Information

Belxari

The Reborn Feli
Owner: Pickles

Age: 3 years, 7 months, 3 weeks

Born: September 12th, 2020

Adopted: 3 years, 7 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: September 12th, 2020

Statistics

• Level: 100
   
• Strength: 13
   
• Defense: 12
   
• Speed: 17
   
• Health: 250
   
• HP: 235/250
   
• Intelligence: 3
   
• Books Read: 3
• Food Eaten: 5
• Job: Unemployed

Belxari never learned the true story behind how the Fourth Act had come about having the tiefling girl among their number. She had asked the various members of the troupe where they had found her, and always they gave the same answer.

Well, it was the same answer in that it was never, ever the same answer. Sometimes she was at the center of a fruit, plucked from a lone tree along the side of the road. Other times she had toddled in on her own, an infant wearing only a diaper and somehow capable of walking and spitting fire from her fingertips. Sometimes she was handed to them by a witch. Merric, one of her mentors, told her once that he had accidentally stolen her from a bird man.

In the end, she didn’t really care what the truth was. The fact of the matter was that she was an orphan, raised by a roving band of thieving actors. From there, she would eventually work her way up to godhood. And even still, she did not seek out the truth. She suspected that it would be rather upsetting in the end.

But at the time, when she had asked the various adults in her life where she had come from, they had taken great pains to create fanciful stories for her. It had meant a lot to her that they would do that, and so when she had felt lonely or unloved, she would seek one of them out and question them. It made her feel loved.

Her best friend growing up was a half-orc named Sah. Her father was a thieving bard named Sam, a human who excelled at being annoying more than he did at either thieving or his music. Her mother was an orc chieftain named Grah, an intimidating woman who had no love for the world. She greatly appreciated that Sah had become quite skilled in the art of cooking, but her primary concern was that she become the world’s greatest murder princess. As far as Belxari was concerned, Sah was taking great strides in that direction. When they encountered bandits who would cause them problems, Sah was often on the front lines alongside her mother, cleaving limb from limb using her great axe.

For Belxari’s part, she was skilled in more subtle things, using her words to convince people to give her what she wanted. It’s just that sometimes those words contained magic, and the thing her enemies were convinced to do was die. Not that murder was usually her first choice; sometimes circumstances just didn’t leave her any other options.

Her magical mentor was Sylmore, the troupe’s leader. A half-elf with an enormous amount of cunning and an even larger amount of charisma, he was a highly pessimistic man when it came to those who had the power and wealth in the world. It was why he spent most of this time planning ways to redistribute the wealth held by those rich and powerful people. Admittedly, the troupe was usually who received the generosity of the nobles, but there were an awful lot of mouths to feed.

She and Sylmore tended to butt heads more often than not. They both had a similar talent with people, and their magic came from the telling of stories and playing of music. As the most skilled of the bards in the troupe, it had been left to him to teach her to control the natural magic she possessed. Unfortunately, they had different ideas about how to go about the tasks ahead of them. Though they didn’t particularly like each other, they held respect for each other, albeit a grudging one.

Her second mentor was the human, Merric, a thief of great renown who had somehow been recruited by Sylmore before she had been born. While Sylmore was a skilled thief, Merric was brilliant, and he passed along much of his knowledge to her. Something of a prodigy, she mastered the skills he taught her, and became an instrumental part of the troupe’s thieves.

But still she felt alone. She never quite fit in properly with the troupe, who was itself a rotating set of cast and crew. A human calling himself Caius appeared to her in her dreams, offering her the opportunity to know her parents, if only she would meet with him. Loneliness and desperation fueled her, and she did meet him.

Luckily, suspicion and concern fueled Sah, who noticed her sneaking off; and so too Sylmore and Grah spotted the half-orc as she left. The man, a portly fellow wearing a raven skull mask, was a follower of Asmodeus, the missing king of hell. He was attempting to revive his master, using the body of the tiefling girl as his new host. Luckily, Sah, Sylmore, and Grah appeared in a timely fashion, helping Belxari and fleeing the site as it burned to the ground. The group was injured in their escape, but none so much as Belxari, scarred both physically and emotionally by the terror that the man now held for her.

