Vonna the Huntress's page

Age 21 yrs Height 5'10" Weight 160 lbs. Hair Black Eyes Green

Beast Master

Some rangers, particularly those in primitive lands or who were raised by animals, have unusually strong bonds with animals. Unique among rangers, they can bond with multiple animals of any kind, creating a menagerie of wild yet loyal creatures, like a strange family.

Infiltrator

Some rangers study their favored enemies and learn their ways, applying this knowledge to their own abilities and using their foes' strengths against them. Infiltrators are willing to walk a mile in an enemy's shoes so as to learn eveything there is to know about their foes in order to more effectively hunt and kill them.

Skirmisher

Many rangers rely on spells, but there are some who eschew aid from divine powers for their own reasons. Skirmishers rely on their wits, their wisdom, and sometimes even instinct to aid in their quests.

Background:

Born to a lower class home outside of Solku, Vonna never knew an easy life. Her father was typically away, taking work where he could find it. Her mother was a fletcher, supplying the defenders of Solku with arrows.

It was tedious eye-straining work, but it earned enough coin to feed herself and her one child, Vonna. When her husband would return from a work trip, they would eat a little better for a while and buy necessities they could not make themselves.

About 7 years ago, while Vonna's father was away came the trouble that would come to be called the "Battle of Red Hail". The gnoll forces were too close by the time defending forces realized and Solku was sealed up in preperation for seige. Many were left outside the walls, sacrifices had to be made.

Vonna and her mother were captured, taken by a particularly intelligent gnoll chieftain. He quickly realized these two were particularly useful, noticing their particular skills. A fletcher and a youth particularly swift on her feet. The youth was as fast if not faster than most of his warriors.

They were separated and each told the other would die if they didn't perform. It was like that for years, and they would not see each other for weeks, maybe months at a time. Her mother making her signature arrows with blue-tipped fletching, dyed with berry juice. Vonna running communication between scouts, war-parties and even tribes.

She paid her dues, studied her enemy and kept them close. Eager to learn everything they had to offer... They took it as a sign of submission, she just wanted to know how to destroy them when the time was right. It was like that, for three years.

Until a huntsman discovered her, this human oddity flitting among gnolls. He was a burly man, accompanied by animals... several of them. He had a preference for large two-handed weapons, a tracker and scout. A ranger. It's what she had been doing for 3 years, ranging.

He rescued her, she resisted for fear her mother would die. He convinced her to join him and his band in attacking the chieftain's village, rescuing her mother and destroying the village itself. They destroyed the village, but her mother had been dead months. And, her hatred for gnolls grew, sharpened and became more focused.

Having nowhere to go, she joined this... ranger. And, learned from him... adapting his ways to her higher agility. She especially liked his skill with animals, treating them as equals.

But, after just short of a year... he succumbed to his own reckless style. A bit over zealous, his whole group was killed when they took on a seemingly weaker force of gnolls.

As she surveyed the bodies, she examined the arrows... force of habit. They all had blue-tipped fletching. Her mother's signature. It was the work of that chieftain, he must have survived a year prior.

She knew what she had to do...

Appearance:

Long and lithe, Vonna cuts a striking silhouette at just under 6 feet tall. Long straight black hair frames piercing green eyes, that unfortunately look out upon the world with understandable distrust.

Serviceable sandy stone colored studded leather armor is fashionable enough. Armament includes composite longbow, several javelin, scimitar, kukri and dagger. At least one quiver on her person at any given time.

As far as you being nervous, I'd nearly call you a liar, Felliped Leroung. You've never met a lady like me. Then again, imagine how people I don't like feel... gnolls, bandits, corrupt officials, theiving merchants...

We're going to get along just fine. You just have to give us a chance. I don't disappoint, and from the looks of it... you don't either.

Master Leroung, with all due respect... During your career as a Pathfinder you have seen and will see many things that your eyes should be averted from. My body isn't one of them.

"Yes, I am a man of my word."

Theodric maintains strong eye contact, watching and observing for whatever reaction Vonna has to his response.

"Compensation..."

"Among us, you are equal"...

Vonna's eyes narrow, but only in the slightest. "Men of their word are rare to come by. I will take you on your word, Master Stavian. Based on that your offered fee will be accepted, too."

She seems to relax a bit, "I don't have a head for trade and your words confuse me at times. It is not that I cannot understand, just that I am better at other things."

"Thank you for saying I am equal, it does delight my heart. Though I may not show it as most people do. It means that I will defend your life, as I would my own."

