Wink is a young orphan girl who lives in the sewers beneath Raam. She is short and small for her age, 15 years old. She fends for herself by begging and picking pockets. Her father brought her to Raam from Balic, and promised her that once he found her uncle, they would be set up. He was never able to make that happen…he disappeared one day when he left to get some food, leaving her alone for the past 5 years. She has virtually no memory of her mother or her real name … Wink was her fathers pet name for her.

What she does not know: her real name is Winifred “Winnie” Kellen. Her mother is an enforcer to a ruthless crime boss in Balic, and her father smuggled her out of the City for her safety.

Bio:

She watched as the feeble old Mul woman worked her way slowly through the teeming crowds, tapping the ground in front of her gingerly with her staff as she walked, narrowly avoiding being knocked down a half dozen times by the uncaring masses. Wink would normally have targeted a wealthier mark, but the pickings had been slim in the past weeks, and the insistent rumbling of her stomach made it clear to her she go for the sure thing. Besides, the clinking ceramic under the old woman’s threadbare cloak called out to Wink like a harpy’s song.

She fell into place ahead of the ancient woman and milled about slowly, trying to look as innocuous as possible. It took the woman an age to catch up to her at the pace she moved, but Wink had always felt that she stood out less coming from in front of her mark than sneaking up behind them.

Wink knelt down and picked a sharp stone from her calloused bare foot and feigned to be inspecting her soles for more intruders while she bided her time. Once the woman was in position, she went into action, zeroing in on the slight bulge at the woman’s hip. No sooner had she made contact with the coin purse, a stabbing pain in her hand had her crying out in pain. Looking down frantically, Wink noted that a silver viper had lashed out from beneath the woman’s cloak and had affixed itself to the back of her hand. Wink tried to pull back but the serpent remained steadfastly attached, its cheeks undulating as it pumped generous amounts of venom into the wound. She looked up in a panic and found herself looking directly into the milky-white eyes of the ancient Mul who, in spite of her cataracts, seemed to stare directly through Wink and into her very soul.

Wink started to stammer out an excuse, but her vision began to swim and she suddenly felt light-headed. “Wut in Hells arya doin’, yew dirty teef?” Wink blinked and saw that there was no longer a serpent connected to her hand, nor was she holding on to the coin purse of an aged half-dwarf crone. Rather, she somehow had her hand clenched tightly onto the coin purse of a black-cloaked guardsman, and the old woman was nowhere to be seen. The Ebonguard narrowed his eyes to slits and crinkled his pig-like face into a scowl. Through his gritted yellow teeth he growled, “I’ll teach yew, yew liddle karakroach,” as he reached down for the large wooden sap strapped to his side. “You’ll never st…” His voice broke off as Wink slammed her fist into his groin and ripped the coin purse from his belt. Tears began streaming down his puffy face, and he stammered in rage, “You liddle sh…” Wink hit him in the groin again for good measure and took off running through the crowd.

She heard the calls of alarm from behind her as she darted through the gawking throngs that littered the square as she made her way towards the alley. Two more black cloaks to her right announced the presence of more Ebonguards coming to the aid of their comrade. She wouldn’t be able to escape into the sewers right away – these guards would certainly know where she had gone off to and would most likely send troops down to clear the tunnels out if she did so, and innocent people always died when that happened. No. She would have to lead them on a merry chase of hunter and prey; this was going to be a long day. And so she ran.

As she sprinted down the narrow alley, she noted with worry that the pain on her hand was getting worse. Sneaking a glance at the back of her hand as she hoisted herself over a small stone wall and scrambled over to the other side, she could see fresh blood pooling out of the two puncture wounds, and the skin around the bite was swollen, throbbing, and ringed with angry red lines…

That night, down in the sewers, Wink was curled up in a ball and shivering uncontrollably. She was used to being cold, but this was different. Her hand was pure agony – both burning and freezing at the same time, and swollen to nearly twice the size it should be. And the smell…it was a stink that rose above the fetid earthy stench of the sewers. Wink wondered idly if she was dying, and as she lay there curled in a fetal position, she wondered whether she even cared if she was.

