R'vahr, Hunter in Darkness

Gender: Male
Age: 20

Race: Human
Tribe(s): Phthia, R'mart, Eyelia
Occupation: Hunter

Hair: Nor'sidian or white
Eyes: Black with golden flecks
Height: 5 fores
Wieght: 1 pygge 4 hebs
Handed: Ambidextrous

Overview

R'vahr is an outgoing man, who loves to have a good time. He uses his cunning, skills and physical prowess to the best of their ability; because of this he has a tendancy to get what he wants, usually female attention. His greatest companion is Mepher the ferret, who is always by his side.

Language

Since R'vahr speaks four languages I have a legend for his thought/speech colors. The chart below should be helpful when rping with The Hunter in Darkness.

Tharian
Thoughts
Phthian
Eyelian

Apearance

R'vahr has an athletic body, as he is careful to keep himself healthy. His Nor'sidian skin seems to drink in the light. The underlying form embodies youth and vigor, accentuated by the tight muscles sliding under his skin like an orchestra of sensuality. His shape is lithe and long, which further displays the sexual side of his appearance.

He has dark features with razor thin lips and a hard jaw. While his smiles are usually smug grins, full laughter will reveal white teeth and sharp canines. The defined ridges of his cheeks lead into a sharp chin over which resides a large and sharp nose. His eyes are expressive, with irises so dark that one cannot distinguish the pupil from the iris. The edges of the iris are flecked with golden stripes, much like a hawks or eagles. He is very exotically attractive, especially when displaying his roguish grin. Some would even call him beautiful. His face is kept clean and sharp, though if he were to allow the beard to grow out it would be sparse and boyish. R'vahr's hair is naturaly Nor'sidian, and silkily smooth. He tends to dye it white when he can afford the expense, however, appealing to the interesting contrast. The lightest he can get it is a pale gray. He keeps it long, slightly past his shoulders usually, and sometimes puts it in a clean ponytail. A few strands usually slide in front of his gleaming eyes, giving him a darkly attractive stare. His eyebrows are thin and dark, and their sharp curves give him a sort of seductive expression.

Usually his expression is calm and inviting, with the hint of a grin. He embodies animalistic sensuality. He is the height of male sexual prowess and most women find themselves amazingly attracted to him. His voice is like black chocolate being poured on a storm cloud, and can send a woman wild when uttering soft nothings into her ear.

In the rare occasion of anger R'vahr's face contorts into a mask of animalistic rage, his nostrils flare wide and his lips quiver and froth. His body tenses and his already hard muscles become as bands of steel sliding just beneath his skin. His hands curl into fists and he hunches over with a rabid snarl, his canines laid bare by his writhing lips.

R'vhar has strong and nimble fingers and feet that he uses to scale the black mountains and volcanoes of the R'unorian Isles. His hands are rough and calloused and his feet even more so. His nails are roughly trimmed and thick. His body is similar to that of a warrior, though more lithe and flexible.

He is very proud of is appearance and likes to show off his body, so his clothing usually has openings at the chest. He is not one to be modest.

Clothing

A heavy nor'sidian robe of exceptional quality is swathed about his hard frame in the colder months. The hood is usually up over his head and shading his face. The robe's arms flare out slightly as they reach the wrists, and the hems are bordered in Karikrimson weaves. The robes are embroidered with thin red lines that cunningly depict animals and monsters. A burning Scorcher wraps around the left arm several times, and a dragon weaves around the right. On the back is a large turtle, just as the R'unor coat of arms. The robes have several hidden pockets that a customs officer would have a hard time discovering. The inside is lined with deep black and grey furs which keep him warm.

The robe is kept immaculately clean, being a gift from his father, and has a great amount of sentimental value to him. It is a traditional Phthian ceremonial robe and as such is of rich fabrics and rare dyes. Made for the harsh conditions of his home Isle it is able to withstand most of what nature can dish out.

R'vahr can usually be found wearing a black leather jacket and tough leather trousers. They are ornate and well built, each carries symbols of meaning to him.

Upon the left breast of the jacket is the turtle insignia of his home and the right sports a stylized eagles eye. He usually wears no shirt under the jacket, which has no clasps. His muscled chest is laid bare, which he likes just fine. Upon the back of the jacket a flaming Scortcher is depicted. The leather of this garment is strong and well made. Both breasts also have six pockets which he can store small things in.

Usually both of his hands are covered by his black leather gloves. Each is light and thin, and strong enough for outdoor use. They are smooth and seem to drink in the light. An expert embroidery of the insignia of the R'unorian turtle decorates the backhand of the left, and a scorcher wraps around the right. The palms of the gloves are thick and cured in a certain way so that he may throw his moondeath without slashing his hands open.