"About seven years ago, because of the Battle at Red Hail, outside Solku... if you recall, I lost the life I knew. We were enslaved for years, my father was away on business... my mother died in captivity. Surely, animals do not even deserve to be spoken of like this."

"I don't talk much when working, I am not eloquent. No stories or tales... but I will answer what questions you ask, and offer advice and guidance. What you see is what you get."

She them spread her arms and turns around, offering a full view of her physique. "And you don't need to act like a pious priest or monk. I am comfortable with my body and proud of it. Some think my chest could be a bit bigger... I hear them talk."

Her body is long, nearly six feet tall... long arms and broad shoulders of an archer. Slender and slightly curvy below a narrow waist.

"Anyone is free to look and admire, if they choose. I think you know the people I warn of. You do not seem to be them."

Vonna extends her hand and arm.

She runs her hand through her black hair, thinking.

The area around it. Getting there and getting back, that can be rough... badlands. Bandits, gnolls and the gods know what. If your money's good, I don't care where you need to go. I'll get you there and back.

I'm a tracker and a scout, I've studied gnolls... See, the held me as a slave for years, when I was younger. Made me a runner, so I know how they operate, their tricks. I'm a survivor." Vonna indicates the trio of scars across nearly half her face.

"And unlike many others..." Vonna taps her bow and runs a finger along the exposed length of a javelin. "...I aim to make sure any danger is dealt with before it reaches you."

"I don't owe anyone anything. Money nor favors."

"Trust goes both ways. You pay me for guidance, protection... You don't betray my trust. I keep you alive. Are you a man of your word? If you are, there will be no issues."

"I speak Common, Kelish and Gnoll... that should cover most of it. I am a quick study... if you will teach, I will learn another language."

"My questions, the usual... how many people are coming? What are their skill sets, how many days are we intending to be out? We'll need enough provisions. What do you consider fair compensation?"

"One final thing... Anyone touches me, I have the right to castrate them and feed them their balls." The young woman smiles sweetly.

Stealth 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17, original 17
Intimidate 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19, original 19
Handle Animal 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20, original 20

I stand at the top of the hill. This is Ipeq, the teeming mass of "humanity". I'd rather be in the company of animals. But, I need money. And, apparently the Pathfinders are going into gnoll territory. Getting paid for something I'd do for free. Works for me.

I begin down the hill, and entering the souk I see a company of gnoll merchants just before I smell them. Instinctively, I attempt to become un-noticed until I'm on top of them. My knuckles are white around my bow, but it's not fear... just need something to focus on.

As I get closer, I hear the one with his back to me whisper... Is it her? The big one straightens up, he's tall... but still a gnoll. He knows it and refuses to meet my gaze.

Neutral ground, Vonna. The one that recognized me offers a reminder. He's right, and more importantly he's no slaver. He and his get to live. Nodding, I continue seeking out the Pathfinders.

I see a merchant of baskets, and his hooded, tethered hawk. I move closer, asking to feed it.

If you pay for the food. Sure, why not. He begins to slice thin strips of raw meat. It's our ritual.

Leaning my bow against the stall wall, I take a strip and place one end between my teeth. Removing the hawks hood... he blinks, adjusting to the midday sun and steps onto my offered forearm, limping. He's not lame, but he is injured. I raise my arm and it stretches its wings, flapping them twice. It offers the peddlers and customers alike a screech.

Those near by turn to watch the hawk, to watch us... I'm the girl that feed the hawk from her mouth.

The hawk reaches with its razor-sharp beak and tugs at the strip of meat. I don't release it and he has to work for it, ripping it from my teeth. Two more strips.

He tilts his head at me omniscient eyes peering into mine. He recognizes something, or he's asking why. I don't know which and it makes me sad. I'm not ready yet. So, I pass him back to the merchant. I try to come here every week, to see if I'm ready. I never have the heart to put the hood back on. Scratching the hawk's neck, I move on.

The remainder of the journey is a blur of sights, smells and sounds. This is life, this is the heart of the people.

Eventually, I make it to the Pathfinders.

A tall and lithe, athletic looking female approaches. She is nearly six feet tall and nearly bristling with armament. Longbow, quiver, javelins, scimitar, kukri, daggers... a shield on her shoulder and her armor the color of sandstone.

Past-the-shoulder raven mane frames exquisite and inquisitive emerald eyes above a square jaw. A trio of scars rake across her beautiful face, just missing an eye. The eye itself peering back between two of the scars. Nearly healed, the scars adding character more than indicating damage.

I am Vonna. I have come to understand you need my services, precisely as much as I need your employ.