When she finally did sleep, the dreams that assailed her were unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Dramatic, dizzying fragmented visions flew into frame and broke apart with startling speed and clarity: A world, green and lush and wet and alive; screams of terror as people and cities were burned to ash; a scorched land with a terrible crimson sun; a five headed dragon standing atop a mountain of bones, all of the creature’s terrible fanged maws crying out in exultation; five gem stones, of red and green and blue and black and white, all shattering in unison; the blood red sun falling out of the sky leaving a starry night sky, which subsequently rained all of its stars out of the sky, falling like a glowing rain; the hint of a vibrant dawn on the horizon breaking the monotony of the dark nothingness; and finally the image of the ancient Mul woman she had seen on the streets looking down upon her where she lay, as dozens of serpents slithered through her robes while a golden serpent crawled impossibly out of her opened mouth. When the gilded snake completely evacuated her mouth, the old woman finally spoke, speaking in a strong, soft voice, cracked with age. “Look to the west for the Strangers three, bathed in the blood of friend and foe; Strangers hunted by ten eyes, they hold the key; the Light Made Flesh, the Forgotten Man, and the Farseer are all that remain of those that who would herald in the new dawn. Their quest is total. It is all that matters in the world. A new day is coming, the tyranny of darkness is coming to an end, and you must be prepared; On the day with two dawns you will know these words are true, and you will know then, that they are coming. The New Dawn is Nigh!” The woman’s white eyes glowed with unearthly passion as she spoke. And then, darkness.

Wink awoke with a start and laid there curled up in a ball for a long while, the only sound was the metronomic plinking of water that dripped from the ceiling to the hard cobbles beneath her. When she was finally convinced that she had not died in the night, Wink slowly sat up and realized that she not only felt better, she felt stronger and somehow more…connected? It was hard to put her finger on the sensation, but she felt like she was part of a bigger whole; like there was somehow more to her.

She looked down at the back of her hand and could still see the small puncture wounds there, but all healed up, with no sign of the raging infection that had tortured her throughout the night. The wounds were two perfect silver circles, resembling a tattoo of stars or eyes. Wink idly rubbed her thumb over them, marveling at the smoothness of the skin around the wound, when a motion caught her eye. She reached her hand quickly to her waist and produced the sharpened thighbone she used as a dagger, and she whirled to face the movement. There, sitting a few scant feet away was a small silver serpent, barely a foot long, but a perfect micro facsimile of the snake that had bit her hand the day before. Wink brandished her makeshift blade at the serpent menacingly. “Shoo, Scoot!” she hissed, to which the serpent replied with a bored flick of its forked tongue, its two perfect silver eyes regarding her with intense curiosity.

• The Mighty and Omnipotent Tectuktitlay, Father of Life and Master of the Two Moons claims to be a living god
• Templars in Draj are known as Moon Priests
• The fertile soil surrounding Draj allows it to grow many crops, including grain for bread and hemp, which makes for good ropes
• Draj is almost constantly at war, raiding villages and even other city states for captives to be sacrificed on the steps of Tectuktitlay’s pyramid, overlooking the gladiatorial arena
• Knowledge of history is expressly forbidden by Tectuktitlay, nothing beyond mortal memory is really known about the past of this city
• Draji warriors decorate themselves with the skins of various beasts and animals, and carry obsidian-edged clubs called Macuahuitl as well as short harpoons
• Criminals in Draj receive only one sentence: death, either by execution or by caging (a very slow death by exposure).
• Crime, especially theft is so looked down upon by Draji culture that most citizens would rather sell themselves into slavery than steal.
• Instead of a wall, the entrance to the city state is surrounded by expansive mud flats, which provide plenty of protection from invaders.

Rumor: Draj has vast storehouses of grains and hemp that it keeps hidden from everybody in order to drive up their prices when trading with other city states.