR? VALKUR'S roar?

Reina Damarra paced the suite in the Cloven Shield, furious with anger and frustration after her return from another extended travel.

What nerve! Outrageous. Such ingratitude! How many times had she stuck her neck out for Cormyr? How many times had she risked life and limb? The Silent Dominion. The Reavers. The Mad Mage. Capture and torture. Sembian spies! And the ONLY thing she'd EVER asked in reward was a piece of barren land between Marsember and Suzail. Nothing there but hills and cliffs. No money, no titles... just that stretch of land. She'd rebuild The House on the Cliff out of her own funds. All she ever asked was the bloody land. And never as much as a reply!

And now this! Naming Redmist after the whimper of a sad and obscure demigod, who's feeble attempts at opposing Umberlee was almost beneath noticing. Almost! This at least should not go unnoticed. If Cormyr was set at laughing in the face of the Queen of the Deep, she'd have to show them something else!

She kicked the the table in futile anger and clenched her fists in fury, before throwing herself into one of the chairs.

Easy woman. Easy. Fury has it's time and place, but for now subtlety was called for. She'd have to think.... and plan. Cormyr be damned! She'd make them regret this... somehow!

[irene]

Reina Damarra looked to the drifting clouds as the wind from the sea tugged at her clothing.

She was wandering in the hills outside Marsember, where once The House On the Cliff had been located. The trident that had been gifted her by Umberlee rested on her shoulders, while her black hair flowed free in the wind.

She lowered her gaze, grey eyes looking across the ocean, attempting to quell the melancholia rising inside her.

She felt empty and without purpose. She had power, wealth and freedom, but nothing to apply any of the three on. All her attempts at obtaining the lands where the temple had once resided, had been met with complete silence. The favours she had done the crown, the risks and dangers she had faced in one threat towards the realm after another, from the Silent Dominion, over the mad Talosite Reavers and to the Mad Mage, had all been in vain.

And now she had left Zaebros. Her lover, friend and companion through years. He'd become increasing withdrawn, spending all his time on studies into his art, attempting to wring arcane secrets from old tomes, and strange summons. And yet, when he had responded to her letter, and they had spoken in The Cloven Shield, she had found it hard, oh so hard, to leave him. If only he would take joy in life, and leave his endless search for ever more knowledge, she'd never had left him. She knew she had done the right thing, and yet she felt the yearning to once more see him emerge from the inn in Greatgaunt, spinning his staff, and greeting all those present with a ready smile.

She could still hear his attempts at reassuring her: I'll be all right, don't you worry." More likely, he would never again leave his study, either one day starve to death out of distraction, or succumb to madness from the spell-plague.

The emptiness she had felt since that day once more threatened to overwhelm her, her hand clenching harder around the haft of the trident.

Weak. Her mother would laugh at her, and call her weak: Love, girl, is but a fleeting illusion that comes to us, when we fear loneliness. But those of true power are always lonely.

Reina could her the cold voice of her mother as if she was standing at her side. A brief surge of anger swelled in her, and she yelled across the ocean:

Why must you ALWAYS be right? To the Abyss with you, foul harpy! Leave me alone!!!!

[irene]

The wind tugged at the long black hair of the tall woman. Standing in the hills outside of Marsember, briefly glancing at the refugee camp at the gates, before turning her gaze to the rolling waves. Gulls soared on the stiff breeze, their harsh cries echoing. She leaned on the trident she carried in her hand, her face without expression.

Back again. For how long, I wonder! It seems I cannot keep away from here. Well, we shall see.

She watched as a heavy galley worked it's way against the wind, the oars raising and falling like the legs of a strange insect. She couldn't make out the pendant flying from the mast, but no doubt it was from the other side of the Sea of the Fallen Stars. It would soon reach the harbour and the sailors would add their voices to the multitude of dialects and languages already spoken in the great port. And they'd pass the Deep-green House and pay their respects. Of fear or understanding, that mattered little. As long as they understood that at sea there was no king and but one Queen!

[irene]

Cormyr again.

REINA DAMARRA had thrown herself on the couch in Talbot's in Valkur's Roar. Pondering upon the strange situation, she found herself in, all of the sudden. A month ago she had been in Baldur's Gate after the long journey around Moonsea and the Sea of the Fallen Stars. Hillsfar, Mulmaster, the ruins of Cimbar, Urmlaspyr and Westgate. The great temples of the Goddess, forgotten places and countless nameless shrines she had visited, before the long journey to The Gate. Five years she had been under way. And she had barely arrived, before the urge to see Marsember came over her.

So once again she travelled to Cormyr. The very same route, this time, as thirteen years ago, when she had fled The Gate in order to make her own future, rather than the one that had been decided for her. First Greatgaunt and then Marsember. And there she had learned why the urge to return had come over her.

The Goddess' anger was a tangible thing to her. It represented danger. But also opportunity. Opportunity to right the wrongs of the past. But she would have to play her cards carefully. Powers both old and new were set against her. Some in the open, some who had not yet revealed themselves.

We can't get it all! But neither will we accept a mere token. The Fury of Sea will not allow herself to be mocked once again. But we must act with restraint. And the fool woman who had taken over the shrine in Marsember had better understand that, or there will be consequences!

In the meantime there was new players to get to know. New adventurers swaggering through the streets of the cities of the realm. Most of them so young. So secure in their own power. They did make her feel old, but a few years past thirty isn't old.

Well. It isnt! Not really!