April 3rd

First off HAPPY BIRTHDAY KELLEN!

Here we are again, without the script increasing by even a word. I worked at Universal, I worked on other stuff at home, and I went to D&D where we had a player versus player fight that we didn't even get close to finishing. We'll be back killing each other all over next week. For my 750 today I decided I might try to write up the background for my D&D character. Her name is Riley.

You think you're life is tough? You think you've had it hard? You think your existence is cursed? Try being the daughter of the Elven Queen and King; and born a half-elf. Yep, that's right folks, my mother, the Elven Queen, slept around. Not only that, but she got caught in the worst way; my birth. Before you ask, I don't know my father. The only things he gave me besides life were psychic abilities and a strange spear shaped birthmark. I never asked about him, my mother never said anything, and he never came forward to claim me. Not that I can blame him, the King almost had me beheaded, my father would surely have been killed. The worst thing was that my mother had no idea that I wasn't going to be the King's child. They paraded around, gathered gifts, had a lovely room all made up for their princess and within two seconds I ruined everything. The King would have killed me then and there, but my mother begged him not to. Despite her very obvious infidelities, the King loved my mother. Of course that didn't mean that he could face the public humiliation of having an unfaithful wife.

I spent the early part of my life completely locked away from the outside world. As far as the Elven Kingdom was concerned I was born sickly and had to be confined to my bed. The only people I saw for the first fourteen years of my life were my mother, the serving girl (a halfling named Katy), and the elven captain (a fighter named Zanroar)that the King sent to train me. It was Zanroar that discovered I had psychic abilities and trained me to use them to augment my fighting. He trained me with every weapon, but my favorite was always the great axe. For my fifteenth birthday the King got me a great axe of my own. It was truly a thing of beauty. He figured that since I wouldn't be the courtly princess I could be useful in tournaments, and I was. Dressed up in enough armor people didn't even know I was a girl. No one ever suspected that the sickly Elven Princess Cairath and the Elven King's champion Riley were the same person, and it got me out of the castle. It was the only time the King ever took an interest or even spoke to me really.

Life certainly wasn't what I would have wanted it to be, but I had a decent existence. That all changed shortly after I turned 17. My mother died suddenly of a fever and it was a simple thing for the King to say that the sickly Cairath had also perished. I thought that perhaps that meant I would continue as only the King's Champion, that while my fighting would never win his love, it had at least earned his respect. I was wrong. My mother and the empty casket containing Cairath had been laid to rest for less then an hour when the King came to my chambers. He informed me that I had until dawn the next morning to leave the kingdom, and I was to never return. He gave me a letter that I wasn't to open until I left and bid me take the great axe, for he would never allow one of his warriors to wield something that had been soiled by a halfbreed like me. I left within the hour.

You're probably wondering what was in the letter. I don't know. I've never opened it. I carry it with me everywhere, but I've never had an interest in reading it. There is nothing the King could say to me to make up for what my life became over the next ten years. The only thing I had to my name when I left the kingdom were the cloths on my back, the great axe, and the letter. I had no money, no food, no transport, nothing. So I made a living the only way I knew how, but fighting. I kept the name Riley, for when a name was absolutely necessary, but most of the time I gave no name. I became a gladiator and fought for my supper every night. At first I hid who I was behind armor, but then I learned that I fought better without it, and that other gladiators might hesitate more fighting a woman. For ten long years I fought men and beasts for the entertainment of the masses, and I never lost a fight.

I thought I would spend my entire life in the arena, but about three years ago something changed. Zanroar, my trainer from all those years ago, found me. He pulled me from the arena and convinced me that my true calling was that of a hero. That I could fight not just for entertainment, but for what was good in the world. That I could fight to protect others. I'll admit that the idea didn't interest me much at first. If there was one thing the arena had taught me it was that trust and alliances will always be broken, and I wasn't too keen to join a band of heroes. But I'd also learned that death was just around the corner for all of us, and that made me realize I should do what I could. At first I just took on quests I could complete myself, and that worked well. I didn't have to rely on anyone else, it paid better than the arena, and I got to help people (which I discovered I quite liked). Word of my deeds started to spread and soon I had more quests than I could handle. Still I went at it alone. That was until the mayor called me in and bundled me up with this lot. I don't trust them, but they seem to be working well enough towards the goal, so I'll stick with them for now. Only fate knows what tomorrow will bring, but whatever it is I'm ready to face it.