Sveja Vael: Stories (Out Dated)

[Sveja]

Describing our Teacher: Ashbite Scarnox

"The most important person in my life since... well, ah." Since being orphaned by a Horror, the questioner meant. Given the subject of the question, there was no ambiguity. The ork paused to consider for a moment. Though she already knew the answer, she felt a responsibility to think it through thoroughly. Too many had been important to her to answeρ this question off-the-cuff; she owed due consideration to so many who had been with her. The ork sitting by her side, a stern looking fellow only a couple of years older than the subject of the question, shifted uncomfortably. He maybe wanted it to be him, but knew it wouldn't be.

Her lip curled in that way it did when she was nervous, or thinking. She had painted her lips a fierce red, matching the shade of her hair, which was set off like fire against the backdrop of her unusual slate-dark skin. She had always been of notable appearance, no-less so for the glow of golden eyes - the irises seeming several sizes too large. She had been marked out since birth: for good or for ill.

That, of course, was part of the sudden interest. Having been a nearly unprecedented Co-Champion of the Black Company's Grand Tournament, Sveja had split the reward with her competitor Mes'Ilayah Madeara, with the opportunity to join the Company having fallen to her. Many would celebrate, while others might scoff: she had been raised by the Company since a child, and her membership seemed like a formality more than anything.

Still - that is why she was of such sudden interest to interview.

"I would have to say," she responded with a hint of hesitation remaining. "That the most influential person in my life has been my Company teacher, Master Ashbite Scarnox." The dwarf interviewing her took down some notes in her little booklet while nodding encouragingly.

"He has been, I suppose, like a second father to me. Though more unlike my father he could not have been. Strict and serious, rather than warm and gentle. He has helped guide, and teach me over all these years and prepared me for these moments." Silently she wondered whether his being strict and serious had been exactly what was needed; something she often wondered. Her adolescence had often felt loveless, not that it could not have been worse - much worse.

The woman continued to take some notes, nodding along agreeably. She was passingly familiar with the man being referred to, but could always use more details. "Master Scarnox, he would be the company member missing an arm?" Sveja nodded, adding "and an eye."

"Of course," the reporter nodded. "Do you know how he received these injuries?" Sveja and her friend Waruck each let out a laugh. Sveja drew her lips back into a slightly threatening smirk, "Why don't you ask him?" The dwarf felt a chill run up her spine. Orks usually treated a subject so lightly with good reason. Living with Gahad quickly developed their sense of what subjects to avoid. An old soldier like that, even with just one arm, could be terrifying with that sort of fire in his heart. She stammered for a moment before Sveja laughed again, "Would you like to know what happened to the last student who asked?" Her fangs flashed in a grin as she offered a humorous tilt of her head.

The dwarf shook it off, and raised a hand to politely decline. "No, no... that will not be necessary, but I would like to know more about him."

Warruck answered this time in his resonant voice and ready orkish manner, "He was a well known fighter once. They say he never learned the Warrior's way, but could always hold his own when called upon. Since the injury he has become a teacher for all our young soldiers. He focuses on developing the mind and spirit. Tactics, history, and more." Warruck spoke with great pride, and folded his arms together to add emphasis. It was clear that both of them greatly respected this teacher.

Sveja picked up the thread, "We do not really know that much about him, but he has taught us about almost everything. He wants to prepare his students for all aspects of conflict, and for the challenges we will face in the rest of life as well. He teaches us the old ways, those our people followed before the Kaer. We are all learn as children that our ancestors live with us and watch us. But he teaches us just what that means. How it should drive us to be. And how to call upon them in our times of need."

She leaned back, taking on an assumed air of importance as she mimicked her teacher’s manner and tone, “There is more to winning a fight or battle than martial prowess. Poise, timing, composure. Above all patience, and wisdom to know when and how to strike. And all are nothing without the resolve to do what you must no matter the consequence.”

