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Name: Valin Piranor
Class: Mist Mage
Weapons: Kirimi-an old sword, her Siren's song
Personality: Her doe-eyes can be used to allure and ensnare, and she can seem as innocent as she looks at times. But the thoughts that pervade her mind the most are those of the loss of her sword and mother, and what she would do once she had recovered her sword. She's not afraid to get dirty or fight, though she knows she's at a disadvantage in the department of brute strength. Whenever approaching someone, she always hides within her mists first, finding out what the other is up to and if they would need subdueing before she appeared to them.
Goal: To take revenge upon Scythra and Simundrid
Likes: Swords, those who are easily taken in by her mists, information
Dislikes: Most people, especially theives, dry air
Quote: "If you do not leave me be this instant I shall kill you" -Normally spoken to Neko

Family:
Mother(deceased)- Nirana Piranor
Father- Unknown Tarien(deceased)
Siblings- None that she knows of
Grandmother(deceased)- Ji'Rivani Piranor, killed by Scythra
Aunts(deceased)- Kalandra Piranor(eldest daughter), Landrita Piranor(middle daughter)
Uncle(whereabouts unknown)- Simundrid Piranor(youngest child)
Cousin- Scythra Piranor(daughter to Simundrid Piranor), the curent Matron of House Piranor

Family Freinds/Acquaintances:
Tarien(deceased)- Swordsmith for Nirana
The Matron of House Barrith- Correspondance avec Ji'Rivani, Matron of House Piranor

Acquaintances:
Mikaril
Rusayla

Freinds:
Divintra

Possible Enemy or Freind:
Micarreth Barrith

Enemies:
Mas'Dun Barrith
Scythra Piranor
Whoever killed her mother and stole the sword(Simundrid Piranor)

~~History: Kirimi~~

Kirimi is the name of Mother's sword, her very precious and ever improtant sword. She claims it is the sole heirloom that gives right of the possessor to rule the House of Piranor.

This confuses me a little, as she always tells me that Houses are weak and only focused on obtaining the power of Social status which is meaningless in the real world outside of the House system. She tried to explain to me once what it meant to hold rank by a Name instead of a House; that the Name of Piranor was stronger than the House of Piranor.

But it is only as strong as the one who possesses it. If the bearer is weak, then the Name begins to lose its meaning, and if the bearer is strong then the Name may begin to surpass the meager strength of the Houses. I do not entirely understand it yet, as it is merely one of Mother's many philosophies on the strength of an individual, but someday I plan to know and understand all of her ideas.

In my soul I wish to become the Drow she is, but as of yet my lowly self has yet to attain even a morsel of the pride and respect she commands. Other eyes may not see her as such, but I think that is one philosophy of hers that I understand: the command of what one thinks of themself branching out to command other's respect instead of waiting on other's respect to fuel one's own respect for themself. But even that explanation is difficult for me to reiterate without becoming at least slightly confused.
It means I still have a great deal that I must learn if I am to become the Warrior that she is.

I am getting lost in my own thoughts... I was explaining the origin and importance of the sword, Kirimi; I have babbled enough on how much I long to become the Drow that she is.

The name of the sword may be Kirimi, but the Name the sword contains is Piranor. Whoever possesses it is the successor to the Name. My mother has worked hard to gain possession of the sword from my grand Matron who did not wish to pass it on to one she veiwed so lowly as Mother. It was originally meant for one of two of Mother's sisters; both of which were killed by throwing daggers as they were about to receive it. No one knows from where this daggers came, only that the one thrown at my mother was deflected by her as she took hold of the sword in her hands.

Yet still the perpetrator has to be caught, though we have no clues on their whereabouts or purpose. My mother has a younger brother who also disappeared at that time, the action of which caused many a suspicion to befall him. However, the accuracy of the daggers and the style in which they were thrown indicate that the deeds were done by a professional cutthroat, and my mother's brother was in the process of becoming a Necromancer. So it is unlikely in the minds of many that he himself threw the daggers, but does not exclude him the blame of possibly hiring a cutthroat to throw them for him. Some even speculate that his disappearance was because he refused to pay the cutthroat since his last attempt failed and so the cutthroat killed him for his purse. But since no body has turned up that possibility is not a certainty.

I am becoming distracted again, though I suppose it is still part of the familiy history around the sword and as such is still a relevant topic for me to write.

The purpose of my explanation was to give enlightenment on the need for the sword to remain with the successor of the Name of Piranor, and, as the next successor behind my Mother, I plan to be the one to inherit it. Only when I have properly been trained by Mother and have grown to be the Drow that she is will I be worthy of the sword's grace, and so I shall begin my training now more fervently than ever. It may take a while, as I am not naturally so strong willed and independant, but I do have patience. And so, I must bid this journal Adieu for today; Mother is calling and the sword is waiting. Adieu!