To keep the show of impressiveness, he wears a thick, blood red sash about his waist. This silken sash is also part of his fathers ceremonial robes. It has a stylized turtle masterfully crafted of black iron as a buckle. Also well cared for and made of fine, strong materials, the sash holds all three of his hunting tools. The two fangs and his Moondeath.

He wears light black leather boots, softly soled so as to be quiet; his thickly calloused feet allow him to walk over hard igneous rock with these thin boots.

He wears no jewelry aside from the stylized turtle brooch on his left breast for the people of his birth, and a couple eagle's feathers woven into his hair for the Eyelians, who are the people of his soul.

Weaknesses

R'vahr has deep rooted flaws, most stemming from his passionate immaturity. He is rash and youthful in action. He is known to get himself in trouble with an invalid boast, or for a woman, no matter her guilt. He is susceptible to violent mood swings and acts irrationally almost at random. His heart fills with fire and his mind is clouded, he takes onto his passion and lets his spirit control his body. This can get him into situations of which he has a hard time escaping.

R'vahr feels a need to be accepted. His lifestyle of shifting from one place to the next leaves him without strong permanent human bonds. He feels lonely and lacks the strong love of a lasting mate. Quick fixes of passion and lust rarely calm his sorrow, and he can try to drown out the pain with various drugs in moments of weakness. This leaves him vulnerable to those he has already angered with his passion.

While usually amiable and peaceful, R'vahr hates orcs with a passion. He sees them as the destroyers of everything that is good, and can never trust them. The hunter rarely gives them a second's chance, labeling them as things that must be killed upon recognition. This would not be such a weakness, if not for the fact that they are so much more powerful than he is, and tend to respond to situations with outright violence. R'vahr will never be able to accept anyone who allies themselves with an orc, and cannot trust, follow, or listen to them until they have shunned the beast as a monstrosity.

Because of his natural talent with other people, especially women, some grow very envious of R'vahr. People who are base and crude find his success to be an insult to themselves, especially if they feel he is moving in on their territory. R'vahr does not think of people as his or hers, simply as people. He does not understand how he could be offending the men in a bar if all the girls are surrounding him and giggling. He just sees them as people who want affection, love, and to be desired. These envious dregs are also, sadly, the kind of people who find that they must stoop to violent action to solve their problems, and instead of becoming better, more enlightened people by his example, usually try to have his legs broken. R'vahr, also regrettably, needs his legs.

Because of his wild lifestyle, R'vahr has a hard time sleeping. When he eventually does fall into a slumber it is anything but deep. He awakens at the slightest sound. He has a hard time getting a full night's rest. These bouts of insomnia can last for weeks, though as with all cases of sleep deprivation, symptoms disappear after one good nights rest. Lack of sleep can cause: Lack of judgment, physical weakness, lack of motivation, slow thought process, hallucination, difficulty staying awake, and other various symptoms.

R'vahr loves women. Their beauty transcends sight and the voice of a pretty girl can send him spinning. He could be hunted by the town guard and be sitting in plain sight flirting with some girl. Though women tend to like him back, the devious ones will sometimes try to use him. He will get in serious trouble for a cute smile, and will risk his life for a street address. If he finds a woman in need, even if she is the original perpetrator, he will come to her aid.

R'vahr is very trusting, and cannot conceive that he himself could have enemies. He feels that everybody should like him, and if they don't, they simply don’t know who he is. He would trust any human, elf, gnome, halfling... anything but a dirty orc or orc lover. Because of this, anybody who actually perceives him as an enemy has an easy time figuring out what his weaknesses are, and using his bad habits against him. Usually getting him drunk and high to the point were he cannot protect himself.

R'vahr would never kill a man preemptively. Unless he was attacked or felt that he needed to protect somebody that was being attacked, the hunter would never use violence. Because of this, others have an easy time getting the first blow in on R'vahr. These are usually the base sort of envious person who seeks to break his legs. This, of course, excludes orcs. While R'vahr will not simply attack them, he does not find it evil to kill an orc while he is not looking. Their kind needs to be culled.

Strengths

R'vahr is strong and agile, with a body like that of a Ju'bat. He is sleek and lean, yet under his thin flesh are bands of coiled steel, ready to snap into movement at any moment. He moves swiftly, his light body allowing him to flow like water where others tumble like flowing rocks. He is nimble in action and his hard sinewed body gives him the strength one needs to survive on their own. He is hard from living in the wild his whole life, never being given the mercy to rest. The hunter is in constant motion.

R'vahr is a hunter of massive prowess. He can sneak just as well as most assassins, and with greater skill then most, when he is hunting in the wild. He can track his prey down, then close in on wild game enough to use his deadly fangs. He is silent, without scent, he knows how to become the shadows around him, and how to use the foliage as cover. His skill allows him to slink across the earth as any predator on the hunt. Once he has found that which he seeks, he downs it with an explosive leap and stab with his fangs.

