Takvor Demirdjian

Takvor is an amateur armorer from a tribe of humans of far distant Belore, beyond the far-west of the misty and fabled Shenea. Takvor, a devoted follower of Khat, has traveled the lands from beyond Vaanth to find skill and learn his trade. Finally coming to find expertise among the dwarves of Rhegrheimm, Takvor grew under their tutelage. Wishing to put these new skills to use Takvor sought the battlefront near Dintedgel, where his skill was both needed and given space to grow. It was on this battle front that Takvor would meet Alan Wheat and his fellow infantry scout Finan.

Takvor would subsequently be joined this duo of acquaintances at their invitation during the Aefgeol Feast Week at Kelenor. Their crowded common room visit to the Heyfield Inn would see them joined at their table by Dancing Ragdoll and Merida, two recent visitors to Kelenor. Circumstance would see the five of them tangled into a variety of adventures.

Takvor is notorious for keeping a journal of his adventures, though they seem to be quiet misguided from what has really happened.

Takvor would, often through misunderstanding and passion, guide the Estovar's Free Company to many an adventure. Late in their adventures in Hargravia, with Gadja and Takvor guiding them to the binding stone of Berham, they would encounter the Dungeon: Swipe out from Ahesblittr. Takvor, while healing his companions with the blessings of the goddess, would be overcome by humanoid abominations and would fall. His party would take him forth from the dungeon, and at their arrival back to Caligos would find a white raven, a small, fiery, colorful bird, and a strange mountain cat looking on.

> "When the party emerges from Swipe they will be accosted by the grating cry of a raven.  Near them, with Takvor's body in tow the white raven will light on a log, and cackle loudly until a small red munia, a bright red and orange finch with white spots and an exotically long tail will answer with soft trilling titter and will light near the white raven, opposite it in terms of the body.  The will ramble for moments until a small wild cat, grey and white with black stripes on its legs and a wild decoration of red and brown swirls and circles on its back creeps from the bush, dropping from its mouth a very dead but horribly twisted looking, filthy reptile.  The cat comes to sit before the body on the ground as the bird's grow utterly silent.  Its peculiarly wide-set heterochromia eyes examine each of them as it turns its broad nosed face to look at the party."
>
>

At Gadja's prompting, and to Tyrion's consternation, they would allow the cat to haul the funeralized figure off into the wood. Takvor fell, as best as anyone can tell, relatively speaking, sometime in Ghetn, around Agelday the 12th, 4751 Dorianian Estimate.
Sometime, somewhere else the following would occur, unseen by all:

> "A sound echoes, a voice, strong, startling, melodic, feminine.
>
>
> You hear and insistent woman's voice say, "Over here!  Come."
>
>
> Then a man's voice shouts, "There, there it is!"
>
>
> "Mine!" a preening, guttural voice says, "a deal was struck,"
>
>
> An inhuman voice screams in utter horror."
>
>
> You awaken in a place of half-light.  A beautiful pond, laying on stones still warm with the days light and a soft cool breeze plays over your hair.  You have no idea what hair is, and part of your mind seems to think that is very funny.
>
>
> The sky is starting to fill with stars, millions, everywhere.  The heat of the day is gone, and the cool of the evening has yet to come, it is perfect, beautiful, anticipatory, and you think these things, but you don't even seem to grasp their meaning.  Its as if you've had too much to drink.  And you think to yourself, "Why would drinking something make it hard to remember?"  Then, you find you cannot remember what you were trying to remember to even consider it, and get up from the warm, moss covered stone and are surprised you have yet to notice the lovely woman relaxing on a bluff nearby, feet dangling, considering you with a curious, mysterious half-smile.  Then you wonder to yourself, "What is a woman?"
>
>
> You briefly feel sad, because it seems like someone should chastise you for such a question, or imply that you most certainly don't know what a woman is, as if that were a detriment to you, and you cannot explain who that would be, nor why it would make you sad to miss such maltreatment.
>
>
> It startles you to realize the woman, crooked half smile, tilted head, soft white hair has many of the features of a feline.  With some effort you remember what a feline is supposed to look like, you ponder on 'felineness' for a moment before barking a laugh.  The woman smirks, lifting an eyebrow with curiosity.
>
>
> It strikes you at that moment that she is not a Tabaxi.  The word just popped into your head, she's assuredly not that, some part of your mind tells you, and you'll certainly take its word for it, because you haven't the faintest recollection what a Tabaxi is.
>
>
> The woman's two, stunningly different cat-like eyes examine you, sparkling in the dying light with a soft lambency.  One slitted eye is perfectly golden, beautifully so, and you are certain, though you know not how you would know such, that it can see some distance into the future.  The other, a striking blue of the most perfect, cloudless sky is obviously used to see the past.
>
>
>
> "Hello, Takvor," she says musically, "If you wish to still be called so..."
>
>