Severnaya: Background

Basic Information - Background - Character Sheet Search for a Weapon - Seeking a Thrill - Rumblings of Revolution - Dawn of New Covenant

Chapter I - Destiny the Pickpocket

Severnaya entered the gambling hall in central Gethamane. The place was packed with denizens from all over Gethamane. While there was no work tomorrow for many, there was work to do tonight for Severnaya. She walked through the crowds of loud, drunk miners, merchants, and hunters. The place smelled of cheap ale and smoke and was dimly lit by the lighting crystals embedded in the ceiling. It was a well kept joint, with a gentle mix of lower-class workers and affluent individuals. Cheers erupted from a nearby dice table. Someone had just won big.

She glanced to her left and saw two rugged thieves watching her, as expected. There were likely more. She proceeded to the back of the hall, clutching her pouch filled with silver tightly. She couldn't let anything about tonight go wrong. This was her biggest task yet. She was finally getting some recognition among the powerful criminal network in the city, and she wanted to keep that going. Despite the large crowds tonight, one card table was idle. An aged man smoking a pipe sat across from a young female dealer waiting for a second player to join him. Severnaya sat down next to the man, and stacked her silver tokens in front of her. The man's stack was not nearly as large.

"Right on time," he said, puffing a perfect oval of smoke from his mouth. "I like that." They both tossed in their ante of 100 dinar, a very high stakes table and one that Severnaya on any normal occasion would have no business sitting at. The dealer tossed four cards to each player. Severnaya picked her cards up. She loved this game; it required incredible skill in both selection of cards and betting. Her starting hand was mediocre. "200 dinar," she bet.

"Call," the old man matched her stack of tokens and both players proceeded to discard two cards they did not want. The old man puffed another perfect oval from his pipe. Another two cards were dealt to each player. Severnaya's hand did not improve. The old man, in a whimsical tone, tossed his remaining 200 silver into the pot. "Two hundred more. That's all I got." She reluctantly matched.

The two turned up their cards. The old man had a meager hand, but it edged out Severnaya's. Neither showed emotion as he raked in his tokens. The dealer delt the next hand. Each wagered another 500 and again Severnaya got beat, this time pretty handily. This guy had some skill. His stack was up to 1500. Another hand, another loss. She didn't seem fazed. The two each had two thousand silver remaining. As the dealer tossed four cards to each of them once again, the old man spoke directly to Severnaya. "My dear, have you ever been to Amaranth Pass, in the Black Crag Mountains?"

She wasn't supposed to engage in conversation with this man, and she was surprised he was even speaking. It wasn't the proper protocol, and it was an odd question anyway. She had never even heard of Amaranth Pass. She responded flatly, "No," while looking down at her dinar and not at him. He pushed in his remaining coins. "That's a shame. It's an oasis. A place of refuge. You'll know it when you see it." Severnaya finally looked up from the wooden table to him. His grin widened, and he winked at her. Without breaking her stare, she pushed in her remaining two thousand dinar. "Turn them up," the dealer called. The old man did so. He had her beat once again. A perfect hand. She mucked her cards and stood up from the table. Her work here was done.

She turned her back to the table and began to walk away. She stopped dead in her tracks as saw the same old man walking toward her, toward the table. He began to take a seat. She looked back where the man was just sitting. He was gone. This old man did not acknowledge Severnaya as he sat down, he simply stacked his dinar neatly in front of him and waited. Severnaya backed away from the table slowly. What just happened? Who is this guy? Who did she just pass that payment off to? Something definitely wasn't right here. A wave of fear washed over her nerves as she realized a huge mistake had just been made.

Chapter II - As Good as Dead

Suggested Music: Leaves' Eyes - Mot Fjerne Land

Severnaya quickly surveyed the room knowing that the situation was about to escalate quickly. Surely there were several other men in this very room with their eyes on this transaction. She turned and walked between the rows of gaming tables, taking a winding route but ultimately heading for the casino's exit. Her demeanor was nonchalant and her footsteps were soft, but neither mattered--she was being tracked.