History: The Siren's Call

I am confused. I am on my own and without any kind of weapon other than that of Kirimi's sheath. My mother was a Warrior, and yet she met her demise so easily... I was to obtain the sword, yes, but how can I become the Warrior I desire to be with it without it? I could always go to her, but I would rather chance the streets of the marketplace than to answer her call as of yet...

I have decided to undertake the training of a Mage, an Elemental Mage. I am going to become a Mist Mage, but my mists shall not be mere tools at my disposal. No, if I am to be caught off guard without anyone but myself to protect me, I am going to have an ally.

My mists are my freinds, and they comfort and protect me as no other freind could. I know they have no second motive, I know they do not simply wait idly for me to sic them on an opponent and then be done with them. They have their own emotions, and they will not hesitate to defend me if they sense mistrust or violence from another.

Unforunately, with this method of connection to my power I am unable to call out its full potential when I so desire. So far it is merely my will that lets them move about and my will that tells them on occasion where they should move. But full potential does not reside utterly in the will of the Mage; it resides in the passion of the will, what they so desire to truely happen by the cause of their actions. I have yet to obtain the passion in my power... I could say it is hate, but that would be untrue. The death of my mother was not surprisingly somewhat mundane for a Drow, and my wish to retreive the sword and utterly destroy her killer are somewhat mundane as well, which sets my power at a mundane level.

I must focus, must reach past mundane greed and hate and all of those emotions to something, ironically, pure. I do not know if it is pure emotion, pure thought, etc. And I am not meaning 'pure' as in 'innocent'; I am meaning 'pure' as in, well, I want to refer to it as simple, but the word really doesn't explain what I mean in the least.

I came to this realization one journey to the port. One shipment consisted of strange instruments, and, in my naive curiousity at the time, I had wandered closer to figure out what it was they were for. The guard discovered me and, no doubt fearing my presence as that of a female drow disgustingly enough, gave me a demonstration on one of the instruments. It was called a 'violin'. The sound it made was rough as he played it at first, but after he let down his guard and fell into the music, for music is what is was, and do not ask me what I mean by 'fell' for that is the only way I have found I can explain it; there the sound was. Pure.

I had asked him if it was for sale; he had replied that it took years and years of practice in order to become truely skilled at an instrument, that and after he told me the price I knew it was entirely out of my meager range. I could have gone to her to ask for the money, but I was still unwilling to go to her, and besides that, I would likely have to explain what it was I wanted the money for. She would never agree to the purchase of such a 'toy'.

Disheartened as I could be, I had asked if there was another way for me to learn to play music. He said I could sing. I had never tried to sing before, as it was not part of the warrior path, and to my surprise I actually admitted to this fact. He was surprisingly calm about the revelation, he even showed me music and how to read it. I must have stayed there for at least an hour. I purchased the music, a tune called 'The Moldau', the same song he had played before on the violin, and was eager to practice my voice. It only occured to me as I was leaving to wonder why a man would go to such lengths to help another, but I was unwilling to ask him directly. The leader of the shipment explained that he was simply another slave trying to impress a possible owner, one who did not look like they would regularly beat him. Disgusting trade.

I left the port somewhat more saddened than usual, which felt odd to me, but the emotion soon revealed to me what it could do.

Seated next to the glimmersea, I began to expirament with my voice before attempting 'The Moldau'. The sadness I felt was apparent in the tunes and the notes that I found to be within my vocal range at the time. My voice is surprisingly eerie and sweet as it echoes over the waters, and my eyes feel as though they could swallow up the whole of the Glimmersea just by glancing at the sparkling waters. When I do happen to glance upon the shimmering surface I discover that it has become murky and the normally bright pointpoints of light glitter softly in the air. My mist had formed of its own accord, which was not unusual, but it was unusual for me not to notice it. As my voice challanged new heights my mists danced and attacked the air with whatever the emotion was that I sang. It felt almost like the pure song of the violin; my mists were directly connected to me and what it was I desired them to do. If there were something I wished them to shred all I would have to do was let my lips part in a peircing note, a few notes lower and the shredding would turn into a violent frenzy of the act of throwing something through the air and into the ground until if there had been a physical objection placed within their grasp it would be demolished quickly. They could really not accomplish much in the way of physical harm; they lacked the power of real water and the deadly edge of ice, but the intent was within the entirety of my mists being.

I discovered more what it was capable of when I tried to sing 'The Moldau'. Depending on the nature of my notes and how I bade them to flow together my mists not only took on different actions but seperate identitis and forms.

As I make my weary journey to my small dwelling, with my voice sore from extended use I cannot help the grin from my face. I had found the purity within my call to my mist's power; I have not been able to perfect my control over it and I am still uncertain what boundaries and other abilities my mists may hold, but for now I feel I have made a step forward in my ambitions. My next task is to find more music.