The reported continued to scribble notes, but returned to that last with a skeptical tone, "And does he teach such things to all of his students, or just to orks?" One could detect - almost - the note of disdain in her voice.

"All, of course." Answered Sveja as if it were as obvious as the time of day. "Your ancestors are watching you as well - and will come to your aid if you allow them."

The woman nodded with an insincere, "mmmmm..." and carried on.

"Now tell me about your preparation for the Tournament....?"

[Sveja]

The Rock Garden
"Why a rock garden?" the young ork girl asked herself this question - out loud. She was sitting outside one of the Black Company residential buildings attempting to arrange a series of irregularly sized, shaped, and colored rocks into some meaningful pattern. Really, it was an effort to put Teacher's words into action. He had only described the process in general terms: to do more would have been to make the task too easy.

But what was she supposed to do with such generic advice as "Consider the season and its color. The blooms, in both color, shape, and arrangement should bring their season to mind in the observer. Arranged in such a way among the rock as to create the desirable emotion. For example: excitement for Spring, when new life breathes afresh and the cycle begins anew."

"Thanks teacher," she breathed with an indignant huff as she aimlessly moved one rock beside another. And then reversed them. And then again. "Aubretia and Golden Blooms," she said more in defeat than excitement. "Yellow for spring. Blooming at the same time - and hopefully in the little sun we get back here."

That, of course, was the reason for a rock garden. No real garden would grow in this particular patch between two rarely used walk-ways. In the shade of the building with rocky soil that was simply left over from the foundation work that went into the adjacent buildings themselves. There was no hope of a real garden growing here. And probably no hope of a rock garden either.

"What'cha doin'?" came a cheerful, if weak voice from just outside of her sight. It was a familiar voice, and one that did not belong to a namegiver, but to a local spirit in the form of a young girl named Anmalee. The two had been friends since Sveja first found herself living on the streets.

"Rock garden." Sveja answered, dejectly, trying to pile some stones on top of one another. "And what's that?" the spirit's voice asked, while she rolled back and forth on her ethereal heels. Sveja sighed, "A garden with rocks." she answered without enthusiasm. Then the spirit asked, "And why would you do that?"

"Because Teacher said to." Sveja almost growled in frustration at her friend, before calming herself. "Honestly, I do not know, but he said he would teach me how, and then just left me here to do it myself."

"Ooooooh -" the spirit breathed, as if she actually understood. "Here, let me help!"

Whether the girl spirit, who could not manage to move rocks or plant herself, truly helped matters would be hard to say. But Sveja appreciated the help all the same.


Several weeks later...

Sveja was again at work in the garden. She no longer found the work as disagreeable as it had been. She had dedicated a substantial amount of her time to it, taking the time to study and learn and even gather materials. With a greater understanding of her task, she had turned to her penchant for drawing as well. Through art she could try various plans, achievable or not, and even anticipate how things might look when the flowers bloomed.

Teacher's continued advice had been both spare and terse. He reviewed her progress periodically, and had shown disappointment when it appeared the girl had not taken the task seriously. But, just as she was taking more to the task, his visits had become rarer. Now that it was often consuming all of her free time before dinner and leaving her filthy with soil and grit, but proud of what she was accomplishing, he showed no sign of interest.

Anmalee had already departed one evening, while Sveja rooted and worked in the graden. She was working off of a drawing that had been attached to a make-shift easel. She was busy comparing several different arrangements of rounded rocks, all of various sizes and shades ranging from blue-grey to near black; but, in the middle of her work she felt a shadow fall over her. The light of the Kaer was suddenly and almost completely blocked from her.

She turned with a frightened start, suddenly and found herself at the feet of a truly massive red-hued Obsidiman. She had little experience with their kind and found them mostly terrifying. Their hands could easily hold, and crush, her entire little head head like a jar of jelly.

She recognized this one, Redstone who was an important man in the Company, but that did little to settle her nerves. She swallowed apprehensively, but he was not looking at her. He seemed to be examining her work with a blank curiosity. She stared in reply, too afraid to say anything.

