Name: Zasz the Magnificent
Race: Pseudo-faerie pseudodragon
Personality: Childish, blissfully ignorant, mischievous, playful, cat-like. You get the idea.
Background: Shady. No, seriously, I "grew up" in a forest.
(also serving as my character's introduction)
[This event took place about five months before the letters regarding Kersey arrived]
In a long-reaching arm of the Red Forest, on the outskirts of Doerstadt, something bobbed invisibly between the trees. This region was holy ground…blessed by the Lady Lystra in the olden days and said to be haunted by the common folk.
But such was not enough to dissuade two teenage boys from entering the forest one sunny summer afternoon. The taller boy, Rufus, had just recently turned sixteen and had been gifted with a bow and quiver of arrows by his father. His friend, Bracken, had warily agreed to help Rufus test out his new “toy” in the forests beyond the city walls. Ignoring their parents’ warnings that hunting for sport was prohibited in this region, they sought something—anything—to shoot in the forest.
But they didn’t see me. It happened that I was lazily weaving through the forest when I spied these two boys. Curious, I followed them and after a short while, their purpose became obvious from their discussion. I was infuriated. I flew quietly past them and pronounced, while still invisible, in a loud commanding voice “GO NO FURTHER! THIS IS SACRED GROUND AND HUNTING IS PROHIBITED!” I must say I was rather impressed with the depth and volume of voice I created, despite my petite size. My warning had a mixed effect: Rufus seemed to be infuriated that someone or something was trying to interrupt his adventure, and Bracken more wisely became unnerved. He tried to convince Rufus to retreat and come back another day or go to a different region or maybe just try out his bow on a still target at home, but to no avail. Losing patience with Rufus, Bracken retreated from the forest and returned home, leaving Rufus fuming now at both the warning and his friend’s cowardice.
With mutterings of “I’ll show him” and “stupid forest”, Rufus proceeded deeper into the forest. I tried to deter him further, by imitating some of the larger animals, by making mysterious ghostly sounds, and by making small trees sway. There was no wind. At one point, I even curled up in a ball and placed myself in his path. Not being able to see me, he tripped over me and cursed, but determinedly continued on. What more could I do?
After some while, Rufus found a target. A young fawn was drinking water from a trickling creek and was blissfully unaware of Rufus. He slowly and quietly raised his bow, nocked an arrow, and took aim. I couldn’t stand it. I had to do something. And so I did…I suddenly appeared barely six inches from his face. Startled, he dropped the arrow and slammed me with his right hand as he stumbled backward. The fawn heard the commotion and sprinted away into the forest. I, unfortunately, didn’t fare so well. I was hurtled by the blow against a tree’s trunk and was stunned. Rufus recovered quicker, and grabbing his bow, decided that I was good enough as a target. At point blank, he shot an arrow through my abdomen, and what was worse, managed to pin me to the tree trunk. Out of ideas, I fought the pain and fogginess that clouded my brain and played dead. Peeking as Rufus turned away, I glimpsed a smug expression on his face as he wandered back the way he had come through the forest.
And so it was that another teenage boy, one with a very different outlook on forest life, found me several hours later, and observing that I was still alive, offered to help heal me and take me home for recuperation. I murmured my assent, and he freed my from my arrow prison and did something—I’m not sure what exactly—and my pain lessened. The boy kept to his word and continued to heal me over the next several days during which I came to know both him and his family. The boy’s name was Narsereg.