Author: renninator
PC in: Horde vs Red Hand
Race: Cat-Anthro
Level: 6
Game System: D&D (3.5)
Is Public?: Yes
Is Visible?: Yes
Description
When risen to her back legs, Tora stands no taller than thirty-eight inches. This is excluding her tufted ears and long, fluffy tail. From tail tip to pink nose her rich orange fur is striped heavily in black, with lighter colouring along the line from her chin down her belly. Her eyes are a dark, intense green.
Her armor is mismatched; a pair of special crafted pawless gloves, set with tiger claw weaponry, and a dull mithril chain shirt. A pack is slung across her lithe frame next to a short bow.
She has the darting look of someone easily distracted, despite her feline saunter.
Bio
Born Kalea Ammon to Amir and Kalare Ammon; two adventure loving, merchants in their spare time, half elves. Her childhood was steeped in the ways of treasure hunting and all the connotations that go with it. An only child, with no extended family to speak of (or that would be spoken to) Kalea found herself trailing her parents into abandoned dungeons and secret spaces more often than not.
One summer of her late twenties found her crouched in front of a particularly uncooperative lock while Amir and Kalare finished scouting out the tower that they’d recently come across. In their excitement at the already pocketed valuables from what appeared to be an abandoned spire of stone, the married pair hadn’t thought to prepare for any confrontation.
The satisfying click of Kelea’s successfully opened lock was greeted with a bone-chilling shriek that echoed through the stones instead of the paired applause she had been expecting.
Her feet tore through the corridors and stairways, blind to everything but the source of the cry. The scene that greeted her wildly-beating heart was gruesome and terrible. Amir lay motionless, in death, beneath the form of his killer: a hideous furred creature of tooth and claw.
Her mother was nowhere to be seen, but there was a door at the farthest side of the room. In either staggering stupidity, or great courage, Kalea darted around the monster that was feasting upon her father and fled up the stairs beyond the door. Enraged shouts followed on her heels, the low, growled and grating words chasing her up the stairs and through the door at the top before she could gain any presence of mind to think.
Blackness, silent and still, embraced her with the single sharp strike of a staff to her temple.
When she woke, she found herself confined and bound, and staring down the beast she had fled. Calm from shock, but still afraid, she could do little more than sit and await the punishment lavished upon her. She did not have to wait long for the return of the dark robed man who leveled accusations against her.
They’d invaded his home and his privacy, stolen his things. Her father died justly, he said. Her mind was reeling as he informed her of her mother’s end as well. His free hand stroked the creature’s nappy mane before drawing a finger through the blood not yet dried at it’s maw.
They wouldn’t be coming back, either. Ever. It was an eater of flesh, bone, and souls. And it had eaten well. A barghest, he called it.
—
She was subjected to experiments and torture for several weeks, each resulting in the robed man’s displeasure and frustration. Until at least, he burst through the doorway and threw open the door of Kalea’s cage.
Pain wracked her frame. The sound of her bones snapping and crumbling and grinding filled her ears. Her skin itched and burned and she was suddenly too warm. Everything was all at once louder, brighter, and sharper. Then blackness came again, but when she woke, the world was much different.