After several agonizing moments he broke the silence. "What are you doing?" he asked, as if he had just spent that whole time trying to decipher the goal of her efforts and failed.

He gestured with large, stony fingers toward the rocks she was working with. "Placing stone upon stone - next to stone? Above, behind, in front of other stone?"

She nodded, "Yes, sir Redstone, sir. It is a rock garden. Or... it is supposed to be."

He went back to examining the collection of stones, with an intense curiosity that would have reflected in his features if they were capable of showing it. Finally he said, "I see... very good. Yes, very good."

He offered a slight bow of his head. "I think you could do, to listen to the stones. That would well please them. You will find they may know their natural place in the arrangement." He made a little gesture with his finger and smiled with unusual warmth for his kind. "You will do very well, little lady." He nodded approvingly, and carried along on his way.

Later Reflections

"...and tell me, what did the experience of creating a rock garen teach you?"

The question came out of nowhere at the end of a long personal session. It had been years since she had arranged that garden, and she scarcely remembered the details. The area never received enough sun for the flowers to grow well, and it soon grew into disuse now inhabitated by a collection of strangely dissimilar rocks and scraggly weeds that barely clung to life. This mess awaited the next student in need of a hopeless task.

"Ah, teacher?" she started, as if she must have misheard him.

He stalked away from her, like the old boar he was, and turned his back toward her. His one hand reached up to stroke his whiskers as he returned her to that thought. "Rock garden."

She sat upright in her seat, her mind suddenly plowed through years-old memory as she sifted and searched for some detailed memory of it. Minutes passed in silence. Teacher did not press her impatiently at moments like this. He was demanding on matters that required bold and intuitive action, but preferred to allow students time to reflect deeply on matters of thought and philosophy. This was one such topic.

As Sveja processed her thoughts, she tried to fit those seemingly ancient experiences into the rubrics and structures of Teacher's philosophy and teachings. It was great effort, but she did begin to make some connections in the lessons her efforts had taught her. Like disparate threads coming together, her individual memories started to weave a fabric of whole thought.

At last, she leaned forward in a seated bow.

"Teacher. Pursuing a rock garden helped teach me to put general teachings to purpose doing something wholly new to me. So that I could better learn how to do something of which I had no experience."

The old ork grunted. This was a sign that more was expected.

"An opportunity to study aesthetics in a natural setting. To understand how things of such different kinds can come together to compliment each other, forming a whole that is greater than the sum of the individual parts. Harmony."

This drew a more satisfied grunt of approval. He liked to see his warriors show any understanding of aesthetics or philosophy beyond killing their opponents.

"I learned something of Obsidiman as well. And from them, of the nature of stone. Captain Redstone reminded me that all things may have a spirit associated with them: stones included."

"Very good. And fortuitous." He stated - the presence of the Black Company's Executive Officer had not been his design.

"But what of struggle?" He asked, guiding her forward.

Sveja paused, thinking for a moment. He did not pressure her.

"Struggle..." she repeated the word, as if it would clarify her thoughts. It was a habit he despised, but he showed only the slightest aggravation this time.

"I struggled with ignorance. With a lack of desire for the purpose. I had no interest in the matter you had assigned me, and had to learn to find purpose in the assignment itself."

"Hmmm..." came his reply.

"There was physical struggle as well. The work was hard, harder than what I was used to at the time. I wandered the Kaer looking for rocks, and ideas for the flowers to grow. I visited the library, and tried to speak to an Elementalist."

"You did all of these things, without a desire or passion for the project?" he asked, pointedly.

She shook her head, "No, teacher. I only went so far after I came to understand it as important and something I wanted to succeed at."

His back was turned so that she would not see his smile.

