Nayru Bausstier

she might be pretty, if you squint your eyes.

Description:

I’m cursed to be Pharasam’s Oracle, bound in terrible power. The gift of bones and death is my game now.

Bio:

My name is Nayru Bausstier, I am a teifling raised by the kindly, solitary wyrm monks of the desert dunes. Your wondering as to why? Because my whore mother left me on their church steps. They kept me hidden from the world because of my appearance. Horn’s and grotesque wings don’t really do well in society. They taught me how to read and write along with scripture to save my tainted soul. The monks where kind, and I loved them. It all changed when Pharasma decided to curse me with power. My devil blood had once again cursed me to serve a god I did not want. So now I travel seeking to be rid of this affliction and get my freedom back so I once again may see my beloved monks.

After traveling along a lonely journey filled with hatred and anger (a story for another day) I came upon a town, it was small and quiet so I figured It was the best choice to stop. I walked through not expecting any kindness from the local townspeople but I needed supplies terribly. I was half starved and my companion Samus, a happy slobbery bulldog had gotten the last of it. I could never resist her puppy eyes. Eyeing a local tavern I pulled my hood tighter trying to conceal my grotesque wings. I shoved open the door, letting Samus waddle in. Looking around and finding it empty save for a small bunch at a table drinking merrily and laughing. They turned and looked as I walked in curious, Samus excitedly ran over to a lounging small dragon. “SAMUS!” I cried hand out I thought for sure she was about to be dragon chow. But alas, the dragon greeted Samus like an old friend they sniffed each tails wagging. I walked over starting to apologize, a burly voice interrupted “Everything’s all right now, ya here.” Then a lovely elven woman scooted over patting the seat next to her, “Why don’t you sit with us and rest for awhile, you look tired.” She smiled and I smiled back taking a seat on the worn wooden bench next to her.

As some might say the rest is history, I said I’d stay and rest for a little from my long journey at their guild hall. It was cozy and welcoming, something I hadn’t had in a very long while. A little while in to days which turned into months, until I had become apart of their little group of misfits. My journey all but forgotten.

Nayru Bausstier

Guild of Helina sarah_swenson_58