R'vahr's "fangs" are very well made and are sharper than glass. Each slides through flesh like a hot knife through butter. The hardness and razor sharpness of Black Iron is renowned. The black fangs tend to intimidate would be foes with their wicked serration’s and curved blades, each almost a fore long.

The hunter also has a MoonDeath of good quality. He can use this to kill small animals, though it does not have the power to take down big game. He is fairly skilled with it's use, and can accurately throw it up to four peds. After reaching it's target, it quickly curves back to the thrower. The hunter uses this ability to an advantage. R'vahr must wear his gloves, which are specially crafted to catch the moondeath, as the weapon lacks the usual cross bar, and is simply a ring of sharp silver. Without them the weapon would slice his hand open when he threw it.

R'vahr's senses are much more acute than a regular man's, in fact, they are closer to that of a wild animal. He has eyes like a hawk, and ears like a cat. His senses can be used in various ways. R'vahr likes to use them to show off, but they are extremely useful in finding what cannot be seen. He seems to almost have a sixth sense, this in fact is simply his ability to notice and react. In the wild, being observant is the difference between life and death.

His body is amazingly sensually attractive. Women find it hard to resist him, and usually he needs no aid when searching for a companion to keep his tavern bed warm.

He is kind and extrovertive, and has no trouble with people skills. Something about him makes others trust him, and like him. His sweet and passionate love leave the women who he stays with loving him in return when he has to depart, instead of feeling abused.

R'vahr is no dummy, and displays a quick cunning and wit. He is a problem solver and a quick learner. He can formulate plans and put them to action, and his natural charisma allows him to get others to follow his plans.

Personality

The hunter in darkness has a soft spot for women, and usually finds himself trusting them without a thought. While his relationships are short-lived, he rarely lacks a few girls to hang around with, with his body and personality. He loves to
hear them speak, and their touch exhilarates him, he can almost always be found near a woman. Sometimes his little hobby gets him in trouble, though he likes the feel of danger and the unknown.

Even more so than women, orcs get R'vahr in trouble. He hates orcs with a liquid rage, it is his blood. His tribe has been under siege by orcish hordes for centuries, and he cannot forgive them for the crimes they have committed. Any orc is a being to be mistrusted and hopefully lynched. R'vahr can never trust any orc, or any of orc blood. He does not listen to reason when around Orc flesh, his mind thinks only of how to kill them.

R'vahr is very extrovertive, with a talkative spirit and amiable nature. He is outgoing and has no trouble striking up a conversation. He loves to be around people, and trusts almost any human to the point of flaw. It is not rare for him to be telling the tale of how he hunted down that giant wolverine in some tavern or another. He is very charismatic and others tend to trust him, and listen to him. He is charming, and passionate. His connection with life is strong, and others can almost see the will to be alive and the joy at being so alive burning across his flesh.

The women he has been with over the years rarely have anything bad to say about him, even after he leaves them for his adventures. He is so loving and affectionate, and his love so free and genuine, that they find it hard to begrudge him for his departure. His kindness and sweet passion leave an imprint of his affections on those he loves. Also, since the girls are usually given the best night they will ever have in their lives, their eyes are usually dreamy rather than furious.

Despite his skill at hunting, R'vahr finds violence detestable. The hunt is a dance to him, an art form, a prayer. It serves a purpose and is a part of life. Without the culling of the weak, a herd is wracked with sickness and death. He kills his prey as painlessly as possible and thanks them for their sacrifice. He understands that by imbibing their flesh, they become an eternal part of him, and live on. Thus by the hunt, and the inherent circle that life is, we all live on forever. R'vahr will be the first to say violence is not the answer. He will be open and up front on his feelings about a person, but would rather settle them over a few beers and some intelligent discussion, or if the person be female, a bed. He will only resort to violence if he must to protect the innocent and weak, himself, or a woman.

With his natural cunning and deeply inquisitive mind, the hunter in darkness likes to keep an edge on modern thought. Whenever he comes upon a town or settlement, he keeps his sharp ears open for knowledge. He has shadowed many scholars of R'unor and understands, in theory, how many of their mechanical wonders operate. Because of this, sprinkled within his speech are deep insights and complex verbiage. He likes to impress others when a chance is given.

R'vahr loves to push his abilities and body to their extremes. as with his mind. He lives for a challenge, and if a quest is put in such context he will likely join up, especially if there will be female company. While R'vahr lacks common sense he has a great deal of wit and guile to see him though till morning.

He feels that he has to impress people, and rise above their shallow expectations. This of course holds especially true with females.

Belongings

R'vahr owns very little, most of it is either made by himself, stolen, or his by birthright. R'vahr keeps most of his items in a knapsack which is slung over his right shoulder, leaving his left arm free.

