Farya the Wolfborn
"We are all fragile things. But we kill, we take, we live. That makes us strong."
Farya
"A small chested wildling woman with a toned body and cut back muscles. She's primitively dressed from head to toe in furs, wraps, and wraps of torn cloth from her favored game. Scars dot her body from various sources; Claws, blades, and arrows. A wooden wolf mask seems to be permanently fixed to her face"
Wolyo
"A young direwolf with intelligence glinting in its eyes, decorated in a protective harness created with carved hardwood plates and hides. It is large enough to be straddled, but not large enough to cast a shadow over a man."
FARYA ♦ 27 ♦ FEMALE ♦ TRUE NEUTRAL
Ω O R I G I N S:
I have little personal memory of my origins. What I know has been told through my mother’s jaws. And from her tongue, I shall lay bare to you. I was a delicate creature. A suckling babe, crying for the milk of her mother – a kind woman with demons grasping for her heart. She is-was the mate of a wealthy man – by convince of their pack. And… the driver of souls into damnation. The smell of poppy clung to her. The sweetness of the scent – heighted by a fanged smile lured many into her clutches. They desired escape. They disliked the world for what it gave them. Despair, disease, loss. She obliged for a grave pittance. Lambs walking into the jaws of a wolf.
You shall do well to suspend surprise, for her fate was of her own creation. She rode a wheeled construct into the depths of a forest. She carried the babe. And lusting men, stinking of the city’s streets, overtook her protectors and her. Nature’s will came that day. For the strong took from the weak. Poppy, money, warmth, lives, and the babe. The mother lane slain and stripped of her worldly possessions. The baby for ransom, in hope of gold and jewels from the father.
Those lusting eyes only saw the glint of steel and fire in the night before the river turned red. The man was no fool. He had power. He’ll take me back – whatever the cost. But I never came back. For my takers have left me in a cave. The cadaver of the one whom guarded me decorated the floor. My new takers, my new pack, found me. The children’s teeth thirst for more blood. But my mother saw only a child that new nothing of the world’s beauty, and its horrors.
And through the years that child grew. She danced with a bow and the grace of a cat. Her arrows weaving through the air to fell their mark. A huntress forged by wolves. A wolf in lamb’s clothing.
My mother’s story has beauty. Nature’s will laid out. But most importantly, the story was also a parable. If you are strong, whatever you desire will become yours. A lesson that girl took to heart.
I left my pack by their graces to find a hunting grounds to make my own. I’ve traveled for many moons, alone. Found a large forest ripe with game. Another wolf as well. A massive wolf, whom I’ve built a strong bond with, one I do not completely understand. We are nearly one. I’ve taken to calling him Wolyo. An act forged with great sentiment. He became my new teacher – unlocked the secrets of rituals, spells, and language. No nights were cold, no dreams fretful, no hunt alone. He became my trusted friend, I became his.
Together, we laid claim to that forest. Together, we hunted wild life for food, trespassers for sport. We hear whispers on the winds of us. They speak of us, forging stories and legends. Of a maiden with a bow, and a great wolf with dagger-like teeth. A great wealth is to be had, and we are their gate keepers. There is truth to this. We collect what they find valuable from the fallen and stored it away. They hunt us, we in turn - them. Shall we be bested, we’ll recognize their strength. And our hoard is theirs to own.
You shall do well to suspend surprise, for her fate was of her own creation. She rode a wheeled construct into the depths of a forest. She carried the babe. And lusting men, stinking of the city’s streets, overtook her protectors and her. Nature’s will came that day. For the strong took from the weak. Poppy, money, warmth, lives, and the babe. The mother lane slain and stripped of her worldly possessions. The baby for ransom, in hope of gold and jewels from the father.
Those lusting eyes only saw the glint of steel and fire in the night before the river turned red. The man was no fool. He had power. He’ll take me back – whatever the cost. But I never came back. For my takers have left me in a cave. The cadaver of the one whom guarded me decorated the floor. My new takers, my new pack, found me. The children’s teeth thirst for more blood. But my mother saw only a child that new nothing of the world’s beauty, and its horrors.
And through the years that child grew. She danced with a bow and the grace of a cat. Her arrows weaving through the air to fell their mark. A huntress forged by wolves. A wolf in lamb’s clothing.
My mother’s story has beauty. Nature’s will laid out. But most importantly, the story was also a parable. If you are strong, whatever you desire will become yours. A lesson that girl took to heart.
