|Guild||Harlots of the Pirate Isles|
|Professions||Harlot, sorceress, house keeper|
|Build||voluptous, a tad pudgy|
|Hair||Sandy blonde, tight intricate braids|
Meshkenet is a small woman. She has filled out quite a bit, moving towards a larger size. The woman's arms are thin and sinewy, she has done only a small amount of physical labor and it shows. Her hands are still smooth, though ink-stained. Her bosom is robust, despite years of maltreatment. Mesh's waist is wider than your typical harlot, she has a hint of fat as her fondness for food begins to show. Fitting her growing features her rear is also more than ample.
Her hair is a tightly braided mass of gold and brown. It is not apparent whether it is her natural color or a cosmetic alteration. If asked she only smiles. Her serpentine green eyes are startling at first, but not that unusual for one familiar with Stygians. Perhaps the most apparent feature is her black tattoo honoring her demonic liege. It enshrouds her cheeks, and underscores her eyes. If you look closely enough it looks like two mirror image serpents.
Her clothing is always in tune with the role she is playing. Billowing robes when using her considerable magic skills, dusky black or brown tunics when stealth is important, and only her Set-blessed flesh when other more intimate skills are needed.
Mesh tries her best to be cold and calculating. When others abandoned, or used her, Set was always there, and she attempts to exemplify that in her behavior. She contemplates action, never acting rashly. When pressured her wrath is swift and efficient. Mesh truly, scarily, loves The Great Serpent and yearns to emulate it in every way, but she is no priest.
For all her pretend logic and reason she is actually a capricious and cruel creature. Her love of fire passes the boundary of lust, and moves into obsession. She is a being of extremes, perhaps shaped by her life, and when the pendulum swings from reason to irrational she is a gluttonous woman. Her loves of food, wine, pain, sex, and fire all vie for control of her when she lets her guard down.
No one would call Meshkenet a patriot. She has no love for her homeland, or any homeland for that matter, as she feels no homeland has made any effort to claim her. If love is an emotion she is capable of only one entity claims ownership to it, and that is Set.
The girl was not named Meshkenet. In truth the girl had no name. The eighth, or possibly even tenth, child of a penniless street woman. This woman was no harlot, whore, and most definitely no a courtesan. She made what little money she could selling or giving her children to the Priesthood as sacrifices. You see the Great Serpent, like any snake, hungers for flesh. Unlike lesser serpents, Set will only eat the devoted. As anyone will tell you nothing is more devoted than a child, for they know no better.
Perhaps now would be a good time to refresh you, the reader, that this is not a happy story. You know that the girl lived, so you know that she was not devoured in the name of SET. You may hope it was because her mother, purple lotus addled whore she was, could not sacrifice this child. That through the haze of the drug, and the fires of her shame, she finally felt an emotion resembling sympathy, even love. Alas, that is not this story.
Instead of being sold to the priesthood of SET, for a leaf or even two of lotus, the girl's mother sold her to a man. The woman did not even bother to ask what for, she cared nothing for the man's appetites no matter how dark they be, for he paid her in an entire living lotus plant. For those that may care she kept it merely an hour before her throat was slit, the plant stolen, and her bloated corpse left for the snakes. Such is the will of SET.
The next three decades blurred for the girl. She was raised by the man's house staff, first as a maid, then as a dancer. She never wondered why he bought her, it was never her place. This continued until her twelfth year. That year SET bled her, and she became a woman. The house staff feared for her, but the man had shown he cared nothing for sex, seeing it as something animals did not men.
The rest was a barely perceived haze to the girl, now calling herself Meshkenet. She chose her name for herself, it means many things. One such meaning is a goddess of birth. Mesh thought it suitably ironic given her pedigree. Naeem, her owner, slowly lapsed into madness as she grew older. He had once whipped her for entering his libraries, but now he only scolded her. His body too crippled to do anything more.
Naeem began to spend his money wantonly in his waning days. He gambled, and whored, and drank his failing body to the brink of oblivion. The old fool even used his foul magics to prolong this atrocity, until one day his bills came due. All of his possesions were sold off to anyone with the coin or barter.
Meshkenet was sold to a bloated hulk of a man named Saddur. Now free of her slavery, and free of her past, the woman called Meshkenet seeks her own in the world.