Items that he might need quickly are stored in various pockets within his jacket, leggings, gloves, boots, robes, etc. These are usually flint, string, money, and such. That which R'vahr does have, he is very possessive over. R'vahr's senses usually take hint of potential thieves, and he does not take kindly to their potential actions.

He also has a well made spear, which is made for hunting larger game at a distance. His he usually carries as a walking stick. His fangs are usually stuck in his karikrimson sash, with the handles turned just so, that they should be quickly accessible. His silver MoonDeath is kept safe at his hip, in a quick release sheath. Lastly he carries at his hip a dagger. It has an obsidian blade, and a handle in the shape of an eagle.

Weapons

One of R'vahr's Fangs.

R'vahr's main tools are his fangs. He is fast and agile, yet true close combat is beyond him. Instead they are used for hunting. The fangs in and of themselves are masterfully crafted weapons, and a great advantage. They are sharp and hard, being made of ancient Black Iron. The insignia of the R'unorian turtle is carefully etched onto the blade of one fang, and an eagle's eye is depicted on the other.

He also carries at his hip a beautiful silver MoonDeath. He knows how to use the weapon, though he has never used it in a battle situation. Instead it is for killing small prey in the winter, when big game is scarce. The sheath it is kept in is fashioned so that the weapon can be easily retrieved from it's grasp. Etched around the circumference is a burning Scorcher.

History

R'vahr's mother was from the R'mart tribe and had some political power, she was wed to his father in hopes of bringing the Phthia clan out of its isolationist rut and into the modern day. The attempt failed though, as Shi'thia fell in love with the lifestyle of the Phthia, and Hen'net. She adapted to their ways, and married Hen'net out of love.

Hen'net was a great hunt-leader of his village and one of the greatest hunters on the R'unorian Isles. He was a strong of spirit and a master of the wild.

Having staved off continual orcish raids and even one full-scale battle, Hen'net was also a respected warrior of his people. He'net's village had many bitter battles with orcs attempting to attack the nearby Ironclaw, the warriors and their brilliant leader repelled each, though not without casualties. Many of R’vahr’s dearest friends were killed brutally by orcs. Because of the brutality he faced in his younger years at the hands of the orcish race, R’vahr despises their kind as brutes and ignorant violent ones at that. Even when shown evidence to prove otherwise, he contends that the orc is simply trying to gain his trust so that it may break his heart as well as his bones. He learned to cure the wounds of battle the hard way, having to suture those who were cut by the orcs on their many vicious raids against his home. Though he takes the skill with him, it is not scars of its own.

When entering battle against the raiders, Hen'net wore black ceremonial robes with a red sash about his wrist for his son and another wrapped around his waist for his wife. Upon his arms he boasted twin bladed gauntlets that had been passed down the ages, family heirlooms. These objects became the representation of justice against chaos and truth and beauty against uglyness and ignorance. They symbolized the ability for love to conquer hate.

Despite his prowess for the art, Hen'net hated battle, and vowed that the art of war would not pass onto his son. He knew that love was the only reason man was alive, and taught his son how to love and be loved. R'vahr learned how to love women, nature, and life itself. Also, he was taught of the hunt. He would never teach his only son the complex use of bladed gauntlets. Instead he had two strange daggers formed, each resembling a snake's fang. The handle curved back so that the blades were ninety degrees from the wielders hand.

R'vahr quickly learned how to be one with nature, and how to live off of the land. He would use the fangs to bless his prey with a quick death by slicing the vital arteries in the throat.

Despite his father's wishes, R'vahr saw an amazingly beautiful MoonDeath at the market in Ironclaw. It was much larger than the usual kind, being nearly a fore in diameter, and forged of fine silver. R'vahr begged his mother to buy it for him, so intrigued was he by the design. He blade was given the blade on his next birthday.

He has trained himself in it's most simplistic use, and can hurl the weapon accurately up to four peds. If the weapon does not hit anything along the way, it curves back to it's wielder. R'vahr has special gloves that he uses to catch the returning MoonDeath.

Hen'net was said to be the greatest off all the hunters of the Phthia and maybe even the Isles. He could slip right behind his prey, and slaughter it before it understood what was happening, with a tiny slash at the throat or head. He could wait for days, without moving at all, for the perfect opportunity. He loved spending time with his son, and the two would stay in the wilderness with only each other for weeks at a time. R'vahr learned how to bless the beat that he hunted, and thank it for giving it's life to him. He learned that life is a circle, and that it could never be stopped by hate or death.

R’vahr and his family lived in a village within trading distance of Ironclaw upon the slopes of Gorgramoth’s Forge. The village was called Ul’aer, it was beautiful and filled with happy people. While large for a Phthia settlement and boasting the greatest hunters of all of the villages, R'vahr often felt the need for adventure in his life. He taste the sweetness of glory, and see the outside world. His lusts for new experiences often caused him to wander out by his own.

