For the Glory of the Empire!
Cleric of Tarrinda
Cleric with Courage, Wrath and Inquisition domains
Mirimmae was born to a potter and his wife, the first daughter of seven. Placido was a very good potter. His bread and butter were the basic items used in trade-class families, but his delight was in the commissions he received with some regularity from the nobility. He was disappointed by the lack of a son, but heartened by the interest in his craft that his eldest child showed from an early age. Indeed, her mother was not as pleased by this fascination, for it often drew Mirimmae from watching her younger siblings. As Mirimmae’s younger sisters grew, however, her parents decided to ‘prentice her to her father. She split her time between minding the store front and learning to throw pottery. For her father, there was no prouder moment than the first time a bowl she had made fetched a good price.
Her plans, and her father’s, were thrown into disarray on Mirimmae’s thirteenth birthday. She was about to be officially taken on as her father’s apprentice, in the ceremony at the end of the annual tradesmen’s fair. The morning of the ceremony, she manifested magic. At the fair, a pack of older teenage boys were harassing Lilianna. Mirimmae stormed in, the air fairly shimmering with her anger. She stood in front of her sister, and dared the boys to try to start something with her. The boys laughed, and the ringleader moved in on her. He tried to hit her, but his fist hit…something invisible in front of her. When the gang tried to swarm her, that invisible something exploded outward, sending them sprawling ass over ears into the street.
Mirimmae was collected by the temple of Tarrinda that afternoon, and sworn to their service in the apprentice-binding ceremony. Though she was saddened by the change in her plans, she quickly lost her disappointment in the wonder of magic, and found that learning to wield it was not so very different from learning to throw clay. Having an innate sense of fairness, she also quickly took to Tarrinda’s teaching of justice. What she loved best, though, were the occasional jousts by paladins and knights training for combat—the noise, the cheering crowds, the feats of strength and valor. She devoured tales of knights and crusaders, fighting fairly against uncouth enemies. As she matured, she was drawn more towards the histories of battle wherein the right was right, but did not always succeed with such glory as told of the old kingdom, or succeeded at terrible cost, or perhaps did not succeed at all.
After four years of magical and combat training, Mirimmae was sent to the foothills of the Bloodcrystal Mountains. The orcs were restive again, and raiding more heavily across the borders. Mirimmae was sent with a small contingent of men to perform counter-raids, and to give succor to the towns on the border. She found actual adventuring to be much dirtier and far less glorious than the tales generally made it out to be. Despite that, and despite the tedium of endless tracking through the mountains, rather enjoyed it. Not necessarily the violence—it took her a month to avoid retching after every battle—but the rush of adrenaline, the relief on faces back home when they were informed that the threat had been taken care of, the chances to prove herself against her fears and pain.
It was a typical adventuring mission, lasting maybe six months while they ranged up and down the border. About four months in, they walked into a larger and more organized ambush than usual. They lost the knight in that battle, leaving the paladin as the only frontline fighter against the brutish melee attacks against the orcs. Mirimmae had to adapt from being a healing cleric to a combat cleric. It was terrifying. She was used to staying in back and dodging attacks, not to standing up front and encouraging them. But she girded her faith about her, and quickly found that standing face to face with the enemy was preferable to avoiding them. Mirimmae filled the role well enough that they finished their mission despite their loss.
The next ten years passed in much the same way. When there were border skirmishes or incursions, Mirimmae would be sent out with various companions to deal with them. She was also sent with the forces that freed Bloodcrystal Keep from the siege of orcs and barbarians. When times were quieter, she helped in the training of other clerics and paladins. She earned respect and renown for her combat prowess, and in later years was rarely home, as she and her group of companions was often asked for by name.
Out of the first group that Mirimmae had been sent with, she and two others had formed an informal guild within the Temple. Geronya had been orphaned at a young age, and the Church of Tarrinda had taken her in. She never officially swore service to the church, but she continued to live there and to serve at its call. She was an excellent scout. Braulio was a paladin, a merry one who sang bawdy songs in between his petitions to Tarrinda during combat. They frequently traveled with an Araunadan mage and Kithlanan scout, who were only loosely associated with the Church. They laughingly called themselves the Raggle-Taggle Gypsies, and were as surprised as anyone when the name seemed to attach itself to them and their deeds.