She felt the sharp point of a knife--or a sword, she couldn't tell--at her back. She stopped in her tracks as the raspy voice behind her whispered in her ear, "Brave of you to gamble away our money right in front of us."

She had been tricked and she knew it. Perhaps they had been tricked too--had this man not seen an identical old man take the money from her? She couldn't be sure, and this wasn't the time nor the place to ask such a question and get a serious response before being attacked.

She responded to the man, her tone was just begging for trouble. "I'm sure that money went to better use anyway," she said as a smile crept across her face.

Faster than her opponent could react, she initiated a spin kick that connected with the jaw of her attacker. His body lifted off the ground and landed several feet further behind. The knife he was holding spun around aimlessly in the air; not missing a beat, she snatched it out of the air and immediately began to look around for other immediate threats.

The patrons were immediately alarmed and all attention turned to Severnaya. A few yells were directed at her, particularly from the casino guards, but they weren't the biggest threat at the moment. Two rouges leapt from the crowd in an attempt to tackle her. She jumped into the air instinctively, over a few gamblers, landing on a card table and scattering chips everywhere. The two collided clumsily in the walkway. Over the heads of the crowd, which was growing increasingly anxious, she could see guards pushing their way over to her. She had to get out, and fast.

She used the gambling tables as stepping stones, hopping over patrons and closing her distance to the main entrance. When the row of tables ended, she jumped and landed in a spot on the floor recently cleared by the bystanders. "Bar the door!" came a call out from behind her. She looked up alarmed, as the door was a mere 12 feet in front of her and she had almost escaped. She saw a guard by the front door reach to his right for the bar. She quickly released the knife that was in her hand, sending it spiraling in the guard's direction. It was a perfect hit, piercing through the back of the guard's hand and fastening it to the wall.

She smirked again as she took off in a sprint. She burst through the door and into the covered streets of Gethemane. Not far behind her were several in pursuit, a mix of henchmen and casino guards. She weaved her way through the busy streets, making several turns and trying to lose her pursuers. She finally reached the busy bazaar district, and attempted to blend in with the crowd there. She put her hood up to hide her bright white hair and proceeded to walk briskly through the dense crowds of shoppers.

She slowed her speed through the crowd the further she got, sensing that the distance between her and her pursuers was growing as they sifted through the crowd trying to identify her. She decided to approach fruit stand trying to look like a casual shopper. About 30 seconds past before a tug on her cloak scared her. She glanced behind her, then looked down. A small child looked up at her.

"Excuse me, miss," the boy said.

"Beat it kid," she snapped, and turned back around. He tugged again. She snapped her head around and yelled louder, "I said beat it!"

Behind the kid, no more than 6 or 7 feet, was a guard combing through the crowd. He did not make eye contact with her. The child, frightened by Severnaya's hostility, began to cry and run away from her to the other side of the corridor. She hoped the guard did not take note of this, but assumed that he did. She began to walk casually away from the fruit stand. She sensed that the guard was indeed tracking her. There was an entrance to the city at the edge of this district, which by now was not far away.

She picked up the pace once again, and could hear the guard's footsteps behind her increase in pace with hers. She broke out into a sprint, pushing people aside forcefully causing a lot of commotion. The guard behind her yelled, "Stop her!" but the commoners who heeded the order were met with a graceful dodge or a forceful stiff-arm to the ground.

The crowd thinned out as the city entrance neared. She sprinted through the gate; the guards became alert and turned to face her. She turned around to face the entrance of the city. standing on the edge of a steep cliff. The path to this entrance ran along the side of the mountain. Her hair whipped in the bitter cold wind. Snowflakes began to collect in her hair and on her clothes. The line of guards was reinforced by the guards that pursued her, and moments later some of the thugs who had also been chasing her.

There was a tense moment of silence between them. She was, for all intents and purposes, trapped. The icy path from the city would simply lead her nowhere and following it would assure her capture. Re-entry to the city was out of the question. There was only one other option.

She took a deep breath and leaned back, letting the wind continue to push her off the edge of the cliff.

One or two of the guards rushed forward in a hopeless attempt to stop her. "Stop," the lead guard called out.

"She's as good as dead."