The wild consumed much of R'vahr's time, and often he felt a deep connection with nature. He learned from the animals about him, and soon became wise in the ways of the beast. He became less like a man when hunting and more like a predator. When not hunting or training, R'vahr would go out on long walks to the forest of souls and occasionally visit one of the other villages.

On one of these walks he saw a strange animal, long and black as the night sky, and drank from a small pool of glowing magma. He approached it, in awe of its beauty, and dubbed the creature, Mepher. He had heard a merchant in Iron Claw use the word as a curse when he burned his finger on a steam boiler. Yet as he neared the animal, it ran into a deep crevice. R'vahr followed without thinking. He slid down the wall of the crevice, and found nothing but a small hole. A fearful thought came to mind, and he looked back up the crevice wall. The walls were too steep for him to climb, the crumbled as soon as his weight rested on them. He was three peds into a crevice with no way out.

R’vahr was trapped in the crevice and could think of no way out. He stared at the hole for a short time, and then entered. He found that it was the entrance to a larger cave, which glowed orange and was very warm. He squirmed down the cave till his very bones were weary and then stopped to rest. The cave had gotten very small, and he had to lie on his belly to move through it, but it was the only chance he had of escape, so he trudged on.

Then he heard a troubling sound. With his crawling creating so much noise he had missed it before, but now it roared and felt far too close, he could feel a liquid heat upon his brow. It is good that he paused for he was only a few fores from a deep shaft, which lead down more than a stral into a fiery magma pit. He then felt something, it was warm and alive, and it rubbed against his side softly. At first he was afraid, but then he was comforted. In the dim light, he could see that it was Mepher, the strange creature he had chased into this situation.

Mepher smelled like sulfur and he winced slightly at the rank, it was larger than he had thought, nearly bigger then he himself. He reached out and touched it, brushing his fingers against the hard leathery hide. Its flesh felt hot, and his nose was wet. He reached into the small bag tied to his waist, and offered the animal some food, which was promptly devoured. Mepher than began to pull at R'vahr's pant leg, urging him towards another side tunnel. Having no other guide, the boy followed, and was soon in the light of day again.

He then went home, and was not surprised when the ferret began to follow him. He felt a bond with the animal, as if they should have always been together, and would be together for the rest of time. It was not for many years that Mepher was able to share his feelings directly to R'vahr, but when he would, He allowed R'vahr to know that he followed the boy for one reason, because it was the only right thing to do. The two became the greatest of companions, and R'vahr soon began to learn of the ferrets various needs. Every few months they would return to the Forge, and Mepher would stock up on the various minerals and chemicals that the village lacked.

Life went smoothly for R'vahr. He grew into a stunning man, and quickly became the most wanted male in the village. His father continued to teach him that love, and hunting were the way of life, and kept him from the battles with the orcish raiders. His mother taught him of herbs and self aid. He learned how to stitch a wound shut, and how to clean it. He became a hunter without peer and frequently spent months in the wild, with only Mepher as a companion.

He was sixteen when he realized that he was lonely. Nothing could take away the emptiness. He had slept with every young woman in his village, and most of the young women from Ironclaw. Yet he felt no companionship from any of them. Only from his mother and father could he feel any attachment. He told them of this, and they asked him to examine what he really wanted. He spent three months in the forest of souls, and discovered that he had tasted everything Ru'nor had to offer. He was bored with this place, and wished to find somebody, something, worth living for.

He returned to his home, and told his parents of what he had found. They were saddened, yet knew that he should fill his life with joy, and they should not hold him down. They gave him the greatest of their worldly gifts. He was given his father's robes, and the Karikrimson sash that his father wore around his waist to battle. His mother gave him a masterfully crafted satchel, to keep all of his worldly belongings, a heavy leather jacket, and leather leggings. Within the satchel were twelve small triangles of platinum, each with a ruby set in the center. They were a gift from his grandfather, of the R'mart tribe. It was enough currency for him to purchase whatever he may need in his journey.

Because of his usually thrifty life style, R'vahr still has enough of this coinage to pad any hard times he may come upon. He also took with him everything he would need. Herbs, needles, thread, rope, etc.

He had Mephér consume as much aluminum as he could find, until the reinforced metal bonded to his bones for storage, then he gathered all of his belongings and set out for the southwest. He traveled down to Ironclaw and then paid for transport over the sea to Bluesteel, a smaller city on the edge of the R'unorian boundaries. The nearest port available was many miles to the north at the northern border of Vardynn, the city of Milkengrad.

In this port city he came to a tavern and learned as much as he could from the people there. He could not yet speak Tharian, but he could understand much of it. The Eyelians, he learned, were secretive and quiet people to the south of Vardynn, in the province Sanguia. He heard many stories that could not be true. He heard that they could talk to animals and their armies had full units of beast trainers. He heard that they were extremely intelligent and lived off of the land. He also heard that their women were full of dark beauty. These people seemed to appeal to all his wants and needs. He decided that joining them would indeed make him whole, and went south.

