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[i]“I guess adventurers never come with happy pasts.”[/i] The strange-looking man mumbled under his breath after Iridiel had finished her tale of how she had been exiled from her homeland. Inwardly, Angora grew irritated - all he had in response was a snarky comment about how trouble seemed to follow them, not a sympathetic 'well, at least you're here' or even just an arm around her shoulders, as Angora had done? Yes, Iridiel had saved her life and her sanity twice over, but even so, Iridiel was a healer, and it seemed a very powerful one at that - surely some acknowledgement of her presence was warranted beyond a simple comment like that? Or was she making a mountain out of a molehill? Perhaps he'd simply meant nothing by it, and it was more of an off-the-cuff line that he honestly said as a way of breaking the ice? Maybe. Angora wasn't sure what to think at the moment. Her head ached from the ordeal that Iridiel had subjected her to earlier, whilst the fire was still too small to have a meaningful effect on the cold winds biting at Angora's skin. At least one advantage of the spirit's possession was that she hadn't noticed the cold. Probably because it didn't understand it, or something.

Of course, then the man's attention turned to her. And what a question to start with, eh? [i]“How did you end up possessed by the... thing? The one that controlled you?”[/i] It was a most prying question, and one that perhaps was not particularly conducive to endearing Angora to her new-found companions, given that she was undertaking highly-illegal and morally questionable activities when she was... well, possessed was probably the best way of stating it. Still, he had asked, and she might as well come out and say what she was doing - lying would likely bring down even more danger on her head than telling the truth. Besides... she owed it to them to at least come clean, this once. Not something she found easy to do, given her history.

"Well, we might as well start from the beginning, because to explain what I was doing out here, I have to explain what my profession was in Zerul City. I primarily worked in the criminal underground of the city - what underground there even is, needless to say - in a fair few different lines of work; I was an assassin, armed robber from time to time, occasional lady of the night and then murderer, occasionally I took part in organised drug smuggling, organised magical item smuggling, you name it, we dealt in it. And that leads me onto what was going on about... what would it be, six months ago? I think six months ago, I can't even remember the passage of time. All I do know is that it was about spring, and now it is-" Angora hesitated for a moment, looking around at her surroundings, "- I think autumn? Yes, autumn seems about correct, given the windchill." Angora chuckled a bit and drew the cloak around herself more tightly, trying to keep warm. Despite the cloak's best efforts, the wind was finding ways of sneaking inside and chilling her body. Not to mention the ground itself was as cold as ice, it seemed. "Well, anyway, it was early in this year when a penin expedition had reported they'd discovered some very powerful artefact, perhaps even deitic in manufacture. They'd called it simply the Black Sword, for... well, obvious reasons. And they were going to bring it back to Zerul City for investigation and research at the College of Magic. Unfortunately, there was something in the sword, some kind of spirit? Whatever it was - well, is, seeing how it's still in my body right now - it was not of this plane. The sword... well, its allure seemed to turn the penin against each other, which weakened the convoy and I believe led some of them to kill each other over accusations that they were planning to steal the sword and take it for themselves. Meanwhile, I had been contacted by someone rather... high up in the criminal networks - they wanted the sword and they were paying rather handsomely for it's theft from the convoy, preferably with none of the penin surviving to tell the tale. Now, you must understand, my family is not a poor one, we didn't really need the money, but our fortune is built on black gold. My mother stole the jewellery that my father used to learn the art of goldsmithing. My father, in turn, sold the re-purposed jewellery on for a healthy profit. And none were any the wiser... and so I thought that I could pull off a brilliant coup if I was successful, perhaps even raise us higher than we'd ever thought possible. Yes... an 18 year old girl thinking she could elevate her family into high-ranking circles driven out of pure greed, it's unthinkable, isn't it?" Angora smiled, trying to maintain as innocent a face as she could. "Who would have thought such a thing possible from one such as me? So, into the woods we go, in the direction of the penin convoy - which had caused quite the ruckus in the local area, so it was fairly simple to follow the rumours towards - and then, lo and behold, the convoy slowly makes it's brow-beaten, blood-soaked way towards Zerul City, ambushed by those ever-honourable 'gentlemen' Crusaders once or twice along the way. And so, they make camp when your dear Angora Kelenwyn finds them at night."

Angora sighed and shuffled one arm outside of the cloak and rubbed her eyes. "What I'm about to say, I'm not proud of. I regret doing it. I often don't sleep because of it." She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "I killed them. All of them. All in cold blood." She shook her head as she continued, on the face of things scarcely able to believe that she'd done them... but she had. And she could remember the actions as clear as day. "The watchman was looking away from the undergrowth where I was hiding... so I sprang out, as quickly and quietly as I could. I knifed him in the back between his shoulder blades to make it quick and quiet, so as not to wake the others. Then, I walked around, stooping to slit their throats as they slept. They choked to death on their own blood, whilst yours truly thought nothing of it. It sounds horrible, I know, but... all I could think about was the sword, and the money when I returned. You're probably all sitting there thinking I'm a monster, and yes, I might well be. After all, only monsters murder people in their sleep, right? Only monsters sound like [i]this[/i], anyway..." Angora leaned forward underneath her cloak and closed her eyes, trying to forget the mental image that had been brought back by her recollection of her tale. She carried on, even though she was slightly muffled by her head in the thick wolfskin mane that Iridiel had loaned to her to keep her warm as her clothes dried. "I killed them all... and then I took the sword for myself. It was wrapped up in cloth, in one of their backpacks - probably the leader's. It was so beautiful... the leather scabbard - which is right here, by the way," Angora reached over under her cloak and patted the sword next to her, "was just... it was breathtaking at the time. It's all muddied and dirtied now, but back then... by the gods, it was beautiful. And the sword itself... I'd never seen anything like it. But the moment I unsheathed it, well... that was when it all started. The blast from the spirit's escape knocked me to the ground, and I felt a surge of energy wash over me. And then... then the voices started. I started hearing whisperings in my head when everything was quiet. They told me to do these horrible things, to kill and to slaughter. Almost if one were mentally ill, you know? Those things that people talk about when they're committed to the asylum? It was right there, in my head. And then, it slowly started to take over my actions. I fought back as best I could, but I realised that not only had I made a fairly terrible mistake - and this was very, VERY up there on lists of terrible mistakes, short of perhaps selling your soul to Hazzergash or jumping off a bridge in an attempt to grow wings and fly - but I'd never make it back to Zerul. Oh, this young lady was paying for her avarice, most certainly, I was getting my little comeuppance. And then, after about a week, I think the process was basically complete. I wasn't fully under the spirit's influence, but... it all but controlled me. I couldn't remember who I was, I couldn't remember anything, anything at all. I didn't even remember my name until I saw a poster with it on. I knew how to read, somehow, but I couldn't talk in Rodorian, only that awful bastardised mess you heard earlier. All I knew was that I had to survive, by any means necessary. So... then I guess I became that thing you encountered earlier. I think the villagers around here called me... the Untamed? Something like that? The wildling, the untamed, whatever it was. It was a fitting name, I'll give them that. So began my six months of possession. Until today, I suppose."

Angora reached out from under her cloak and took another slip of salted ham from the hunk Iridiel had been cutting. "Then I met you people. And the rest is history." She got to her feet and walked over to her clothes, patting at them to see if they were still wet. They were sodden. Turning away, Angora muttered under her breath. "Hurry up, damn you... I can't go about in naught but a smile..."