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leticiaHer name is a sibilant string of expressed consonants that -she- can not duplicate perfectly, hissed by her adoptive pack. To them, it means "Soft-skinned Bright Child." She dresses in animal skins wrapped roughly around her to protect her tender flesh from the thorns of the jungle creepers that the rest of the family ignores. She is their shaman, their thinker, their tactician, a gift of the jungles to them that they have protected well.
They are unawakened stalkers, proto-Dragon Kings without the gift of awakened minds and essences, and many, many months ago, they drove a pack of claw striders from a destroyed human caravan, claiming the kill for themselves.
Only not all the humans were dead. One human cub was found wrapped in the humans' false-skins in the back of a wagon, unharmed and bawling. The young ones wanted to eat it too, but their matriarch... smelled a strange kinship on the child, and claimed her as a cub of the pack. At that time, she bore a Destiny to awaken a sleeping Dragon-King to educate the stalkers.
The young Bright Child remembers now nothing of her life before the pack, nothing of human society or speech. Her life is hunting, protecting the pack's territory, and placating the gods and elemental spirits that throng in the jungle and the ruins.
Her pack lairs in an ancient, long defunct manse, the geomancy intact enough to cap the demesne and control the powerful essence that would warp the residents, but not intact enough to form a stable hearthstone or activate the old amenities.
As a child and teen, she learned hunting from her family and lore from the local little gods and elementals. They sought to make her into a shaman to intercede for her pack, teaching her the basics of thaumaturgy and communication with spirits. She speaks pidgin Old Realm from this long time communication, but is scarcely able to communicate with human speakers; the spirits who taught her had dealt with stalkers for a long, long time.
Once, a Dragon-blooded Scavenger Lord came to try to pilfer from the manse the stalkers laired in. With her pack, she hunted him down, captured him, and at the old, age-stained altar in the center of the courtyard, sacrificed his living beating heart to the Unconquered Sun, with the guidance of local spirits and the prompting of the old faded carvings and murals in the manse.
In that moment, Essence awoke within her, and she Exalted, consuming her Destiny in a greater one. Since then, with the help of the local gods and the hidden secrets of the manse, she has learned potent sorcery. She has strange dreams of the manse as it was in the days of Rathess' glory, and seeks to restore it, one precious component at a time. She learned to attune the manse, and can receive essence while within it, but there is still no intact hearthstone to lend her its power.
The young Twilight, around age 18 (though she has no proper count of her years), dresses in rough, uncured hides and bark, wrapped and tied crudely around her for mere protection of her tender skin. Her hair hangs, knotted and unkempt, down her back, tangled with crudely carved charms and beads. Mud or blood smears into rough tribal markings on her forehead. Among humans, she has neither name nor family, not any place; she is, so far as she knows, a strangely soft-skinned stalker.
Since she has learned sorcery, she spends most of her time with Wood Dragon's Claws and Incomparable Body Arsenal up, adding to the bizarre appearance she puts forth: Her skin is patterned with reptillian metal scales, and gnarled iron-coated claws replace her hands except for those few minutes she spends doing some kind of fine manipulation with them.
She is likely to meet a future Circle either with them invading her manse, or as she goes out to find another component for it. She will be suspicious, but not hostile, unless they reveal themselves to be Scavenger Lords who are set on pillaging her ruins, and are unable to be dissuaded by her posturings. She can be communicated with via her crude knowledge of Old Realm, but will pick up and be able to speak another relevant language swiftly. However, she finds civilized humans highly baffling, even if she is drawn into their world and seeks to imitate their ways.
The sheet.
They are unawakened stalkers, proto-Dragon Kings without the gift of awakened minds and essences, and many, many months ago, they drove a pack of claw striders from a destroyed human caravan, claiming the kill for themselves.
Only not all the humans were dead. One human cub was found wrapped in the humans' false-skins in the back of a wagon, unharmed and bawling. The young ones wanted to eat it too, but their matriarch... smelled a strange kinship on the child, and claimed her as a cub of the pack. At that time, she bore a Destiny to awaken a sleeping Dragon-King to educate the stalkers.
The young Bright Child remembers now nothing of her life before the pack, nothing of human society or speech. Her life is hunting, protecting the pack's territory, and placating the gods and elemental spirits that throng in the jungle and the ruins.
Her pack lairs in an ancient, long defunct manse, the geomancy intact enough to cap the demesne and control the powerful essence that would warp the residents, but not intact enough to form a stable hearthstone or activate the old amenities.
As a child and teen, she learned hunting from her family and lore from the local little gods and elementals. They sought to make her into a shaman to intercede for her pack, teaching her the basics of thaumaturgy and communication with spirits. She speaks pidgin Old Realm from this long time communication, but is scarcely able to communicate with human speakers; the spirits who taught her had dealt with stalkers for a long, long time.
Once, a Dragon-blooded Scavenger Lord came to try to pilfer from the manse the stalkers laired in. With her pack, she hunted him down, captured him, and at the old, age-stained altar in the center of the courtyard, sacrificed his living beating heart to the Unconquered Sun, with the guidance of local spirits and the prompting of the old faded carvings and murals in the manse.
In that moment, Essence awoke within her, and she Exalted, consuming her Destiny in a greater one. Since then, with the help of the local gods and the hidden secrets of the manse, she has learned potent sorcery. She has strange dreams of the manse as it was in the days of Rathess' glory, and seeks to restore it, one precious component at a time. She learned to attune the manse, and can receive essence while within it, but there is still no intact hearthstone to lend her its power.
The young Twilight, around age 18 (though she has no proper count of her years), dresses in rough, uncured hides and bark, wrapped and tied crudely around her for mere protection of her tender skin. Her hair hangs, knotted and unkempt, down her back, tangled with crudely carved charms and beads. Mud or blood smears into rough tribal markings on her forehead. Among humans, she has neither name nor family, not any place; she is, so far as she knows, a strangely soft-skinned stalker.
Since she has learned sorcery, she spends most of her time with Wood Dragon's Claws and Incomparable Body Arsenal up, adding to the bizarre appearance she puts forth: Her skin is patterned with reptillian metal scales, and gnarled iron-coated claws replace her hands except for those few minutes she spends doing some kind of fine manipulation with them.
She is likely to meet a future Circle either with them invading her manse, or as she goes out to find another component for it. She will be suspicious, but not hostile, unless they reveal themselves to be Scavenger Lords who are set on pillaging her ruins, and are unable to be dissuaded by her posturings. She can be communicated with via her crude knowledge of Old Realm, but will pick up and be able to speak another relevant language swiftly. However, she finds civilized humans highly baffling, even if she is drawn into their world and seeks to imitate their ways.
The sheet.
