|Race||Human (Princess of Wolves)|
|Stat||Base Value||Current Value||Modifiers|
|Love of the hunt||3|
|Desire to belong||2|
|Fear of fire||2|
|Guide for hire in the mountains of Thyre||8|
|Natural affinity with animals||8|
|‘Fresh Blood’ – Axemen||6|
|Sweep the Leg||Minor|
|Brutal Slayer (Magical Beasts)||Minor|
|Human Racial Benefit||+1 Heart|
|Pan-Human Racial Benefit||Increased magic defence die size|
|Bloodlust||Gain +2 Mood (up to max) at the beginning of combat|
|Beast World||Cat (+1 Quickness)|
|Vision Quest (Current: Complete!)||Receive a vision quest; upon completion gives +1 heart until next level up|
|Item||Quality||Min Strength||Wealth Level|
|Fang Ropes||1 (6)||2||1|
|Ice Sled (x2)||1||-||1|
|Cold Weather Clothes||0||-||0|
Lonely Wolf. Always Running. Calls to the Moon. The savage tribes of the Waylorns have many names to the the enigmatic Princess of Wolves who roams the roads around Thyre. The girl owes no loyalty to any one clan; nor does any clan lay claim to the girl.
To the civilised folk of the capital, she is known simply as Willow.
Like the rest of her wild kin, Willow grew up as part of the pack. She learnt the ways of the hunt, the social dominance of the alpha, and the language of the howl. But unlike a wolf, she could do other things – scale a sheer cliff face, or pull a thorn from another’s paw. She knew she was different from her brothers and sisters.
As Willow grew, so to did the pack’s territory. As their hunting grounds pushed further out from the forest, the pack would occasionally catch glimpses of other humans on the roads. On such occasions, Willow was met with muddled instincts. The pack avoided humans. They were danger. So why did she feel such curiosity?
Whilst the outskirts of the Vyvarl were plentiful hunting grounds, and lacked the traditional dangers of the deeper areas of the Fyrajj Forest, the region presented its own perils. The quiet farming communities were unused to wolf packs roaming the lands. It only took a few livestock being snatched away before the peasantry took matters into their own hands.
First there were traps. Hidden pitfalls, nets of sharpened wire, and jaws of metal concealed in undergrowth started to appear throughout the hunting grounds. Willow learned how to spot and disable these traps, but not before a number of her lupine siblings had been injured by the devices. After that, the farmers ventured into the woods themselves, carrying sticks that smelt of smoke and sounded of storms. After the first wolf showed up dead, the pack retreated into the more remote, upland forest, where the humans could not easily track them.
Then, one night, the whole woodland burned. Quite how so much of the landscape caught ablaze at once, Willow did not know. There was nowhere to run – Willow’s only route of escape was to climb higher into the trees and make it past the fire by traversing the branches above. The howls of her fellows filled the choking air as she fled, and the flames quickly grew in height. Willow only just managed to make it to the edge of the river before she fell unconscious from smoke inhalation, and fell into the churning waters below.
She awoke in the camp of a Fyrajji savage tribe, half-burnt, half-drowned, but nonetheless alive.
Her saviour was the savage known as Eyes Like Madfire, a prominent warrior of the Standing Spear clan. He had convinced his tribe to adopt the girl as one of their own, and they named her Fell From a Willow Tree. She quickly adapted to life with the tribe, training to fight with fist, spear and sword. Though many grew to fully accept her as one of their own, Willow could not bring herself to fully embrace her new family. Whilst the rest of the tribe would huddle about the campfire and revel in the fortunes of the last hunt, she would skulk on the outskirts of camp, having taken her share of raw meat to eat alone.
As time went on, more of the Standing Spears grew wary of Willow, including even Eyes Like Madfire. He took it as an insult that she would not show gratitude to those who had so generously taken her under their wing, and it made him look weak in the eyes of the elders. Willow was disowned by the clan, though she did not need telling twice to leave. She had always had the sense of being not completely welcome.
The girl scraped together a living on the fringes of the savage territories, venturing further northwards and westwards as she was pushed out from Fyrajj Forest into the cold and lonely reaches of the Waylorns. She could barely stay in one place for more than a few days before another tribal war-band approached and drove her further from the woodlands she had once known as home.
It was only once she reached Thyre that she stopped running. The civilised folk were remarkably accommodating of a stranger in their lands, though she treated them with no shortage of mistrust. Since then, she has made a living as a mountain guide and game hunter, offering her survival experience and the takings of the hunt in exchange for shelter and equipment. A small shack on the very outskirts of the Ghosts in Silver is where Willow can sometimes be found, though she spends the majority of time in the mountains, sometimes not returning for weeks on end.