"I learned, too, that overcoming struggle was easier with help." The smile faded - had she cheated, getting the help of an older student? She seemed to detect his displeasure, and carried on to explain, "A spirit, who was a friend of mine, visited me several times to see what I was doing. She could not do much - unable to shift the rocks, or understand the vividness of what I was trying to create. But she listened, and kept me company. She gave me reason to look forward to those hours of effort. And I found, through that, that I wanted it to succeed for her sake as much as mine."

He grunted, as close to approval as he would get, this time.

"And what of failure?" He asked, sternly.

"Failure...?" she asked with a suddenly worried confusion.

"What became of this garden?"

"Oh...." the strength of her voice faded. Her entire spirit seemed to shrink under the accusatory question.

"I.. it.."

"It never grew." he interrupted. "Never bloomed. Never lived up to your expectation. Do you think it pleased me?"

She felt her heart plunge, and a sudden struggle to maintain composure. Teacher was a difficult man to disappoint, no matter how frequently it happened.

"No..." she relented weakly.

"And so?" He asked quickly.

She seemed unable to make reply.

He prompted further: "Did this failure invalidate all that you have told me you learned though this rock garden?"

Her voice was still weak, and she answered meekly, "No..."

"I did not hear you." He answered with a gruffness that bordered on anger.

She bowed quickly to the floor, and answered with a voice emboldened, "Teacher. I learned all of these things through my failure."

He grunted again.

"That is all for tonight. Meditate on the meaning of struggle and failure. We will resume at the usual time."

[Sveja]

(this guy, but with an eye-patch)
Ashbite Scarnox, Background Information

Mentor and Father-Figure to Sveja - Black Company

Stats: Non-Adept Fighter, Teacher, and Questor of Tranko/Thystonious/The Boar

Summary: Black Company Ork of the old school. Devotee of Tranko or Thystonious. Refers to him as the Boar, or Old Boar owing to associations with the Cathayan Passion Joo. Missing a leg and an eye. Black Company teacher of Philosophy, Strategy, and Learning. Has effectively served as Sveja's Guardian, and ersatz Father Figure after adopting her into the company. He has been devoted to her well-being and education, but never loving or offering the appearance of much care. He has continually, intentionally, pushed her to her limits over the course of raising her.

Biography: His father was a Black Company soldier, as was his grand father, and so on for generations. He earned a Company Commission despite not being an adept, largely through ferocity and persistence, aided eventually by his devotion to the Old Boar. Was known as a hot-headed fighter and duelist. He eventually answered a challenge from a Blood Guardsman of some repute, a Sword Master Adept. Despite the Guardsman being the superior combatant, Ashbite emerged the victor. But the victory cost him a leg, amputated after the bout, and a eye, taken by the Guardsman's dagger.

It was his last fight, and since that time it has been well known that to ask him about either that fight, or about his injuries triggers his gahad. He has only spoken about it since then on rare occasion, and only if he brings it up.

He was crushed when his career as a fighter was ended. Deep in his cups, and contemplating retiring or just ending it all he was blessed with a visit by the Passion himself who challenged him to an arm wrestling contest. The ork battled furiously, and lost. Seemingly at the last moment of his despair the Passion revealed himself as he rose from his seat, and extolled his Questor's virtues. "Your struggle does not end here!" he pronounced with a laugh, "You have many more challenges ahead - if you find the strength to face them."

Sore and unsure of the meaning of what had transpired, but knowing it a powerful blessing, Ashbite's spirits rallied. But it was only when an offer from the Company arrived that he understood what had been meant: they invited him to fill a new position as a teacher of the Company's young soldiers. He still had much to offer them, and many challenges ahead.

He threw himself into his newfound career with passion and vigor. For decades he has studied the art of war, and the philosophies and teaching of his ancestors and taught young students. He pushes his students hard, never punishing failure, but accepting no excuses for shrinking from challenge. Dozens of Black Company Warriors, Cavalrymen, soldiers, and more look upon him with veneration and respect despite his harsh and curt manner. There is no doubt about his caring: but he rarely, if ever shows it.