Another thing she learned in her travels was arbitration. If a town did not have a magistrate or temple within easy distance, Mirimmae found that as a cleric of Tarrinda, she was frequently called upon to arbitrate disputes or occasional dispense justice in the case of minor infractions. She never developed much tact in these interactions, but she did develop a keen ear for the truth, which brought her much forgiveness for her blunt way of settling matters.
During this time, Mirimmae was a mercurial woman, immovably brave in battle, with a reputation for a big heart and a quick temper. She could laugh at one of Braulio’s jokes one moment, weep over a desolated village the next, and ride off to battle brimful of anger in another second, and then swing back around again. She early on earned the name “Brighthand,” and it is the name she has used ever since.
It surprised no one when Mirimmae and Braulio fell in love. They married when Mirimmae was 23, and they remained happily married for twelve years. The couple did not have any children, much to Esmelia’s dismay. Whenever she scolded Mirimmae about the lack of grandchildren, Mirimmae simply laughed and wondered how she’d take care of any children when she was running around bashing orcs and Viakans and such. At which Esmelia would sigh. Mirimmae was thankful when Lilianne began having kids, as Esmelia stopped inquiring every letter if Mirimmae and Braulio were having children yet.
Three years ago, the dearest wish of Esmelia’s heart was answered. Mirimmae was pregnant. She prepared to train and teach again, and attempted to reconcile her excitement at starting a family with her disappointment at the curtailing of adventuring that it would inevitably mean. Braulio had no such mixed feelings. He greeted his wife’s pregnancy with his accustomed brio and unalloyed joy. They settled at the main Tarrindan temple, with every intention of remaining quietly until their child was old enough to be left while they went on milder adventures.
Of course, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. When Mirimmae was seven months along, the Viakans mounted the most serious attack on the border in decades. All available hands were called to the front, to repel the invaders. Braulio was summoned, too. He kissed his wife goodbye, and hummed a merry tune as he took his place at the head of a company. He never came home.
Mirimmae delivered stillborn twins a week after Braulio left. That evening, she received a message stating the Braulio had been killed. Under that pair of blows, she retreated to her room, and spent days in meditation and prayer. After two weeks, she emerged. Her face was drawn and grave, and she had cut off her hair. She gathered with her the remains of the Raggle Taggle Gypsies, and headed towards the Viakan plains. Though the main host had been repelled and had broken into pieces (as Viakan hosts tended to do after a short time), smaller raiding parties continued to threaten the border.
Tales were whispered of that hunt. Mirimmae and her companions were relentless in their grief. They interrogated the terrified survivors of raids, picking out bits of information that would lead to their quarry. They tracked down and slew countless small raiding bands, always searching for another. Mirimmae herself did not perhaps realize what it was she had been hunting, until she found her husband’s ring on the body of one of the raiders. She was torn between the desire to scream with rage and to wail with grief. She instead drew in one deep breath. And then another. She took the ring and stood up.
“That is ended, then,” she said, and the calmness of her voice surprised her.
She returned to the temple, where she quietly informed them that she would be leaving Thentiya to journey elsewhere. She has traveled from Narati to Abasha to Iziz. She has defended coastal cities from pirates, freed ships of slaves, and protected farmers from bandits.
Mirimmae now 38. She is tall, with bright blue eyes and graying red hair, which she keeps close cut. She is usually even tempered, now, since she feels that the passion and turmoil of youth departed the day she found her husband’s ring. She still knows the place righteous anger, and once her wrath is unleashed, she attacks her target with implacable focus. She has become far more adept at focusing her wrath in the last few years, and almost as adept at keeping the waters of her anger still and cool, so that it is ready to fuel her when it is needed.
She no longer has constant travelling companions. Geronya would have gone with her, but Mirimmae refused to consider it. Instead, Mirimmae joins with other groups or organizes them to suit her needs. By chance, she had joined with three others on their way to Brinora. She was curious about that part of the world, so on a whim decided to go. After the town guard had asked them to deal with the trogs…well, the rest can be imagined.
Mirimmae lost most of her family during the fall of Thentiya. Two of her sisters survived, and are currently with the refugees in Narati territory.