The Caster, the Locksmith and the Hand

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An introduction to the thoughts and history of one Ianes Shen

Now, one might be led to believe that all of that in which the title entails are in relation to three different people. However, they are more of a collection, a series of phases in which one Veela; Myself, has gone through during their time upon Nave. Now, I hear you thinking already, 'A literate Veela? What has our beautiful city of Tindrem come to?' And I understand completely. For once, there was a time in which I was not. From my spawn in the depths of the Jungles to my tribal accomodations, I was raised rather illiterate. However, with the expansion of human territories, myself, along with many other Veela, decided to venture out into the greater world. And so, members of my tribe began to venture to the cities, to explore, and attempt to understand the wider culture of Myrland, and apply that of our own to the realm. Now, I do understand that us Veela have garnered a collection of stereotypes in relation to thievery and other such, apparently, frowned upon acts, and I am in no way attempting to say that they are wrong at all. If you come by a Veela, because of our upbringing in such a nature as the strongest survives, and what you find is what you get, such ideas as thievery seem significantly less punishable than those within the walls of your... 'Great' cities would have us believe, and the Khurites, even the Sarducaans, aren't much better with that. My, you'd think living in the desert the Sarducaans could give us a little slack, but clearly they're just human, and stupidity is just a racial trait.

Returning to the topic at hand, I, a Veela, ventured into the walls of Tindrem, as the cultures of humanity began to delve into our home, and it only seemed fair that we return the favor and bestow upon them some of our own. So, from the people of Tindrem, I learned how to pick a lock, and I have since been told that that's, 'disreputable' because 'only thieves break locks'. How awful to assume that the two are interconnected. Although, when in relation to myself, they aren't, entirely wrong. I did go through a phase of particular 'poor'-ness, when first stepping foot into the city of Tindrem, clad in nothing but bland leathers, and the bones of a few beasts I had slain alongside my tribe. With the obvious mistrust towards my people, the language barrier which I made sure to quickly remedy, and the salespeople's unwillingness to accept such currencies as the hide of a boar, or the meat of a deer, I found it quite difficult to properly accommodate, as apparently sleeping on the street is frowned upon. Even when I see humans doing it all the time, and even some of those, disgusting looking Thursar, I'm apparently a 'thief' just for trying to get some rest, constantly being kicked and pushed around for all such things. Again, true, however they lack the evidence to prove of such. And still quite rude of them to assume. So, I spent a few months, at best, plucking cylindrical metallic 'coins' from the pockets of unsuspecting strangers, until I one day saw somebody, with around a dozen heads in a leaking pack on their back, wander up to a man and peddle them off as if they were some commodity. Naturally, I inquired, and after being ridiculed for my 'primitive' attire, and my 'disgusting' appearance, I was told that I could, in cold blood, murder anyone dwelling within the sewers, and return with their heads for a remarkable amount of coins. And so, I 'gathered' some reagents for my spells, braved the stench and the abhorrent lack of light, which has now been remedied, and began my spree.

To my surprise, upon my return I remained unpunished, and was instead rewarded for the execution and retrieval of heads. In such a society as this, one might begin to wonder why we, who hunt for meals, are considered primitive and tribal, whilst those who kill that of their own kind are praised as educated and intelligent. But, with a way to gain coin, what sort of 'civil lady' would I be to start complaining? I returned to the sewers a few more times, and continued to gather heads, being able to actually purchase items instead of having to pluck from the belongings of another. Which, is more a benefit for them, than it is for me, if one really thinks about it. But, with said currency, I began to purchase more acceptable attire, scales, leathers and a surprising lack of fabrics, and pay for my casting reagents. I began to ponder, if I get rewarded so handsomely for killing disgusting sewer dwellers, surely I'd be rewarded even more for proving my strength to the more wealthy of Tindrem? And so, I picked out a target, and when nobody was looking, I struck. Apparently, such behavior is frowned upon. I'm not even sure how they knew it wasn't the head of a sewer dweller. It was probably the smell, actually, now that I think about it. But, after a while of searching, and a while longer away from the guards, I found a man willing to purchase the rarer commodity, and he was fully prepared to teach me a unique skill in return for a few of them. And so, a few of them I gathered, and he taught me how to pick a lock. And it was this which was the major turn-point in my history.

With the knowledge, and equipment to be able to pick a lock, I began to search for chests within the walls of Tindrem. Finding a few, filled to the brim with coins, gems, and even some scrolls for unknown magics, my wealth began to grow quickly. Or at least I thought that was quickly, until I met a prospective gentleman, who told me of the riches hidden in the sands of Sarducaa, wealth buried in the dunes, and scorching heats, and all I had to do was brave the environment to get it. Intrigued, I ventured into the wastes, properly equipped for such a venture, and began my journies there. And, by the will of the Anam, this gentleman had set me on a path from which I would gain wealth beyond my prior visions. In these sands, I found artifacts, gold like one would never believe, abandoned steel, and I have heard even that there are still books, ancient books, which teach of things beyond imagination. Imagine the wealth I could gain if I continue -- And when that wealth is achieved, oh the influence I will have.