Childhood for the peredhil, among four young uncles, was a dangerous time; oft and openly did Grandfather curse the family stain. Enduring the taunts and her Uncles childhood malice, Clarissa watched, and cowered, and learned as the years passed. Her Uncles grew to manhood and set out to make their way in the world, each taking what their father could give, and more; Soldier, Merchant, Scholar, Fool! Between her Grandfathers drunken beatings and errant gambling Clarissa grew ever more beautiful, until a losing hand brought fate to light.
In moments the deal was struck; a price fair for a fair hand, and a chance for Clarissa to redeem her mothers betrayal; a handsome dowry from a man of high renown. So was all arranged and dowry paid, in renewed glory and with honour did Grandfather walk, amid great feasting and pageantry was his esteem raised - a marriage to the Barons heir.
And so happily would there end our tale lest, at the bridal bed, should all mirth fail.
For stained indeed was fair Clarissa!
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What a truly happy day, so long a dream, now brought to life. The beauty, the joy the sights, the music the .... ! There were not words. And later there was the circus, at last a circus, he had promised her this. But he wanted time alone - with her - a tender moment in a glorious day. Clarissa waited now; to please her husband was her greatest wish. For her now happiness - for evermore!
Pain doubled her form, flung across the room by the impact of the blow, but more painful still, her sorrow, her shattered soul. Why such rage! Barely wed and not yet a kiss? She had sought only to please .... No! - he could not think? Could not expect? How could she know? He lunged again - no, no more, NO MORE! There would be no more beatings. Her fists flail, her fingers search - her hands close around the hilt of a blade - NEVERMORE!
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So it has come to this? Clarissa looks around the 'family' home; one last time. It is here that her mother perished, it is here that all hope was lost, it is here that .... No! - the pain is enough! There! Did you hear? The cries in the night alert her to their coming - the sigil burns brightly still and they must not see! She must flee, for her life is surely forfeit; there will be no more merriment here. But they must not see! The embers in the hearth! Perhaps there is heat enough? Quickly the oil lamp is spilled, splashed to the corners of the room and YES! There is heat enough. The fire sputters, the coals spark and the oil burns! Flames erupt from the hearthstone and the blaze consumes! Clarissa steps out of the blaze and slips into the comfort of the night, a low moon hangs on the far horizon, his a red hue heralding the coming dawn. The Bloodmoon. Come 'Jaspar' it is time, YOU will serve me now ......
Childhood for the peredhil, among four young uncles, was a dangerous time; oft and openly did Grandfather curse the family stain. Enduring the taunts and her Uncles childhood malice, Clarissa watched, and cowered, and learned as the years passed. Her Uncles grew to manhood and set out to make their way in the world, each taking what their father could give, and more; Soldier, Merchant, Scholar, Fool! Between her Grandfathers drunken beatings and errant gambling Clarissa grew ever more beautiful, until a losing hand brought fate to light. 