~~Present: The Grand Matron and Mother's House~~

Mother is gone and I am on my own, I couldn't even pay for the small shack Mother was renting. Though that was when I was small. I am no longer small but it seems that I have not learned anything since that time when I knew nothing, I am still clueless in all except some of the uses to which I can combine my power and my song. I have learned how to scour the marketplace in search of shops or villians who might have hold of my sword, but after checking all of those in my home town my nerves were rattled enough. I am not good with crowds...

The reason I mention all of this is because my grand Matron has contacted me, summoning me to return to the House. I foolishly decided to answer the summons, as I wished to know more about the House my mother left behind, and here I am now on its doorstep. The door is not as big nor forboding as I remember, but it is still forboding and stretches enough above my head for me to remain cautious of it.

There are little to no servants left in the House, as my grand Matron has written, so I am left to push the cool iron handles inward myself. The main entrance yawned before me, the torches that one would probably find harshly lit in a higher ranking House not even existant in the holders of my House. It did indeed look poor. Not as poor as the ramshackle dwelling Mother had secured for us, but poor nonetheless.

I looked to my left, where her summons had mentioned the throne room to be. Cautiously walking along, my mists as usual trailing behind me to explore every nook and cranny of the walls, I again allowed myself to wonder why I had answered her summons.

Curiousity, mainly, other than that I really wasn't sure. Maybe the grand Matron had cast some spell on the summons to draw me here. I did not know exactly what kind of female my grand Matron was, at least I did not know yet. That was another part of my reason for coming, wasn't it? Who was my grand Matron that my Mother would want to exhile herself from her very House? Our House was very low in the rankings, though it had not always been so. Was the behavior of a lower ranking House more or less desirable than a higher ranking House?

I waved these questions away with my hand as I would have a particularly annoying and clingy strand of mist. If I as to find out just exactly what my grand Matron was up to and who she was I would simply have to go to the throne room and find out for myself. Afterall, I was trying to find my way out of my Mother's shadow, I couldn't simply reside within what she had told me about my Matrona and the House. I would have to see for myself and come to my own conclusion.

~~Present: Vow Never to Return~~

Thanks to my less than enjoyable stay at the House of Barrith and my refusal to acquiest to the Matron's request, I have come back to my own House's doors to face my own grand Matron. My thoughts are still roiling madly in my mind and I am seething over what trivial matters I was sent. If this truly was how most Houses acted I could very clearly see why my Mother had excommunicated herself from Piranor.

But still I was going back, I was giving my grand Matron the chance to prove that she was inlike the Matron and the deceitful Drow that had inhabited House Barrith. What kind of a fool was I? I might have well have said myself that I was still as naive as the little shadow I once was, going back to face the Matron to which I refused a request and expect only myself to be the angry one.

As soon as I set foot in the throne room she stood from her thrown and angrily spat at me, "Why are you here? Go at once to apologize to the Matron Barrith for dishonoring her House and attacking her son! Do you wish to severe our ties with the only other House who has kept up our meager friendship?!"

Granted that I should not have attacked Mas in the way I did, I was in no mood to be told that my reaction to her orders was not met with the disdain that had filled the order in the first place. Her meager friendship could fall to the farthest depths of the Glimmersea for all that I cared.

"Nothing," I replied icily, "And no one can make me go back to that liar and coward infested House to anything near what you demand of me." I had begun to leave when the Matron called me back.

"I am only trying to think of the good of the House; if its future Matron is unprepared for the ways in which to rule I fear it may fall even farhter into the goddess's disgrace," she grudgingly explained. Her eyes were hard and her jaw was set stubbornly, as if I would not get another explanation from her if I tried.

I laughed at that. Did she really think I had any desire to be Matron?

She scowled at me and snarled, "If I had another option for the line I would gladly take it, but since your cousin is busy hiding in the lower levels of the House and has no interest in the recovery of the sword, it has fallen to you. Though I regret it so."

This was the first I had heard of a cousin, but I was more focused in making my point than asking about a relative I had no knowledge of. "The only thing that will bring me back within these walls will be the knowledge that I can wave the sword in front of your face as I exhile myself like my Mother did," I called back over my shoulder.

The grand Matron then smiled at me darkly, "Well, then, your Mother's little shadow is welcome back whenever she might find any information pertaining to the sword that might aid in my own search so that she will not be given the opportunity to gloat in such a manner."

I stalked out of the House with the vehement vow not to return.

~~Present: Motherly Similarities?~~

Along the Shores of the Glimmersea

Post pending being able to get it out of Neko's head~

~~Present: The Curiousity of Others~~

And the Val's Follow Suit

Post pending end of rp~