Tyria Ravensong – Dark Sorcereress

Raised among a community of rogue mages and dark practitioners of Minera’s Breath, Tyria’s early life was a turbulent one. Constantly on the run, moving from street to street, town to town, squalor to sewer. Though her parents tried to play off such a life as normal for those of her kind, she knew it was anything but. There was only one other child among the group her parents were bound to, and she took little liking to the snivelling brat, Norville. Any chance she had to fraternise with other children were rare, and often resulted in a scolding by her parents for any such attempts. To her parents their lives as fugitives was one of liberty, though the trawl of living in ghettos and being ever on the run ensured any childlike wonder or ambitions would never take root in Tyria’s heart.

No, her heart was stern, cold, calculated and jaded, even from a young girl. When she one day learned that spellcasters could indeed exist in Baldur provided they held a license, she was furious at her parents. Her tumultuous childhood had been for naught, in her mind. Though her parents had taught her many spells, she rarely was afforded a chance to use them, nor had a passion to use them either. Thus she left her flock that same day, travelling to the capital of Grimgate where she quickly sought for a Breath Wielder’s License. The license however, held many restrictions: no spells could be lawfully cast that would either influence the mind or eyes of a citizen of Baldur, nor bring them harm (unless authority was given by a Count, Duke or the King himself). Although it was guarded by five dozen pages of paperwork, she saw its true freedom in no longer having to hide herself, nor spend her life on the run from the Inquisition. The people of Baldur held illwill to magic users like herself, though it was barely worse than what she was subjected to in her life of poverty.

The privileges that came with the license quickly ensured that indeed, she would never return to that life. Though the people of Baldur hated magic openly, behind closed doors many required it when Baldurian Engineering or Medicine could no longer do the trick. Though these were usually mundane tasks: a merchant wishing to speak to his cat, or a local Baron wanting his treasury and home secured with arcane locks, or his food magically tested for poison. Occasionally a matter of healing was required as well, which not even modern medicine might cure; usually minor curses inflicted by maleficent faeries of the forest, or identification of a lingering disease where no two doctors can conclude on the same ailment. Her new life as a travelling sorcerer for sale was hardly one of hardship, and was mostly uneventful. That was until she received a summons from High Inquisitor Lorthren himself, calling her to Baldur. Her heart sank as she read the summons, though she knew it would be folly to ignore it, or to flee the kingdom: the Inquisition would find her, and have her head if she refused.

Thus she journeyed in haste to the capital, where the High Inquisitor informed her that a man from her childhood had been arrested as a conspirator of Dark Mages hiding within Edimir’s underbelly: Norville. He was quick to rat out Tyria and her family as co-conspirators, though Lorthren knew this to likely be a tall tale, as he himself oversaw Tyria’s application for her Breath Wielder’s License, though he knew Norville was likely speaking some truth in the matter. Tyria divulged her life story to the Inquisitor, and admitted that she knew nothing of her parent’s current whereabouts, though they were never Dark Mages plotting to undermine the Throne, but instead free spirits with no regard for authority or reason. The High Inquisitor thus revealed his offer to Tyria: to aid him in uprooting the true co-conspirators of Norville, or be labelled as terrorists based on the snivelling man’s words. Knowing her situation to be futile if she were to resist, she accepted the terms, aiming to clear the name of her and her family. Though she requested to be there when Norville was thrown in front of a firing squad at the end of it, to which Lorthren agreed.