Private Tales The Exiled

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Maiden Saint Achaea

Saint of the Suffering
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Achaea's travels within inner Amol-Kalit had thus far proven successful, even though perhaps she wished they hadn't been. It was clear the badlands had no shortage of suffering and death, a solitary Saint could not hope to save all the souls in this land, and yet as the Saint of Suffering she persisted aiding any she came across in whatever ways she could for nothing in return. The lands did hide some beauty beneath it all, that Achaea was certain of, travelling the long desert roads with only the dusty wind as company the Saint had much time to ponder the strange purity of such a desolate place.

Coming across many different people on the journey thus far, fate had it she ended up walking the same road as a Komodi Clan. At first due to her species she'd been harassed and viewed with suspicion, Achaea's equally passive and patient demeanour meant eventually the walking Saint was loosely "tolerated" by the Komodi sharing the road with her. While she was wise enough to largely keep to herself, she had been within earshot of many Komodi discussions, one of which got her attention...

Whispers of a black cart and the cursed charlatan at its head, a wanderer or more accurately an exile from what she gathered. This "al Hayim" held a blood debt to these people apparently because of his obsession with the Forbidden City which had resulted in many deaths...

Perhaps predictably the Saint of Suffering redirected her long march in pursuit of The Wanderer, whose tale was one of sadness in her eyes. Tracking the black cart certainly sounded easier than the Clan had made it sound, there was no wake of suffering or any ill omens in her pursuit of the Komodi that one might expect from the stories told of him.

Yet thus far her faith had a way of leading Achaea to her destinations and so soon enough the shape of a Black Cart came into view from around a towering sand dune. Achaea approaching Zhadhir al Hayim's cart from behind surely looked a tad strange, the human girl wandering apparently alone with no cart or mount or much baggage at all. Her body covered by a rather worn saintly white cleric cloak and dress, practically all of her pale white skin seemed covered in a layer of worn bandage wraps, her outfit ensuring the white cleric certainly stood out against all the tan of the dunes. Marching closer while her face was sheltered from the sun by her cloak's hood, up close it was clear one of her eyes was covered by the same bandages concealing most of her form. Scanning the cart from behind as she nears she did her best to spot the Komodi Wanderer.