Xamaes spent her day life at home with her mother Shadlock, a once hunter of all creatures that bear hides of fine leather. From the time she was six her mother threw a spear in her hand and began teaching her how to use it, she was always told by her mother that there were lots of bad things out there that she needed to protect herself from. Xamaes took no interest in her mothers teachings, she would much rather be outside playing with her friends in the street. They were not rich, and they were not poor, her mother told her that she longed for the thrill of the hunt once more, but gave it up the day her father stole her heart.

Her mothers heart was not the only thing her father stole, when Xamaes was seven her father took her down near the Hospice of the Morning Light, it was there that she first found out what her father did for a living. He showed her the finer art of lifting a pouch from another, particularly a wealthy patrician. She didn't realize then that there was anything wrong with what he was doing, she thought it was just a game. She watched as her father took pouch after pouch after pouch, all the time emptying them into a large sack he was carrying and then merely discarding it onto the side of the road. After several minutes of watching him take the pouches with a subtle ease, he placed a boison dagger in her hand, and pointed to a nearby patrician that was conversing with a scholar nearby. He told her to go get the patricians pouch just like she had seen him do it. She looked at the boison dagger she now held, it was heavy for her, and the hilt was made of a cold metal that didn't shine under the light of the bright sun above. She could see her reflection in the dark boison blade of the dagger, she spent a moment looking at how dully the metal reflected her face, then looked over at the patrician her father had pointed to. He was short and quite wide, a man who obviously eats in great quantities, she gazed at the tanned leather strap of the pouch she was supposed to get, looked at the dagger again, and slowly approached the man. She looked up at the back of his head, he was talking to the scholar and didn't seem to notice her approach, she swallowed and as best she could she lifted the strap up a bit so she could cut it. But all did not go to plan, she tugged too hard on the strap, and the patrician turned around promptly. With a sharp and sudden pain to the left side of her face, she was knocked back a few feet and left laying on the cobblestone avenue outside the hospice, the dagger she held flew from her hand and landed near her fathers feet. He bent over and picked it up, anger filled his eyes, he tore off the black hooded cloak he was wearing and threw it over to Xamaes, then in one quick movement he lunged at the patrician, stabbing the dagger deep into his back. A scream of pain, then the patrician fell to the ground, the constables were quick to realize what had happened, they started beating on Xamaes' father with no remorse, once he was unconscious they dragged him away...

Three days later, the stool was kicked from under his feet, and in a brief instance Centrozity was dead. Hung for the murder of a patrician. Xamaes' mother Shadlock was allowed to keep one thing that the man she married owned, the rest would be used to repay the dead patricians family, without stopping to think even for a moment, she took his cloak. He had always said to her, "If anything happens to me, anything at all, I want you to take my cloak and travel away from this place." And she did, later that night Shadlock left their inn room at the toga, though she didn't take the cloak, she went up to the forest north of the city and dug her spear into the ground, then she impaled herself upon it's sharpened blade. Her body was found in the morning by a group of spearmen out hunting for hides, they recognized her as they once used to hunt with her, one of them, a close friend of Shadlocks, went back to her inn room and there found Xamaes. He took her to his small shack out in the northern forests, and looked after her.

Fourteen years later, Xamaes had long ditched her adopting parent and had been living off the money she made hunting for leather bearing animals. She never needed much money though, as she made her own clothes and only ever bought food, so she never spent allot of time hunting, and did it only when she was running short on cash. She would spend the rest of her time wandering the streets of Iridine, never doing much other than quickly stopping for a drink of posca at a tavern. It was at such a time, when she was heading a tavern north of the Toga, run by a man named Pego. It wasn't a fancy joint, but they had posca, and there was never much of a crowd. On her way there, she overheard some people talking of a festival in a far away place known as Monlon. She had been longing to leave Iridine for as long as she could remember, and this now gave her an excuse to do so. So she headed back to the shack where she lives, took her only two belongings in the world, her fathers hooded cloak and her mothers cavalry spear, and she set off for Monlon, quite a ways away.

It wasn't too long before she arrived in Vetallun, she wasn't planning on stopping as there was still plenty of light left in the day, but she was approached by a man named Roq, who had distaste with the way she dressed. There were others with the same ideas soon on the scene, and before she could escape they had started the onslaught. Four attacking one, she didn't last long, they last thing she saw was the face of the man who goes by the name of Roq. She awoke in what appeared to be an inn room, she couldn't see very well, but could feel that she had been bound with manacles and there was a sharp pain in her left arm. It wasn't until several days later, when the door to the room finally opened, a few hours more and she would of starved to death then and there. Looking at her arm quickly, she could see the bone had penetrated the flesh, and there was blood all over the floor where she lay. Two people entered the room, only one mattered to Xamaes, it was Roq, the first thing he said, "Here she is, the thief Xamaes."

They say Xamaes died that day in Vetallun, killed by the undefined hatred towards her for wearing her fathers cloak. But her body lives on, though no longer controlled by Xamaes, the simple part-time hunter who cared for nothing buy a quiet life away from people, now her body is the hooded cloak the others tried to destroy, the hooded cloak that was her father, and now is her.

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