I left my pack by their graces to find a hunting grounds to make my own. I’ve traveled for many moons, alone. Found a large forest ripe with game. Another wolf as well. A massive wolf, whom I’ve built a strong bond with, one I do not completely understand. We are nearly one. I’ve taken to calling him Wolyo. An act forged with great sentiment. He became my new teacher – unlocked the secrets of rituals, spells, and language. No nights were cold, no dreams fretful, no hunt alone. He became my trusted friend, I became his.
Together, we laid claim to that forest. Together, we hunted wild life for food, trespassers for sport. We hear whispers on the winds of us. They speak of us, forging stories and legends. Of a maiden with a bow, and a great wolf with dagger-like teeth. A great wealth is to be had, and we are their gate keepers. There is truth to this. We collect what they find valuable from the fallen and stored it away. They hunt us, we in turn - them. Shall we be bested, we’ll recognize their strength. And our hoard is theirs to own.
Ω A B I L I T I E S / S K I L L S:
//ABILITIES:
//SKILLS:
//LIMITATIONS:
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ Feline’s Grace | Farya is startling graceful and dexterous. When relaxed, she drifts gracefully through the grass like a noble. Upright and to the step of a rhythm. When she prowls, she slinks like a predator with perfect balance. When she fires her bow, she does with the glory of a dancer. Swapping targets with a pirouette, and repositioning with a twirl, or a flip. And when running, she makes long strides with instinctive care in each step, or soars through the air when running on all fours.
◼ Apex Predator | Unlike most, Farya came to rely heavily on all of her senses working at their peak. She has better hearing, sense of smell, sensitivity to touch, and taste than most other humans. Naturally she’ll struggle with those who spent a lifetime hiding, but those few will gain her respect.
//SKILLS:
◼ Eternal Huntress | Farya had spent most of her life hunting. And like wise that gives her a lifetime to hone her tracking, stalking, and marksmanship. Those whom become Farya’s and Wolyo’s next target, will never live to tell the story of a close encounter with the two.
◼ We Hunt Together | Both Farya and Wolyo are no strangers to teamwork, and greatly desires a pack of their own. Those in their care would not need to fear about their flanks, or worry about being left to die.
◼ Nature’s Gift | Farya had learned some basic druid spells and rituals from her companion, Wolyo. While druid magics are worth fearing. Her spells are mostly utility, or ineffective in combat. Along with this gift, she holds a natural ability to speak with beasts.
//LIMITATIONS:
◼ Novice Druid | Farya had such a short time to learn the spells she knows. Practice and experimentation is the only reason why she can consistently cast such spells. However, she does not have the benefit of building up her endurance through years of practice like other spell casters. And more complicated spells she picks up later could potentially fail at a much higher rate than normal.
◼ Uneducated | Growing up in the wild often means you do not get the same opportunities. Farya is incapable of reading, writing, and some intermediate levels of arithmetic. She has little understanding of how machinery works.
//WEAKNESSES:
◼ A Wolf Is Not a Pet | Civilization is a foreign concept to Farya. She has no sense of modesty, a lack luster understanding of laws, bare minimum humanity, and some how managed to not understand some of the nuances of human emotions like love. That's right, ask for her hand in marriage, and she will look at you with confusion. The only things civil about her, is the fact she wears clothes for utility purposes only, grooms and bathes on a regular and strict basis, and has a strong grasp of language.
◼ Two Fangs One Maw | It would be almost accurate to say they are two halves of one person. Linked in mind and soul, with a deep ingrain trust - they're sworn to be life long companions and to never leave the other behind. Separation will cripple them both with grief, loneliness, and an inexplicably strong desire to regroup with one another no matter the cost.
◼ Lone Wolves Don't Survive | The two’s greatest weakness is their dependence on one another. Like many wolves, the individual will not survive for long. They overcome their weaknesses by covering for each other’s. The two work together like a well-oiled machine. Isolating one will force them into a bad spot if the other can't get to them.
◼ Identity Masquerade | She almost always wears her mask. And very rarely takes it off. The loss of it could potentially cause her to lock up in fear, or frantically search for it.
Ω N O T E S:
◼ Primitive tatoos line her body. Rather than being various tribal symbols, they are few long sweeping, and broad swirling blue lines. They seem to be all connected together. They swirl around her kalves, thighs, stomach, and end crawling up her back to her shoulders. The same pattern is repeated on the furs and rags of cloths she wears in the exact same locations.
◼ Farya wears a mask. The mask is an intricate black painted wood carving resembling a stylized wolf. A blue marking exists on the forehead in a similar style to the markings that covers her body.
◼ Her Primary Weapon is a long bow, well made and decorated with trophies like fangs, claws, and feathers. Her back up is a sturdy primitive knife with a large ring on the hilt.
