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Qadariya
Qordinn Morte
High Councilor

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re: The Story of Lady Nyphera...

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Life as a citizen of Neriak is not an easy life. Being a Dark Elf is not easy anywhere.

Let me introduce myself to those who don’t know me and re-introduce myself to those who remember me.

My name is Nyphera Isto’Chath, and I am a Dark Elf Wizardess. Isto’Chath means Night Fire in Drow, and there is some dispute as to how the family name originated, some say at one time of internal warring in the city, late one night they set half the city ablaze, others say they saved the city from outside attack by setting the whole of Nektulos forest aflame, forcing attackers back. I always thought of it as a comforting thing, like a warm fire in the chill of night. Something that set me apart from my own kind (to be soft is not thought kindly upon in our society; strength, and brutality were the admired features ) and something I had to work hard at hiding. Let me explain.
Being born a Dark Elf means a life of strife, petty jealousy, deceit, constant mistrust and general backstabbing within your own back yard, let alone with the outside world.

My childhood was the usual one for one my kind, kept within my parent’s stronghold in the city. Love and friendship were weaknesses not allowed in our society. The closest thing to friendship was how useful the other was in gaining your own goals and once finished, that was that. If you were lucky, you went your separate ways, if not, one was no longer taking in the sweet air of life.

I don’t remember much from the early days, just feeling different and being a constant sore on my parents already easily aggravated tempers. I spent a lot of time hiding in store rooms and playing in a few hidden passages I had found to keep out of their way. One night I had fallen asleep in one such passage, and I was awakened by the sound of clashing steel, the acrid smell of fire from magic and screams. I didn’t move until long after the sounds had died down. I crept from my hiding place and wandered the halls and great rooms. All were dead. I crept to my parents apartments, my father lay in a pool of his own blood, my mother burnt beyond recognition. Seems their enemies had gotten the better hand and taken a step higher within the hierarchy of Drow society.

Afraid, and in shock, I took my first steps into the city. Alone, hungry and lost, I slept behind crates and stole crumbs of food to survive. Each day I would hear the cries of the City’s great wizard and long to follow the voice. One day, that voice drawing me, I found my way into the caster’s tower and crept to the lower floors. I found my teacher, and a way to gain power and defend myself.

Of course I made my first mistake almost as soon as I began my studies … and I awoke naked outside the city for my transgression. A terrifying thing for a novice of wizardry who had just spent a week lost within her own city. A great enchantress who found delight in my situation toyed with me for a bit; then as payment for the “entertainment” I provided, showed me back into the city.
From that day on she would take some interest in my growth and on my 7th turn as apprentice “allowed” me to join her sisterhood: “The Dark Maidens”. A society made up only of drow females (doomed from the start). My turn with the Maidens did not last long, the inner turmoil between the leadership, the growing dissatisfaction in the sisters in the more frequent and longer absences of the leader. By my 14th season as Novice I was once more traveling alone--well some what. By then I had met Atersanitas, a very handsome young Drow Priest (cleric), who was also a misfit and shared many of my own feelings. We became inseparable and engaged.

In our 17th season as novices of our professions (and thinking ourselves quite learned in traveling, so naive we were then), he was sent on a mission by his guild and never returned [real life intruded and he didn’t return to the game until a bout 15-16 months later]. A widow before even being a bride. Depressed, I ventured into lands I had only skirted the boarders of before. I met a young human wizard named Uzielen, and we hunted crocs along the beaches of the Oasis. He in turn introduced me to a spunky Dwarf Cleric who belonged to a very noble group called Sanctus Covenir. Through the 2 of them I met many noble and able warriors and healers. The leader at that time was a great Barbarian Shaman Named Kirth and his Lady a loving and caring human Priestess (cleric) named Synjun. I met many wonderful folks, so many it would take nearly a half a page naming them all. They made me feel welcome and asked if I would like to join their group. Of course I jumped at the chance.

Oh, did I forget to mention at that time, there were only a few of us “ dark“ races in the Saints? They had only recently realized that we weren’t all “bad”, just misunderstood. Took a while to convince the higher ups to find us a meeting place that the locals didn’t want to kill us poor “misunderstood” folks on site. (Our meeting place was in North Karana, atop the tower bridge leading to South Karana ) It was becoming quite annoying to have to let the guards beat us to death (when invis failed) and then be rezz’d during the meetings, made life much more bearable when the meetings were changed to the Arena.
I spent many days and nights with this noble and caring group. Questing and killing monsters with my brothers and sisters--the most memorable a dragon for the Lady Synjun for the cleric epic--sitting in the cave all hours of the day and night awaiting the dragon’s return. I remember rolling out my bedroll at 3 in the morning and just having fallen asleep when the call to arms went out to awaken all. The dragon had arrived.

We fought, we died, we were resurrected over and over again until the dragon lay bloodied and dead at Lady Synjun’s feet. That was the best battle, the best show of camaraderie I had ever known. We fought hard together with a common goal for a woman we all held in high esteem, and for the betterment of the guild. I don’t think anything has ever surpassed that moment.

As much as I loved STC, I was still a bit of a misfit and slowly found 4 others that fell into the same category, a rambunctious druid named Roseangel, a little gnome mage named Wiser (who later took a long nap so that the human monk Swifter took precedence), a druid named Renwynn (who also took a long nap so that a bard named Milowyn came to be) and a scaly lizard monk named Ryrek. We became a group, no, a well oiled team of late night hunters. We knew when Swifter yelled “bringing a few” he meant he had a hell of a train following him and to be ready (thank god Rosie and I could both evac, but that sweet thing would on a few occasions still leave one of us behind.)

But as time goes on, people grow and change; people come and go (as real life dictates), and it became harder to do things within the guild. Some wanted to go further, higher, see and do more challenging things, and our guild (as wonderful as it was) was becoming a bit fragmented, key folks would be on less, the few raids we did plan ( s we weren’t a raiding guild but a family guild that sometimes raided) were cancelled time and again for failure to form. We lost many great people and as much as we tried to remain close, the structures of the raiding guilds made it impossible and many grew distant. I then lost 2 of my close friends to such a guild (after 6 others of our best raiders had left for the same said guild), and I mourned the loss of my hunting companions Rosie and Swifter.

I loved STC and held tight for a few months, but as I watched fewer and fewer awaken to adventure, I lost hope and finally followed my close friends. BUT I always offered my help if needed to my friends in Sanctus Covenir. I always considered myself a Saint in my heart, no matter what path my foot trod.

Now my days in Norrath (EQ1) are at rest. I left belonging to no guild as many were a disappointment (as fun as raiding was, the family raiding guilds became “THE RAIDING “ guilds , instead of the 2 or 3 raids a week it became nightly, with point systems, then reward point systems and so forth and so on which became more work than fun ).
I have been reborn in many lands and times since, but none I call home like I did my 3 years with STC in EQ1 and I still am full of fond memories of the members I met in real life at the 3 gatherings I attended. I still have close contact with Roseangel, Swifter and Milowyn (Rosie and Milo (and wife) came to visit me for a long weekend this past July (we set up 4 portals upon my dining room table to venture into the “world of Warcraft” for the 3 days they all were here) Swifter couldn’t make it, poor lad, was working 2 jobs to save to move to some place called Oregon, in mid August)

Perhaps one day I will find my friends in a new realm and put forth a request to once more be a full member of the family widely known as the Saints of the True Covenant.

Nyphera Isto’Chath

**note this was written by Nyphera and transferred by Q**
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