Dust & Blood
Human Bard (Veiled Alliance)
Of average height and middling weight, dark curly hair above solemn dark eyes, olive skin and a sharp hooked nose, Ja’Amun doesn’t immediately capture one’s attention, that is of course, until he opens his mouth. Then he will regale you with the all of the latest theories and conspiracies; gossips and rumors; Philosophy, art, music, dance, or perhaps games are more to your liking? You’ll never find a more enthusiastic backgammon player, nor a more engaging monologist. Ja’Amun is a man born before his time, or perhaps too late, for he is a Renaissance Man, a Bon Viviant, an explorer, a scholar, an artist, and a master of culinary arts.
Having spent time in the desert, and in the mountains, and in the oasis, and finally in Tyr Ja’Amun has flavored his dress with oddments and tidbits from his past. His robes and head coverings are from Urik, where he was raised. The boiled leather and bonemail shirt was sewn in the foothills of the Ringing Mountains to the West. The longbow he carries is made of horn, and was a gift of a magii from a passing elven caravan near Xeno. His obsidian longsword was carved in Fort Iron, payment for services rendered. His boot he made himself, with the skin of a drake that he shot in the Great Alluvial Sand Wastes as he journeyed to his final destination, an homage to his father Ra’Amun the cobbler.
Drawn to Tyr by the Veiled Alliance as the Sorcerer-King was being dragged from his throne, Ja’Amun, the Desert Bard, the Philosopher Rouge, the Wandering Star wants to settle down to help build a new society, tied together by a new law. For it has been foretold that as the Green Age passed into the annals of history, so too shall the Desert Age come to an end.
Ja’Amun was born the youngest son of a cobbler, Ra’Amun, in the City of Lions, Urik, capital of the Sorcerer-King Hamanu the so-called “King of the World, King of the Mountains, King of the Plains.” Lost amongst the sprawling metropolis that is Urik, Ja’Amun lived a quiet and peaceful life apprenticing for his father by day, and reading and performing plays with his elder sister for his parents in the evening.
Tragedy struck Ja’Amun’s family in his thirteenth year. His older sister Aludra, who served coffee at a small shop owned by relatives, was accosted on her way home; whereupon she was beaten and raped, and left for dead. By happenstance Ja’Amun had been sent on an errand by his father to his uncle’s shop, and so discovered Aludra in an alley laying in a shallow pool of blood, unconscious, with three of her teeth knocked out, and her clothes torn to shreds strewn about her. He ran to her side, but when Aludra wouldn’t awaken despite his desperate plea, Ja’Amun sprints to the nearest bazaar and flags down a city watchman. By the time they arrive back in the alley, it is too late, Aludra had died.
The magistrates of Hamanu’s bureaucracy took little notice of the death of Aludra. Charges were never brought, and no investigation into the rape and murder was conducted. People in the neighborhood suspected, and Ja’Amun’s uncle Ka’im was convinced, that it was Mus’ad was the son of a very wealthy and respected merchant Khas’ad who had done the villainy, yet none would dare speak of it aloud for fear of reprisal. Mus’ad was seen flirting with Aludra earlier that day, and had been slapped when he had gotten to familiar with the virginal Aludra. Mus’ad stalked off in a quiet rage, and was not seen again until early the next morning claiming to have gone home and straight to bed.
Unfortunately for Ja’Amun, Mus’ad could not be touched. He was accompanied at all times and slept in a guarded compound. For Ja’Amun there was little sleep. He lay awake at night haunted by the specter of his sister’s grisly murder, and at the callousness of the magistrates in their disregard. So one night, to chase the nightmares away, Ja’Amun climbed out onto the roof tops and made his way across the city to the gardens of Magistrate Rashid. It was there he slit his first throat and so gained the attention of the Guild of Shadows. From then on his life was on the roof tops and in the alleys and in the shadows of Urik, honing his skills in the arts of assassination so as to bring low those who feign to dispense justice in the name of the weak and the poor.
At 18 he heard of a great uprising in Tyr and knew his destiny was pulling him towards the distant city. He had little when he left Urik on his quest, a few survival days, a dagger, and a name of contact amongst the Veiled Alliance in Tyr…and hope. Precious as water under the vicious Athasian sun.