Ehliel - The Harlot Queen

[Amon-Si]

Elhiel - The Harlot Queen

[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TzgLXWdAQas[/youtube]

Ehliels portrait can be found here: http://nwvault.ign.com/View.php?view=Portraits.Detail&id=4559



Ehliel was born Lucinda Terallas, in Thossos, the largest city in the Eltabbar region of Thay. She lived a normal life until the age of eleven, when her demonic traits manifested themselves. She sprouted rapidly growing wings, her finger and toe nails became a glossy, jet black and her canines grew a little, becoming sharp fangs. It wasn’t long before the red Wizards found out about her changes and she was torn from her family and sold into slavery to the red wizard Aruman. She was kept in a state of semi-consciousness for a full sixteen years before a botched summoning ritual saw one of her demon ancestors awaken parts of her racial memory, grant her, her new name and purge her of the drugs that kept her quiescent. It took another full year before she was able to seduce her master and rip his throat out when he was at his most vulnerable.

With the death of Aruman she fled, walking the streets, begging, stealing and selling her body to survive. Eventually she came to the Silver Lily, a Brothel specialising in “Exotic” tastes. Ehliel slipped smoothly into this new environment, something in her tainted blood allowing her to enjoy the most perverse of pleasures and experiences. Whispers from her unconscious bringing her ever closer to the demons in her blood. She greatly enjoyed her time at the Silver Lily and spared no expense in acquiring the finest things, the freshest sensations and the most exotic goods. However, she was once again forced to flee as a noble son, during one of their more… forceful sessions died at her black-nailed hands. She abandoned all she had acquired to escape and live again.

With the little money she had managed to scrounge she bought herself passage out of Thay in the hopes of a new life and new sensations just over the horizon. One night, the caravan passed through a thick fog bank, arriving on the other side one passenger lighter.

[Amon-Si]

Personality

Oh, language warning for this clip.

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Ehliel is vibrant, chatty and above all she is alive, she takes pleasure in every moment of every day, hardly able to sit still for any great length of time in silence or stillness. Ehliel has no shame, no great sense of pride and doesn't really believe in non-material things like love or honor. This does not mean that she will blindly scrabble for all she can get, she's far more likely to help someone than shiv them in the back because having allies is the easier way of those two to gain power.

Ehliel tends to waste the money she earns chasing new foods, drinks and sensations, it is her obsession to experience everything she can. As a sensate, she enjoys all forms of stimulus including many that are usually considered to be negative, like pain.

[Amon-Si]

Appearance

This is Ehliel, just tack on some wings and paint her nails black, Enjoy!

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[Amon-Si]

Warning, Alanas past involves many situations that some readers may find uncomfortable, offensive and deeply disturbing. It contains described scenes of child abuse, slavery, violence, deviant acts, dark rituals and so on. I will not be going out of my way to be explicit, but I thought I would warn people just in case. If any moderation of my posts is required, please PM me and I'll change them ASAP, but please do not remove them as they exist no where but on this forum, thank you.

Also, if you particularly enjoy my posts or style of writing please send me a PM lol, It'll motivate me to actually maintain this kind of thing!

[Amon-Si]

The room is brightly lit, airy. Sunlight streams in through the clean panes of a large feature window, filling the room with bright warmth, causing the marble of the floor to glow gently. The room itself is quite large with walls panelled in a rich, dark walnut. The furniture, a well used dresser with mirror, a large double bed, a wardrobe, a long bookshelf, a table with a stool and a chair and a writing desk are all carved from finely grained mahogany. The bookshelf and desk lie along one wall, the bed, dresser and wardrobe along the other. The little table with its chair and stool are set alongside the window. The ceiling is a tasteful plaster frieze depicting a common flower and vine pattern. Upon the table rests a vase of bright sunflowers, they are fresh, not yet wilting.

The mirror of the dresser does not reflect the sunlit room, but instead appears to be a window looking into another room, or even another world, a huge, granite throne room with slaves lining the walls, women on the left, and men on the right. Sitting on the throne is a creature of predatory aspect, a succubus, horned, clawed, bat winged and with a serpentine tail complete with head and venom dripping fangs, the room in the mirror is unmoving, frozen.

