At a glance, Mercy is quite beautiful. Her tall body is firm and lithe. Her brown hair is dark, long and smooth. Upon closer inspection, one begins to notice there is something not quite right, that there is something off about her. One sees the scars inching out below the pieces of leather armor. Her right eye is a deep pool of brown, her left, a sickly green pupil in a jaundiced pool of yellow. Moreover, there is a feralness about the eyes. One begins to realize that this beauty is an untamed beast.

Mercy

Neutral-Evil Female Human

Barbarian 1 Fighter 2

STR:17 DEX:17 CON:17 INT:14 WIS:16 CHA:13

Hp:40 Saves: F/9 R/4 W/4 Initiative:+5 Speed:30

AC:19 (Breastplate,Ring of Protection +1) Touch AC:14 Flat-Footed AC:16

Class Features: Fast Movement,Illiteracy,Rage 1/day

Feats: Weapon Focus(glaive),Extra Rage,Thug,Power Attack,Cleave,Short Half

Languages: Common,Elven,Orc (note:spent extra skill points to counteract illiteracy)

Skills:Climb(+9),Intimidate(+9),Jump(+9),Listen(+7),Ride(+8),Survival(+7),Swim(+8)

Weapons: Glaive,Heavy Flail, Javelin

Equipment of Note:Cloak of Resistance +1, Ring of Protection +1

NOTE:picture obtained from deviant art and is called “Female Turkish Warrior” by Egek

Mercy

Her first memories of life were of blood. Raiders from the Dark Lands invaded her small farming village. The village was spared annihilation by a band of warriors, oathed in service to the local governor. These warriors, known as the Brotherhood of Kensai, were too late to save the little girl’s family. They took the young girl, who was drenched in her parents’ blood and hacking at a dead beast with a fire poker, to their mountain retreat.

For the next ten years, the Kensai called her sister, as was their tradition, and taught her the path of Oneness. Each warrior strove to be one with themselves and one with the weapon he or she bore. They believed that the warrior’s soul manifested in a particular shape, as a particular weapon. The young sister was introduced to the glaive. She was taught how to fight.

While the young sister was toning her body and honing her skills, the Brotherhood was facing other challenges. The local lord, whom the Kensai served, passed away and was replaced by his first born son. During the times of peace, the son did not see a reason to continue funding the Brotherhood. The warriors grew frustrated. They were seen as superfluous, a useless remnant of the past. It was in this time of need, when the Kensai had no one to serve and no enemies to fight, that they were approached by their previous enemies.

Late in the night, the Master was approached by a figure cloaked in night. The creature asked for the loyalty of the Kensai, asked for the Brotherhood to be his personal assassins. When the Master agreed, they heard a young woman scream in anger. The sister could not allow herself, or her brothers and sisters, to fight along with those who had slaughtered her family. The Master easily slapped aside her weapon. Out of the night-clad creature snaked a tail, entangling the young sister. The tail ended in a sharp barb, its point poised above her eye.

The creature laughed and spoke of the sister’s righteous anger. It said that her anger would turn to uncontrollable rage as it stabbed its poison barb into her eye. The poison’s effect was immediate. Rage and blood filled her, wrenching her weapon from the Master’s grasp, the sister struck out. The Master of the Brotherhood interceded in defense to his new lord. The fight between master and student raged through the compound, awakening all of the Kensai. On a bridge, overlooking a fast moving river, the fight concluded. Unable to sustain the many slashes and hacks, the bridge snapped, dropping both into a watery doom.

The wayward sister awoke on the riverbank, bruised, cut, and choking up water, barely alive. Here, a traveling priest of Fharlanghn came upon her. He took her in and cared for her wounds. It was a For lack of a name, he and his family called her Fortune’s Mercy, or Fortune for short. Bruises healed, as did her other wounds, everything save for the eye that the night-clad creature stabbed. The eye was still a sickly green color, compared to the other soft brown color. The rage, too, constantly plagued the young woman. Small things, a dropped cup an unkind word from the local boys, pushed her to act violently. Only her training kept her from unleashing the full rage.

Time passed normally for a while, but the dark minions of Sharnath were always on the move. Eventually, monsters came to the temple of the priest of Fharlanghn. Fortune took up defense of her new home. This defense came with a price, an unexpected cut brought her rage to the surface. When the bloody rage calmed, Fortune was horrified that now only had she killed the monsters, but also the family she had been living with for months. Frightened of the consequences, the young woman ran away.

Her travels led her to the city of Cael. There she used her skills to struggle to survive. She fought whoever she had to and took whatever she had to in order to live. Over time, she changed, the roiling storm and the constant exposure to the darkness transformed her. Once she was called Fortune’s Mercy by a kind priest, who didn’t realize his saving act was his doom. Now, she goes by Mercy, a joke among the local thugs, calling her that in the same vein as calling a fat man Tiny.