Mirathyl Kaylna

Human bard, level 3

Description:

A kind heart that loves to see others smile, but jaded from years of being stuck in the gang that crushed the innocent (and ignorant) mind she had.

She loves to perform and play, in part of the memory of her teacher wherever he is, as well as the love of the art itself. However, meeting and getting to know/trust anyone is a real struggle for her.

Flaws:
Despite my best efforts, I am unreliable to my friends.
-Noncombatant
-Cautious

See http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=713770 for rest of info.

Bio:

Mirathyl was born to an mostly unknown artisan within the city. At a young age she showed more of an interest than others her age in the bards and other performers that came through their area. After having watched a number of them, she approached one of the more entertaining bards and played a snippet of a song she had loved.

The bard, impressed by her apparent aptitude, approached her parents with an offer to train her. Her parents hearts were torn, as was her’s, while they considered the offer. Finally, they agreed for her to go with the bard knowing that it would better her life as she was far more interested in that craft than that of her family’s.

Over the years she trained with the bard and honed her ability with the lute among a few other instruments. The tales of the bards of yore that her teacher spawn fascinated her, especially those that brandished the whip as their primary weapon. Time and again she would probe his mind for why the bards seemed to have lost that proficiency as it fascinated her…far more than using a simple blade. Spurred by her imagination, and a whip provided by her teacher, she trained with it as well as the music she loved.When she came of age that her teacher thought her ready, Mirathyl received her own lute to travel throughout the city and perform on her own.

The sheltered life with the bard , however, left her rather…ignorant of how things really were and the actual state of the city.

A few years passed as she made her rounds through various taverns in the city. While there was plenty she had difficulties learning, she made use of how keen her memory was in adapting stories she heard each month into new songs as others seemed to fade away. The memory of her teacher was kept alive by the lute she performed with as well as a snippet of what he had told her was a well loved song long ago that he never found the rest of (and of course, her unique weapon).

One night things took a turn for the worse in her seemingly easy life as the lute that was given to her was stolen from what was supposed to be a secure area of the inn. While she could have had enough money to buy herself a new one, she had simple just accepted food and room along with a small cut for maintenance so she had no way to obtain a new one. Rather distraught that morning as she sat at a table, she was surprised when a young man came to her to offer her a loan to obtain one of the more special lutes in the market.

Still rather ignorant of the possibilities, and distracted by her distress, she accepted the offer from what seemed to be a fan from the previous night. Everything quickly turned sour for her when she found out the terms of that loan and the “interest” they were trying to charge her…much less the people who originated the loan. Her heart sank when she realized how she let herself be duped and blackmailed by the local gang.

The next few years taxed her heart and mind as she was essentially forced to help the gang in their…endeavors – entrancing crowds with her performances so that the pickpockets could make off with what they could as well as using her perception and memory to scout out the local merchants and lords as she performed for them for the gang to hit later. The only thing that kept her going, and remembering what she really wanted to do, was studying the snippet of music that was the last thing of her teacher.

While she hated what she was doing, she felt completely trapped. Her one time of trying to confront them ended horribly and it made her scared to try to confront anyone again, and anytime a fight broke out she could hardly resist the notion to hide. Of course, they easily blackmailed her with the knowledge that while they loved how efficient she made their tasks she could easily end up the scapegoat whenever they wanted.

During all this time, there was one individual in the gang that she felt…at least ok being around – a half-orc that was essentially her guardian/watch dog. Her time within the gang made her reluctant to talk to anyone else…scared to reach out for fear of being duped by the gang further or the gang thinking she was trying something and for her to end up the scapegoat of their threats.

One night things finally started to turn a bit better for her…in a rather twisted way. The half-orc guardian, Syrio, was with her on another scouting trip on the rich merchants. While they were gone, a rival gang attacked the headquarters of their gang and killed most of the members. While she was somewhat glad of the opportunity they gave her to develop her craft further (and end up being somewhat taught in stealth arts) there was almost no remorse for what happened to the gang that blackmailed her…aside from the sorrow she felt for Syrio and the loss of his ward. That night as they got away to a safe as spot as possible she quietly played whatever songs she could think of to ease him.

Over the time since, she tried her best to help Syrio in whatever tasks he had from the new gang though she tried to avoid anything that was like she was forced to do before. She hated what the gang made her do as she always thought about the hero from one of her favorite songs and how she was nothing like that. Though, with her being the coward and no real combat training that she had become it was only natural and wasn’t sure if she was more of a help or a hindrance to him.

All she wants now was freedom – freedom to play and live as she wanted, freedom to see smiles on people’s faces as she performed without the inner knowledge gnawing at her that she was hurting them as she did it, and freedom to be able to look more into the snippet she had and find the rest of the beautiful song her teacher left her. Though, she wasn’t sure how she could really do that with how much she ended up hiding behind Syrio..

Mirathyl Kaylna

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