A small silver tea service rests next to the vase on the mahogany, the rich smell of coffee drifting from the small pot and the full porcelain cup and saucer on the tray. The room has a single occupant, a woman with dark hair, long but well manicured fingernails and large, sweeping wings akin to those of a bat. She appears to be a young woman, no older than twenty five summers, with high cheekbones, a pointed chin and large, soulful eyes of a deep brown, almost black. Her right hand is curled gently about the cup, and occasionally she raises it to her lips, taking a small sip as she looks out of the window.

The window looks out over a garden, green and lush. A fountain burbles in the middle of the profusion of healthy plants and bright flowers. A young girl, dark hair spilling from beneath a straw hat wanders the garden happily, her white lace dress shining in the warm light of the sun. A wrought iron bench is set off to one side, facing the fountain over a bed of lilies. The garden itself is enclosed within a courtyard of high walls, without any other doors, or windows. Occasionally the girl stops at the bench for a time, as if talking to someone before continuing on her way again… and again.

The winged woman on the stool sets her cup down and turns to regard the empty chair opposite her. She smiles, a pleasant expression, even if her canines are a –little- too long. Her voice is gentle, calm and warm.

“Hello sweetie. Back again?”

“Oh? Well, it’s always lovely to see you, you know that. What would you like to talk about today?”

The dark haired woman’s smile widens slightly and she perks a brow in mock disbelief.

“My childhood? Again? Didn’t you get enough of that when we were together? Well, alright… I’ll start at the beginning…”

[Amon-Si]

The be-winged woman pauses for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts before speaking.

“So, as you know, sweetie, I was born on Toril, in a land called Thay. More specifically in the largest city: Eltabbar on the shore of the biggest lake in Thay.”

She gestures to a painting on the wall, which obediently changes size and shape, the picture within becoming a map.



“We lived down near the docks, my father was a fisherman and my mother helped with selling whatever he brought in. We owned our own boat, but of course we didn’t own our house, only the Mulan were allowed to actually own property for real. We got by alright, we did pretty well for ourselves, and we had the run of two whole rooms: A shared bedroom and a kitchen and living area that we didn’t have to share with another family.”

She pauses for another sip of her coffee, looking out over the garden outside of the window

“I don’t really remember the early years, of course, most things being fuzzy at that age. I think I was happy, but maybe, when you’re that young, you don’t really know happy from sad, or whatever…”

Again she pauses, trailing off, watching the girl dance about the fountain for a few moments, her expression serious with a hint of melancholy.

“I actually spent the first seven or so years of my life in those two rooms. Hm? Why? Well, Thay is a huge centre for slavery, sweetie, it’s a legitimate business and people are certainly not above snatching a little girl off the streets and selling her on… Well, sure, it’s horrible, sweetie, but when you’re seven the world is how it is, y’know?”

“So, my parents started taking me out when I was seven, I was only allowed to go anywhere if they were both with me, but I did enjoy the trips outside. To the markets, to the docks…”

Now she smiles, a wistful smile, making her look even younger, she tucks a lock of her black hair back behind one ear and then continues.

“One trip my father got lucky and caught a lot of Thimila and they- They’re a kind of fish, sweetie, a delicacy, very, very pricy, but delicious, apparently. I didn’t get to try them for years after. Anyway, we were actually well off for a while and my mother bought me a lovely dress with Lace on it and a straw hat to cover me against the sun. Then we went out to celebrate, they took me to my first garden, it was the first time I’d really seen green things that weren’t on a plate and they scared me at first”

She chuckles throatily

“Me, scared of flowers, funny now, I know, but they were so strange and different, in the end though my curiosity won out and I actually really enjoyed myself, it’s one of the few genuinely happy memories I have from when I was young, that’s why I keep it here with me. It was soon after this that everything started to go wrong…”

[Amon-Si]

“The first thing to happen was the dreams, somewhere between nine and ten I started having dreams, the content being mostly violence and sex… Hm? Oh, no, they weren’t nightmares really… it was more sort of… well, you know those dreams where everything’s perfectly normal, but it’s scary somehow, like everything’s wrong? Yeah, they were the opposite: Horrible images, but a feeling of comfort, rightness.”