He had to traverse through Vardyn and Xar, allowing Mephér to feed on any abandoned or not so abandoned mines they came across until he came to the Ilian Plateau. The journey took four weeks and much of R'vahr's energy, so there they rested and meditated. They sacrificed a kill to H'lf'ik, and thanked him for the plentiful food, R'unor is a much harsher land than Santharia. The deer were good to eat, and life was simple and happy. Then, after a refreshing break, they resumed their journey, asking for directions whenever they felt the must, and trying to stick to the paths.

They traversed the Steppe of Kruswik and after a month of hard march, came to the foot of a set of great mountains. The mountains were a strenuous change from the plains he had traveled before, yet were not so harsh as the Forge. He had lived in a much harsher landscape. These experiences served to further sharpen his skills, and soon he could speak Tharian respectably.

Finally, after nearly three months of harrowing adventure he came upon the city of Tyr Thromgolin. When he got to the metropolis of sorts he was weary, and did not wish to walk anymore. His bones were heavy within his body, and his feet were thick with sores. He spent 6 K'ln that he had saved up from his fur trade for passage down the nearby river to his final destination, Vezash, the capitol of the Eyelians.

The boat came to a stop three days later. He entered the town, and asked to speak with the chieftain of the Eyelians. With a bit of charm he was granted a short visit. R'vahr told the man, from whom he felt a radiant knowledge, that he wished to help the tribe and become a part of it, as their ways spoke to his heart. He explained of his journey and the trials he had gone through in order to make his appearance, and asked to be initiated as one of their own. He told them that he was the son of a great chieftain from a far isle, who knew of the ways of nature, and wished to learn from the Eyelian people.

In response, the chieftain told him of the solidarity of the Eyelians, and how they must keep their secrets their own. He told the boy that they were a lonely people, and that R'vahr could find no solstice here. R'vahr was ashamed, and left. He went into the bordering forest, hungry and angry. As he wandered and fumed, a feint cry reached his ears. He stopped for a moment, and mepher raised his head. Both looked at each other for a short while. The cry came again, with greater urgency. Mepher leapt from R'vahr's shoulders and ran in the direction of the call, and was soon overtaken by R'vahr's own long strides.

The sight that they came upon was horrifying. A giant black spider, with glossy armor and massive fangs. It was creeping toward a woman, who was pulling at her leg. Around the woman's ankle was a thick cord of spidersilk. The beast was at least two peds long, and four peds in diameter. R'vahr was frozen in a moment of fear, and Mepher was not.

The ferret screeched and leapt onto the creatures back, slashing deep furrows into the thick black plates of the spider's back. R'vahr caught himself and ran to the woman, who had an unnatural beauty. With three quick slashes of his razor sharp fangs, the freed her ankle, and noted that it was badly twisted. She tried to limp away, but fell forward, gripping her ankle in pain. R'vahr spun to face the great Tormentor, and was quickly beset by it's glistening fangs and pincer ridden claws.

He ducked as a pincer came at his head, and felt the ground shudder in response. The Tormentor tore great rents onto the earth wherever R'vahr was, and only due to his great physical prowess could the boy survive. Mepher was flung from the spider as it leapt to smash into R'vahr, the ferret flew through the air and smashed into a large tree. He whimpered in pain then fell limp. R'vahr leapt to the side, attempting to save himself from being crushed by the great monster, but was not fast enough. A great pincer grasped his thigh and pulled him in. Without a moment's hesitation he slashed down with his left fang, slicing cleanly through the limb that held him. He fell onto the earth with a thud, and tried to roll to his feet.

As he came onto his knees, a piercing pain wracked his right shoulder. He turned to see one of the spider's spear like pincers shoved viciously into his flesh. His eyes slowly moved from the pincer, to the cavernous maw, which dripped with hunger, then to the cold, dead eyes. He felt his arm go numb, he felt his life drip away with a now steady flow of blood that ran down his arm, dripping and pooling on the forrest floor at his knees. that fell from the creature's open mouth. With a roar he slammed both of his fangs into the creature's eyes, twisted the blades toward the sky, and ripped upwards. The tormentor fell limp, then writhed in its death throes.

R'vahr rose shakily, and came to the girl. His body was succumbing to the shock and blood loss that the great gaping wound had caused, he knew he would soon die. He could feel himself grow cold. He whistled softly, and Mepher, who had risen moments earlier, came to his side. Taking strength from what must have been a divine source, R'vahr lifted the women, who had fainted with terror and pain, onto his ragged shoulders. With a determination above mortal will, he began to walk.

He was only twenty peds from Vezash when he finally crumpled into a mass of bleeding, wounded R'unorian.