Life continued. The troupe had several different methods of earning money that they cycled through. Sometimes it was as simple as having pickpockets placed in a crowd, while other schemes involved convincing their targets to let them into their home so their security could be examined and thus evaded. Belxari was more often called on for the latter, both because of her talent with people and because crowds generally weren’t fond of tieflings. That suited her fine. She was often treated incredibly well by the nobles she was meant to fawn over, treated to good food and polite manners and the occasional gift, and she wore fine clothing and jewelry.

During one such mission, however, Sylmore let his emotions get in the way of doing the job. He hired a local cutpurse, a boy around Belxari’s age, to help her with the latter part of her work with a noble couple. She didn’t trust him for a number of reasons, the least of which being his inexperience with the sort of breaking and entering they would be doing, but Sylmore was adamant and would not listen. Begrudgingly, Belxari took the boy with her.

It ended in disaster. The boy triggered a secret, magical alarm, alerting the couple to their presence. He then chose to engage the couple in combat rather than flee, as would have been the smart thing to do. The boy killed the man and his wife. The job was horribly botched. It was meant to be a simple break in and robbery, ultimately a reasonably low profile job; the boy had just escalated it to two murders.

And Belxari had really liked the couple. Themselves tieflings, she had been able to connect with them on a level that she had not connected with those of other races, ostracized because somewhere in the history of her bloodline, someone made a bad choice involving a demon. And they had loved her, albeit by design. Their own daughter would have been her age, and so for a time, the two parties had used each other to pretend to be a happy family.

Belxari used the boy’s own sword to behead him where he stood.

She laid the bodies out as a form of apology to the couple, then emptied the safe of all but one item — the Scepter of Azbaz, a jewel-encrusted rod that Sylmore had been hunting for years. She returned to the troupe in secret, finding her friend and telling her what had happened. The two agreed on a course of action, packed their things, and left the troupe together.

Sah had received a small package that had contained the information that her father had died while attempting to undo a curse that had been placed on her. A penny whistle had been sent along with the letter, apparently used to locate the items needed in order to appease the witch who cast the curse. Belxari’s focus shifted to that, helping her friend with her problem.

Problems old and new arose for Belxari during the years that followed. The pair found allies and enemies alike. She accidentally became the champion of a goddess who, when Belxari was killed by a vampire, rescued her at the cost of her soul. In addition to being a strange, new kind of vampire, they made enemies of the empresses of the country, a dragon who was trying to become the next Tiamat, and Caius made his return. He no longer hunted her specifically, but rather the items they sought for Sah’s curse.

One by one, the enemies were dealt with, including Caius, who had to be killed three times before he remained dead, hopefully for good. Over all this, Belxari and her allies prevailed. But in the end, she was not satisfied. A creature of the goddess was all that kept her soul bound to her body, and it was feeding on her. It would eventually consume her utterly, and that was not what Belxari wanted. So, using her incredible magic, honed and strengthened on her adventures, she confronted the goddess and severed the bonds between them.

But she would not end there, she decided. Using the power of a creation of Acererak, she did not die, but instead ascended. To the goddess’ surprise and ire, Belxari became, herself, a goddess. In the fallout of their meeting, the moon was cracked, and the goddess nearly lost control of one of her domains. Belxari was content, however, to have simply survived and proven herself. She returned her stolen domain, intending to find her own rather than steal someone else’s.

There were things to do now. She had mistakes that needed fixing, relationships that needed mending, and projects that needed doing. She and Sah ultimately fell away from each other, though they were still friends. Her relationship with Sylmore improved drastically through their own efforts and of those of his family — and a few of Belxari’s new coworkers. Her newest friend, a silvery dragon named Chrysa, was set to become the next Bahamut, and there was a lot to be done about that as well. She worked tirelessly to aide the mortals that depended so on the gods, but were ultimately ignored more than aided.

After some faltering, she found her domain. The domain of bonds, of committing to your allies and friends, cherishing the relationships you form, severing those you are hurt by.

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