© Copyright James Adams, "Kitty" | |  
She doesn't know her parentage, but she can guess. The silken red hair that brushes her neck and chin, and the blush-washed skin that glows with the warmth of blood suggest a human descent. But the peaked ears, cat-like eyes, and twin horns that grace her temple denote a more infernal heritage. Decades spent in the absyss only confirm the point.
She doesn't know her path, but she can search. Forged in the blood wars of her home plane, she's been given the skills to survive. But it was her clawing escape and desperate passage through the city of doors that gave her the desire to live. Alone in a new world, leaving behind both name and past, she kept her ears open and her mouth sealed. She learned many things, and she heard many rumors. One spoke of a distant city by the tempest sea ... a place where kindred dwelt openly with humans ... a place where missionaries mingled with mages ... a place where fae-kin and rovers were welcome. There, she thought, she might carve out a new life, free from the brutality of her last one.
She doesn't know her future, but she can hope. Acceptance never comes easy for one of tiefling blood, and despite the place she's found within the city, many still stare askance, fearing what lies within the depths of her ilk. But the truth is more frightening than they suspect. Behind her preternaturally keen eyes and sharp tongue lies a heart not so different from their own .... a heart capable of both compassion and cruelty, of joy and rage, of kindness and bitter hate ... two natures in one spirit. She's come to learn that the same duality dwells in the hearts of all, and if pressed, she'll offer a scathing reminder to those who seek to judge that at least her apprearance makes her less hypocritical than most. |
© Jonathon Earl Bowser, "Order-Chaos" (1995) | | 
She had not been in the tavern for very long, her strange, pupilless amber eyes keeping most of the curious away. With flaming red hair, threaded with gold that fell in one long braid to her ankles, she was striking in her beauty. An angelic face, with lush lips made for kissing and a slender, almost frail, body housed a cold, emotionless spirit. But where she came from, no one knew. What she was here to do, she told no one.
She kept to the hearth, seemingly needing the light it provided when the darkness came. She sat by the fire, staring sightlessly into the flames. She was waiting for something...or someone.... Waiting for a battle beyond mortal comprehension. It was, after all, what she had been made for. |
