Tara Shaw (Razor)

Warlock with a fierce determination to survive and forge her own path in defiance of the forces that shape the lives of others wether they be Kings, Armies, or Criminal bosses, she had seen the worst of all of them, and it had removed a veil from her eyes. She respects skill, knowledge and power of those who demonstrate it, any who would execise authority capably earn distrust, the incompetent earn contempt, those would blindly submit to others earn only a passing pity. She resevers a particular dislike for those born into positions of authority, like the aristocracy.   Tara grew up in a poor Laelese family in Laedry, constantly struggling to make ends meet, this fragile stability shattered during the Khadoran invasion. The invasion and occupation scattered and killed her family, Tara fell in with a gang of street children survivng through petty crimes, information gathering, and running errands. Life is always hard for those and the margins, and the occupation made things even harder Tara was fortunate to survive where many persihed, however with no stability Tara developed a ruthless sense of self reliance, and paranoia, avoiding any partnerships that might slow her down.   Forced to rapidly learn to survive on the streets, Tara eventually to flourished, in a fashion, her experience and ruthless desire to survive granted her a edge where others faded away and disappeared. She learned to be ready abandon any partnership,avoid close attachments, but carefully build relationships, skills and a reputation. The occupation and resistance granted opportunities, existing in a grey area between the Khadorans, Resistance, and criminals she could profit from all. There were always those who would pay for services and often the value for a reliable information were the difference between freedom, and Khadoran prison camp.   The conflict was devasting for all Laelese including the elite, assasinated, imprisioned, or exiled many had their homes and property looted. Amongst the destruction though there was still opporutnity for those with cunning and patience, often the wealthy had hidden stashes and secret safes, and it was these that Tara took particular enjoyment in finding and looting, exiled Nobles would pay richly for their heirlooned trinkets. It was during one such expedition to a abandoned manor that Tara discovered soemthing new, a secret room barely a small space that would fit a privy. Against the wall a high desk a set trinkets, books, and instruments, many marked in strange withing with arcane runes and diagrams, and on the wall hung a blade.   The sword was a oddly shaped, curved at the tip, but longer than a saber, bulkier than a dueling balde, and seemingly mundane, completely unadorned from point to pommel, but oddly utterly magnetizing to the girl who stared at it. Tara carried daggers they felt comfortable they suited her concealable, effective, didn't attract attention. She had seen many blades and never desired one, they were heavy, clumsy, unnecessary for her, a liability even. Without concious thought Tara had reached out and was holding this plain shining blade, watching the lamplight play along the edge. It felt right in her hands, it was against her paranoid instincts, she didn't know how, but behind her eys she could see, in the silence of her breath she could hear, and she knew here was the way to power, power that would let her shape her destiny. Khorva would show her how, she heard it in her soul it meant nothing, it made no sense, but it was undeniable truth, there was always a price, a cost but that was nothing to her, with this she could be free.   She looked the same after, spoke the same, when she did speak, wore the same clothes lived more or less the same way, the only difference was the the long blade at her hip, the sword was a odd style but it wasn't unsually for her a freelancing merc to show off. She had no friends, but her contacts, and aquantances suddenly found them selves unsettled in a way they weren't previously, rumours ciculated about a Kayazy who turned up dead, carved up like livestock, then the Kayazy team sent after the killer turned up in pieces scattered accross the district, there was no solid leads, only whispered rumours, no one new her age but she was just a slip of a girl.   Whilst the The Claiming shattered the world still further, it was time to leave, she had outgrown her old life, the city was too small its was stifiling, so was Lael, only her past existed there. Her future, her destiny, was out in the world...