He awoke in a mud hut. He was weary and in pain, his shoulder throbbed , and was covered in thick bandages. Mephér was curled up on his chest, he could feel the warm flesh weigh down on his breathing and was comforted. The tribe’s members had tried to evict the ferret but had gained only a few light burns for their efforts. Eventually seeing that Mephér meant no harm, they let him be. Mephér gave a drowsy squeak and rubbed his muzzle on R'vahr's cheek then fell back down into a light slumber.

The woman he had saved came to visit him soon after he awoke, and he learned that she had watched over him as he had recovered from his wounds. She was the daughter of the chieftain. He thought her voice was beautiful, and was glad that she visited him often. They would talk and laugh, she would brighten his days of confinement, and he felt closer to her than any other human in the world. His loneliness ebbed away, and for a time he felt at peace, and full of life and joy.

A week after the adventure, R'vahr recovered enough to walk around the city, and was brought once more to the Chieftain. The man asked for forgiveness, and told R'vahr that he had underestimated the boy's heart. He asked if there was anything R'vahr wanted. The nor'sidian youth replied that he wanted only to become a part of the eagle's talon clan.

He was named Kinrev S'Vern, or Hunter in Darkness, for his ability to hunt at night and day, as a shadow of his prey. The robes were retrieved, as were the rest of R'vahr's items, and the hunter set for a long stay.

He grew to know Lethia, the daughter, and he began to fall in love with her. They spent all their days together. She taught him of her people, and their ways. In return, he told her of his own people, and how his life was before. She could not understand why he would leave, and would joke of his wild heart. He would simply supply a seductive grin in response.

For six more months he stayed with the Eagle clan, learning everything they could teach him. The hunt became an act of spiritual progression, instead of lust and consumption. R'vahr learned their tongue and began to learn how to speak to the animals. He kept his Fangs in his tent, and instead brought only a throwing spear he had been given by Lethia. He became at peace with his surroundings and at one with nature, instead of always at war with it.

After a year and a half he was deemed ready for the Search for the Spirit. This worried R'vahr because he was unsure of whether the Great Spirit had accepted him as one of the tribe yet, and did not wish to fail at such an important task. He was brought to the Lodge of Purification, and Mephér was told to wait outside. The ferret was sure to eat to his heart's content, so he could last out the ten days with his human companion.

The first few days passed, with Mephér waiting outside and the steam rising against R'vahr's flesh. It felt like the caverns during a thick sulfur storm. That reminded him of one of the great advantages of moving out to Santharia, Mephér no longer reeked like death and acid. The thought brought a smile to R'vahr's lips, and displayed his flashing canines.

Five days passed a hunger grew deep in his gullet and meditation came difficult. He examined his life and what he had become. He examined what he wanted out of his existence, and why he existed. The grin still curved at the left corner of R'vahr's mouth, pulling it maybe a grain higher than usual. He thought hard of his life and his purpose. His future worried him and he wondered if this was it. Would he always be here in Vezash? He asked the Eagle for his help, for an aid. He needed a spirit guide that could help him rise to greatness. He realized that he wanted even more.

For ten days R'vahr meditated. He searched his soul for his spirit and felt a deep connection there. It was powerful and strong as steel bonds. He looked within his mind and searched his feelings, allowing his body and mind to become one. On the tenth day he looked out and saw that Mephér was gone. This surprised him, as it was not the ferret's way to back down once he had decided to do something. For Mephér a promise was a solemn oath, and while the ferret could not talk, he could communicate as all animals can, and R’vahr was fairly sure the ferret had resolved not to leave. But then again ten days is a long time, he reasoned.

He turned back to his meditation, letting his mind sink into the Great Spirit. It was at this moment that a great stillness came to his heart. He felt a calmness that he had never felt before. All his life he had been afraid of the darkness that enshrouded him, and now he felt at peace with it. In his minds eye he saw a whirlwind of feathers and powerful wings. It was huge and majestic and he could never explain it in any other way.

Two elderly tribesmen came up the steps of the Lodge and presented him with an ancient dagger. Their faces had goodness to them and as R'vahr took the dagger he felt reaffirmed in his will. The handle was carved in the shape of an eagle and he took this as a sign that his prayers had been heard.

R'vahr moved south and east, into Elverground and the Zeiphyrian Forests. He could feel that his mind was greater in some way, and he felt that great things were in the making. There was another part to him now, which was not entirely his. R'vahr could not explain at this point what it was but he could feel that he had it.

For another two days R'vahr lived off the land and continued to move east and south. He could feel a pull in that direction, as if a part of him rested there off in the distance. The trail was burned in his mind, engraved with the feathers and talons of a great eagle. He moved assuredly with the confidence of one who knows, but is not quite sure what it is he knows.

