Sagas of the Starlit Age

Anarchy in Beran

So here we are on the open road. We escaped a city before it could devour us and are currently heading west because somebody thinks that there is information that way. If you were to ask me I think we’re just running, I mean what else is there to do? I decided to collect my thoughts by starting this little pet project of mine and trying to keep some sort of record. Let me start from the beginning, or as close to it as I can come. My name is Liza Netzoni, yes my great grandfather was that guy but really who cares.
            Pop was a hard man who spent a little too much time hugging a needle while ma was a prostitute who spent a little too much time doing a whole different type of hugging. If you can possibly imagine my childhood wasn’t exactly walking in the sun. when I hit 10 my mom went out for a job and never came back and left me with pop who spent a bunch of his time hitting me, and there’s something poetic about that if you ask me. Didn’t take long for us to need a bit of extra cash, and my pop decided nobody is suspicious of a little go so I loaded up my bag with a bit of illicit materials and we started our own family business. Pop would make the deals and I would do the distribution. Everything was alright for a few years, at least until just after I hit 15 when I came down stairs and found my pop laying on the kitchen floor devoid of life and humiliatingly hanging out in a pile of his own drool. That was that, I was alone.

            What was a girl to do, Wait around for the cops to figure out what happened…maybe throw me in the system and put me In a home where they could “fix” me? Yeah I don’t think so. So instead I ran, found myself sitting around in back alley ways and under bridges but I found something else while I was out there too, the Topaz. It’s like meth only instead of just getting you high it introduces you to the geomantic forces of the world. I became powerful and learned to manipulate those forces. Without the help of any school nerds I taught myself the art.

            See the problem with needing an illicit substance like Topaz is that it’s hard to get and it costs a fair bit of scratch. So I needed the money and contacted an old friend of my pops who gave me a job doing a bit of distribution, which at this point I was pretty good at. Things were good then, at least I thought so. I had a little apartment on the north side of Beran and was making enough money for hobbies and habits. There isn’t much use to this part of the story, at least for now, so let me jump ahead about 5 years when I was assigned a job. It was supposed to be easy. Meet the contact, make the trade, head home. Kind of shit I’d done literally a thousand times. I got to the place and my “Boss” was there too, which really should have told me something was wrong, but let’s be honest When you spend half your time fucked up your brain doesn’t work like it use too. Turns out the client wasn’t trying to buy the product I brought, he was trying to buy me and really I didn’t like that Idea too much. I called my power and burned all of them. I realized at this moment that we don’t control the power we conjure, it controls us and we just try to stack the odds in our favor. The only problem is that while I was having these earth shattering revelations it turns out I was actually just lying in a pool of my own drool somewhere and I don’t remember a fucking thing until I woke up in a jail cell awaiting arraignment.
            Judge was a bit of a dickhead and even though I didn’t get the murder charges because of the circumstance, they still stuck me with manslaughter and gave me five years in lock up for my troubles. Once again the system failed me, a victim of circumstance. First few months I went through heavy rehabilitation programs to kick me of my bad habits and after that it’s problem another one of those stories I’ll have to save for later. Suffice it to say I got out eventually, a year early with good behavior (The Idiots.) I didn’t have money, I didn’t have help and I didn’t know what I was going to do so instead I turned to my magic. I used the skills I had learned over my life to take new secrets from those stuck up school mages. They hated me for it but what could they do from their libraries? All it ever took was one new spell to the right person and I could afford to eat for the month, and those school idiots thought their secured servers would keep me out. Lucky for them, or rather for me, while I was in the lock up and I had nothing to do and learned a bit too much about technology, from coding to engineering and I’m good at everything I try, they say it’s a feature of my bloodline.

            This went on for a year before a giant labyrinth appeared in my city and now here I am on the road, running from problems I don’t even know, looking for information where there probably is none and doing the best I can not to just put my headphones in a shut the world out. A deaf girl who looks to the sky a little too much, a professional monster hunter who has a hard on for his material possessions, a rock faced skate boarder with a bit of a Zen problem, a fucking school mage, a random collection of college kids and day laborers, and me, waiting to see the lines of probability so maybe I can make some sense out of all this shit when in the end it probably doesn’t even matter anyways. It’s the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine.




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