If he could boast of just one thing it would be that he teaches his wards how to learn from failure to become stronger fighters, and better people.



Relationhip with Sveja:

He adopted Sveja from the street, the result of a chance encounter after a series of dream visions. He took her into the Company and gave her a home and found her employment. He made raising her his life's work, and has devoted much of his spare energy to it since then. She looks at him as a father-figure, which is not a role he would accept, for he has no concept of how to provide a fatherly presence for a child.

Examples of his techniques are using group efforts to place her in difficult positions. He has ensured that she has faced struggle and hardship, difficult but surmountable, almost every step of her life. He gives her room to breath, but just enough so that she does not become complacent. He has made special efforts to teach her philosophy and ways of thinking and learning. Games of strategy have been an early and long focus. He meets with her regularly, and has done his best to offer council on navigating the challenges of life.

As an example of his teaching style, when she once complained that she didn't know why they played, because he never let her win, he replied, "From what I see you stand to benefit, while I gain nothing. I challenge you each game, and show where your technique can improve. Yet you do not yet challenge me, and I find nothing to learn." For it is not about winning: there is less to find in victory than there is in learning and struggling in defeat.

He does not teach martial technique, nor physical fitness and education. He encourages both but his focus is the mind and the spirit. He never discouraged outside activities, but only after she had devoted enough time to her work and studies. He encourages the spirit of Tranko, always pushing students and extolling the virtues of the Passion: growth and strength through courage and striving against challenges. He rarely, if ever, refers to the Passion by name but alludes to him by speaking of "the old boar" - a symbol drawn from the Company's past in the Far East. He quite readily shares stories of seeing the Boar himself, often just out of the corner of his eye at the end of some great trial or combat. But he never tells the story of his meeting the Passion in person - indeed most days he doesn't believe it himself.

He did not know how to handle a young woman, and given the segregated nature of ork education he separated her from boys at an early age. He does not teach social skills directly, but tried to ensure that the environment around her would give her room to learn in the school of life, with ample opportunity for hardship and struggle. Many lessons, he believes, can be taught by explanation. But most that matter must be lived and experienced.

Strict but fair. She has no idea just how rough he made her life. And he has no intention of telling her.

She also has no idea just how proud of her he is.

He is an old ork. His days draw near to an end. With the events now underway he does not expect to live to see them through. The time for his final lessons are here. It has been a decade he has spent preparing for this. It is time.


Token: Family heirloom, a large horn craft from the tusk of a massive boar from the Far East, accented in silver with recent leather bindings. Plans to leave this to Sveja, as his has no children of his own.

[Sveja]

Vravraka

Sveja’s mother, still a young woman, walked the dream world. It was the night of her Vravraka - she had felt it coming just as she had with her son before. Not all mothers were so fortunate, the sense of warning gave her the opportunity to spend the night at the Shrine. Here the ancestor spirits were still venerated, and they would lend the unborn child their strength and, so the belief went, build bonds that would last throughout the child’s life.

Soon she was joined in dream by the form of a young girl of about five years (roughly 8 in our reckoning). A girl! She tried to hide her excitement, but the emotion soon eroded with worry. Her daughter’s face was emotionless, her skin almost pure black, and her eyes glowed with a gold light that almost seemed to hum in the silence. They walked together in the darkness for some time. This was nothing like Orek’s vravraka, and she began to fear the worst for her unborn daughter’s health.

A flicker of light in the depths of the darkness caught her attention. Soon she could make out the form of a slithering, red dragon snaking its way through the void. Starting beneath the horizon it rose and soared, moving around them in every direction. The serpent was wreathed in flame, and soon the girl’s voice began to echo slowly and boldly through her mind, though the girl herself seemed not to speak.

I am Dragon’s Fire.
Wroth to burn all it touches.
I am Death for all you hold dear.
But I shall struggle to make you proud.
I am Sveja.