On the night of the second day R'vahr found what he had been searching for, and found that it, or he for that matter, had been with him always. Mephér was lying in a nest of brilliant white feathers. He was in the middle of a clearing and the light shone like some strange green liquid luminescence on his still form. When R'vahr crossed the barrier of feathers, Mephér arose groggily and looked at him strangely. The black ferret had a new look to him, as if he had reached his full potential and was no longer a beast, but now a man of sorts. There was keenness to his eyes and a glint to his hide. It all served to make him seem more alive.

R'vahr spoke to mepher, with images across their respective mentalities, and was spoken too by Mepher. It was too astounding to comprehend, the vision was short and heavenly. He also felt touched. His vision seemed keener, and his wit sharper. This was his chance for glory. He knelt down and prayed to the Taloned Eagle for another day and on the fourth day of his travels he rested, Mephér upon his chest, both wearied deeply and deeply gratified. His eyes were now flecked with gold, and had a depth and precision.

They both returned to the Vezash and R'vahr told the clan of their adventures. Lastly he told Lethia, the chieftain's daughter. After recounting his tale, he asked for her hand in marriage. He could feel her shock, and he could feel her doubt. She told him that she was in his debt for saving her life, but that she could not marry him. He understood in his own way. She was a beautiful princess, and he was a man from a foreign land, he could not stay, it was not his purpose to stay. She could not make him stay. She would need to marry a man of the people, a man to hold her every night, and be by her side. He told her he would return one day, and return for her. Then he set out back north, for Vardynn. He had heard there was turmoil there, and maybe he could find his purpose with those great warriors.

Mepher

Overview:

R'vahr is of course gifted with Mepher. Mepher is a fire ferret with a mischievous heart. He is much larger than your average ferret, standing at 2 palmspans tall and 6 long. He has no fur, instead a black leathery hide protects him from the harmful environment from which he hails. He has sharp black eyes that gleam with a cunning joy, reflecting his thieving heart. He knows how to change his expression to get what he wants, and is especially charming around women.

Appearance:

Mepher is long and lithe, much like his companion. His skin is darker than a moonless night, and smooth as silk. The tip of his tail burns with pale blue flames, which dance in the wind. His eyes are intelligent and burning, yet cheerful and charming. His lips seem to smile in a very human way. His fangs are pale white, like glistening stars against his dark hide, and have a silvery tint to them. His curved digging claws are much the same, strands of silver run along the grain.

Personality:

Mepher is remarkably intelligent, as many ferrets are. Because of this, and his rodent appearance, he often shows more wit, guile, and intuitiveness then is expected of him.
Beset with a strange affliction of greedy paws, the ferret has been known to use his intellect and dexterity to make off with what might not be his. Shiny coins and food are on the top of his list. He loves to charm women into giving him metallic objects or fish, both of which he covets.

The scorcher does not like to fight, and would rather find some female ferret to cuddle up with then fight off some drunkard male. He enjoys comfort and food and fun. A rogue in all senses of the word, Mepher is sometimes more human than ferret.

Strengths:

- Mepher is flexible and agile. He can easily get into small holes and cramped spaces. He is quick on his feet and can scamper faster then most men can run.

- Scorchers exude toxins, and are immune to almost any poison.

- When fueled with excess sulfur, Mepher can light his tail with a blue flame. The small fire can provide light or warmth, and burn foes in a pinch.

- Ferrets are skilled thieves, and have been stealing shiny things from humans for hundreds of years. Mepher uses a mixture of charm, cunning, and dexterity to obtain coins, food, and other items of value.

- Mepher’s bones, teeth, and claws are usually bonded with excess metals. They are not as strong as steel, but stronger by far than normal bones. His claws are amazingly sharp and his teeth are like needles.

Weaknesses:

- Mepher needs a constant supply of minerals to stay healthy. He needs the rare metal, Magnesium, for the proper bonding of metal to calcium bone structure. Without it he can become very ill.

- Mepher requires complex toxins usually found in volcanoes. Sulfur is used in the synthesis of many important chemicals that keep his body in balance and helps with the lighting of his tail. When he does not ingest proper amounts of sulfur he grows very ill as his body's roiling acids begin to tear him apart from within, this of course is the extreme case. If he replenishes his stores before reaching a coma state, then his body will balance itself and begin to heal within the week. More commonly he cannot light his tail by his own will.
-Metals are of course somewhat difficult to get a hold of in the large quantities that Mepher requires in order to lace
his bones with metal.

-Because of the toxins that he expels through his skin, Mepher can have a pungent smell, which attracts any creature
with a nose to his position, and also can repel potential friends.

I know where you're hiding, I may have no eyes, but you reek of fear. You are a stain upon my senses. I can feel you shiver against the cold, I can hear your breath escape your lips, and I can taste the sweat on your brow. With that in mind, you have reason to be deathly afraid.

-R'vahr the Hunter

Edited by: Talia Sturmwind at: 3/16/06 20:36