[10] Tale of Neshka: Merisiel

This is the backstory of my tabletop RPG character. In it, Neshka recounts her tragic past in the world of Pathfinder. Part 10: Merisiel [Intro – spoken, intimate] That woman was going to mean trouble. I knew it immediately. Of course, back then, I didn't know much about people. Elves, perhaps. But even among elves, there are different kinds. And Merisiel... [Small amused breath] Merisiel was definitely her own kind. [Music begins – playful medieval folk, lively lute and hand percussion] [Verse 1] She stood surrounded by the city guard, talking like she'd won the war. Hands were flying, chin held high, explaining why they were all wrong. Apparently, she'd tried to steal a jeweled rapier, polished bright. It belonged to some nobleman, who'd made a rather terrible fuss that day. [Spoken, dry] Parzival the Dreadful. [Pause] That was what he called himself. [Small amused breath] I met him later. He wasn't dreadful. Just vain, overfed with pride, and very fond of his rapier. [Verse 2 – more rhythmic] Merisiel insisted it was tragic, a blade, that beautiful, left in his hands. A crime against the art of weaponry, a failure, no one could understand. I could follow her reasoning. Mostly. What puzzled me was something else: How do you steal a nobleman's sword and get caught before you leave? [Spoken, amused] She was still explaining, when the guards decided, she'd said enough. They grabbed her arms. She pulled away. They reached again. She started talking even faster. [Music kicks up] I watched her for a moment. Then sighed. [Spoken] I suppose I could have walked away. [Short pause] I didn't. [Chorus – lively, mischievous] Oh, Merisiel, what have you done? A jeweled blade and nowhere to run. The guards are angry, the noble's sore, and somehow you still want to argue more! I should have left you where you stood. I knew that meeting you wouldn't be good. [Spoken, dry] I was right about that. [Verse 3] I stepped between her and the guards. I told them they should reconsider. They looked at me. Then at my eyes. Then at my hands. [Small pause] People tend to do that. I explained, a little more clearly, that taking her away was unwise. They asked me why. I gave them reasons. [Pause] Several reasons. [Music briefly drops out] They understood. [Small amused breath] Eventually. [Verse 4 – playful, warmer] The guards withdrew. The street grew quiet. Merisiel looked me up and down. For once, she didn't have an argument ready. I found that rather remarkable. Then she smiled. Not politely. Not carefully. Like the whole world was one enormous joke and she'd just discovered the punchline. [Pause] She thanked me. Then asked my name. I told her. "Neshka." She repeated it once, as if she were testing how it sounded. Then she grinned again. And just like that, we started talking. [Chorus – fuller, energetic] Oh, Merisiel, what have you done? The trouble's only just begun. One stolen blade, one narrow escape, one very bad decision I couldn't shake. I should have left you where you stood. But somehow, I standing there with you... [Small amused breath] ...felt rather good. [Bridge – spoken, intimate] We became friends. Just like that. No grand promise. No solemn oath. No mysterious prophecy. [Pause] Though, in hindsight, a warning might have been useful. [Music returns – bright medieval folk-rock] [Final Chorus – joyful, mischievous] Oh, Merisiel, the years would show just how much trouble one elf could know. A thousand roads, a thousand schemes, and far too many questionable dreams. I should have left you where you stood. [Small amused breath] But then... I wouldn't have met you. [Outro – spoken, warm] Her name was Merisiel. And I had absolutely no idea what I'd just gotten myself into. [Soft laugh] Neither, I suspect, did she.