She looks down at her hands, reaches for her coffee, taking another long sip. The cup, of course, never appears to diminish, nor require refilling, but she pours a little from the pot out of habit.

“Then I started to notice that some things for me were somehow…. Duller. Fires were not as warm, but I didn’t feel the chill of winter, either. Mother nearly had a heart attack when she caught me sticking my hand into the fire, all the way up to the wrist. It was warm, uncomfortably so, but not so much that it hurt, almost like putting your hand into very warm water. These days I hardly even notice, which can be awkward sometimes.”

She smiles a little now, dipping her pale finger into her dark, steaming coffee and then licking it clean.

“This all happened over the course of a few years, but a few weeks after I turned eleven I started to notice some lumps on my back, at the shoulder blades, they ached a lot and I started sleeping on my front. By the time they got to the size of my fists, and started to darken, my parents began to panic, thinking that I had the plague. They wouldn’t let me come out with them any more… I can only imagine the terror they must have felt; one little whisper of the plague would have been enough for the people in our neighbourhood to barricade us inside our home and burn us to death to cleanse the taint.”

She pauses, watching the little girl dance about the fountain, her expression blank for a minute.

“Of course, it wasn’t the plague. When my wings came through it hurt, more than almost anything else that’s ever happened to me. I was delirious for a few days and I’ve no idea what happened, but after that I had my wings. They grew quickly and were proportional within only a couple of months. By now I think my parents were beside themselves with terror. They knew what I was, even if I didn’t.”

She slowly clenches her free hand, unable to make a proper fist due to the long nails digging into her palm.

“About two weeks after my wings had grown in properly they took me out on a little adventure… to the slave market.”

[Amon-Si]

She sighs, resting her chin on one hand and stirring her coffee with the tip of one nail. She makes no move to take another sip.

“It’s funny the things that stick in the memory, isn’t it? You’d think that I’d remember faces, names, expressions, maybe, but what stands out in my mind after all these years is the crunch of gravel under foot, the stink of bodies, urine and faeces and the grain of wood on the bench that mother sat me down on while father went into the next room to discuss something with the owner. I had no idea at the time that he was negotiating to sell me and for how much. He came out after a few minutes, took my mothers hand and told me they’d be right back and they left.”

She runs one hand back through her dark hair, staring out of the window blankly.

“I think this was the first time I’d ever really felt fear, terror, rising up from inside, taking my breath away. Somehow I knew that they weren’t going to come back for me, but it took a couple of minutes for that to dawn on me. Just as I was about to get up and try to leave the slaver my father had spoken to me came back in and grabbed me by the arm. I kicked, scratched and bit, but I was just a little girl and he was a big man. He backhanded me negligently, as you or I would swat a fly and that was that…
Hm? What do you mean why? Why what? Why would my parents sell me? Well, it could be any number of reasons, sweetie. Money, Fear… Maybe they hated me for pretending to be a girl when I was really a monster…”

Her tone turns bitter now, cold and sharp

“We could guess all day and never know, but the point is that they did it. I don’t care why anymore.”

A tear glitters on her lashes from fear re-lived, and she dashes it away with barely concealed anger.

“He tossed me into a cage with about eight other girls around my own age, maybe a touch older. I stood there, crying for maybe a full minute with them staring at me. They were poorly dressed in mismatched scraps and rags. Then they did what all slaves would do in that situation. Can you guess, sweetie?”

She perks a brow at the first answer, laughing harshly.

“No, love, group hugs are never going to feature prominently in this story, try again.”

She smiles a little at the second answer, but shakes her head.

“I wish, sweetie.”

Finally she nods.

“That’s right: They beat the shit out of me and stole my clothes.”