As she announced her name the dragon passed directly overhead. The flame of his breath licked the girl’s head, igniting her hair into long strands of fire.

Father shall pass me to you across a roaring fire. For I am wrought of flame, and must learn not to fear it.

The dragon and void vanished, replaced by green fields beneath the warmth of a daytime sun she had never known. The girl’s long hair cooled to a crimson red. A color both of fire and blood. You shall use an eagle talon to draw blood from my newborn heels, that my blood may sprinkle father’s fields: for though I will never till the lands like him, I shall feel no closer kinship.

A clearing opened in the field, and before the pair there approached the vision of a young ork man, whom mother instantly recognized as her toddler son grown tall and strong. Then you shall then give me to my brother Orek. So that he may hold me high over his head and declare my name for all to hear: For he shall carry me into life - as I shall carry him for the rest of mine.

She had awoken in a cold sweat, her breath caught in her throat. Bad omens were not unheard of in vravraka: not all children were blessings. But even under these circumstances she had expected nothing so frightful. Rumor quickly spread of the doom the girl predicted.

The girl was born just as she had seen her. Her dark skin was unusual, but not entirely unheard of. Similarly she was born with deep crimson hair that covered her head like a gentle fuzz. It was here eyes that most unnerved people, causing whispers of witchcraft, horror influence, and curses. The Naming Ceremony was carried out as demanded - though her mother never fully explained the full depth of its meaning to any but her husband.

The question of Sveja’s vravraka always made her mother sad, and the girl could never understand her unusual name with its roots in draconic tongue no orks fully understand. She would only offer a sad smile and remind her, “You will always make us proud.” Sometimes she would ask her daughter, “When you get older, never forget to take Orek with you.”

But she shared everything with her husband, Sveja’s father, and both tried to understand as best they were able. They would do anything, including giving their lives, for their children. And they prepared in what manner they could for the inevitable trial.

[Sveja]

Re-Work Update

I doubt that anyone but me cares here, but one advantage of not being a shaman is that I remove some of the complexities and internal conflicts within the character as I'd laid out. A lot of my effort it working on her background stories in here were trying to thread that needle between wild berserker, and kind communer with animals and spirits. I'm not going to say it doesn't work, but it does set up a lot of internal contradictions that are distracting.

With the non-magical approach I will dispense with most of the spirit associations in the stories, though I think they will still have some small involvement since as a Dragon Kin she's always been able to see them, and I imagine them as quite common in the Kaer.

The old Shaman woman I think is a good canonical fit for the Kaer, but she is no longer a mentor figure in Sveja's story, and most of the animist/spirit based themes in her backstory are no longer relevant or helpful. I already know the direction I am going with this revision, a focus on her street orphan childhood, and on her becoming a Beast Master and then a Cavalier within the Black Company. Her Company Instructor becomes the main formal mentor in her growing up: his focus and philosophy do not change. He still has taught her to be a philosopher-warrior to the best of his ability, doing his best to channel her passions through patience and determination so that she may rise to be an inspirational leader rather than a hot-headed trouble maker.

These are also some really boring pieces, though they helped me collect a lot of my thoughts over time. I may rework some of them given time. But a quick summary is:

*Sveja still has a fondness for the cultivation of plants, thanks to her father. She has attended to his peach tree, but this is no longer a spiritual matter.
*She is no longer lead to the Shaman woman by spirits. She is not out-of-place as a child due to her connection to the spirit world. She is a pretty typical street urchin whose unusual moreso for her relationship with animals.
*Ashbite Skarnox is unchanged.
*The Rock Garden story is still very fitting, but with a less spiritual element. The purpose is still the same: teaching patience, and the importance of things that may seem unimportant.
*She still dreams of the open plains, but no longer has spirit visions with the Eagle Spirit.
*The Apprentice No More parts probably require updating on details, but are generally the same. They should maybe be re-written somehow that isn't so boring.