Search by property
This page provides a simple browsing interface for finding entities described by a property and a named value. Other available search interfaces include the page property search, and the ask query builder.
List of results
- Itzal Culler + (Being the eighth of eigth children is some … Being the eighth of eigth children is something of an achivement. It signals the end of an age, the definite decision of a mother that she is quite done with bearing children into the world. And the distinct impression of being unwanted, of being that one extra bite of the cake soon made to regret by an uppity stomach. Itzal's childhood was not one surrounded by motherly warmth, but rather by the rough upbringing expected from older siblings, various uncles and aunts, and the harsh words of a resentful progenitor. Itzal wasn't alone in this situation, however. While having been born so shortly after the seventh was most likely one of the reasons why his mother chose to never have children again (and keep that oath till death came for her), it also gave him a sibling of his age to share much of his experiences with. That sibling was Mae, his older sister, and she proved a lifeline of sanity, madness, peace and trouble that he could never have done without. It should come as no surprise then that he developped a similar way to avoid trouble, and tasks. Indeed, he swiftly became known to vanish as soon as work needed to be done, and prove so difficult to find that doing it themselves was usually less work for his family than to find the youngest Culler. While his skill at hiding would eventually force him to perform particular jobs, it also granted him more free time than most. That free time, he would spend listening to the various musicians of the city, listening to reciting poets or sneaking into the theater to witness the latest plays. It changed him, those outings of his, and soon he was making his own music and writing his own poetry... with various results. It's not that he was bad at it, though he had much to learn. It's that he found entirely too much amusement mocking his audience as impressing it, making fools of nobles that might have proven wealthy patrons with his wit and sharp sense of humour. The life of a courtier held no interest for him, yet if not that, what? The answer came when he was seventeen. One day, he was simply... gone. No word, no warning, just gone. Off to travel the world, it was assumed, when he didn't return for days, and then weeks. Gone, or dead. It hardly mattered for anyone but those closest to him. Time passed, till five years had come and gone. The King had fallen to his restless sleep, woken up again, Arx had suffered an invasion and siege and now prepared for another battle, High Lords and Ladies had come and gone, and Itzal returned as if nothing had happened. Giving various tales, each grander and more impossible than the last, he never gave a straight answer as to where he had gone, or why he had left. Yet he has returned, and now seems happy to have returned to the Lowers of his youth... and resume his various other activities.. and resume his various other activities.)
