For the first time in her life, Marisol felt.. weak. She felt dependent. She could not find the answers she was searching for within herself. She turned to her new "family" with her questions, and while they were comforting, they were not particularly knowledgeable in the ways of the world and how it came to be this way.
She lived in her own room in that house. The rest of he family were afraid of that room.. they said there were ghosts that would haunt any who chose to stay there. But she was accustomed to spirits speaking to her, and found that this one was mainly harmless, but troubled. It had directed her to its diaries, which spoke of a long and awful war, in which warlords took the entire city, and everyone suffered under their rule. She supposed that this family was related to those who resisted... though they seemed rather docile now.
After reading and poring over these old diaries with every second of her time she did not spend eating or sleeping, inside of her grew a deep hatred. A hatred for anything that would dare harm an innocent person. She felt with all of her heart she must stop them, but she knew not how. To her, it seemed the whole world was obsessed with death and destruction, and bent on nothing but pain. But she was only one person. She'd read in the stories of these warlords, which were hardly people at all. They had legions of horrible twisted creatures, which carried out their will with deadly force. Even worse than these dark creatures, were the evil clerics that pulled the dead from the ground and had them walk among the living. How could she defeat such an army? How could anyone defeat them?
For now, she thought, the best thing to do is stay with the family, regaining her strength, and find followers who would first, regain the city, and second, manage to put a stop to whatever force was bringing such a darkness upon Amon'tir.
(OOC: Ladidah.. I suck. Pfft)