About Alia Wolfsdottir
Temporary modificators: Hasted: Ref +12, AC 27 (25 if she fires her bow)
Female Human Ranger 7
Feats Deadly Aim, Dodge, Endurance, Manyshot, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Rapid Shot, Weapon Focus
Skills Acrobatics +8, Climb +9, Diplomacy +1, Handle Animal +9, Heal +4, Knowledge: Geography +10, Knowledge: Local +8, Knowledge: Nature +11, Perception +11, Sense Motive +10, Stealth +14, Survival +11, Swim +7
Combat Gear +1 Scimitar, +1 Composite Longbow (+3 Strength), +1 Mithral Breastplate, +1 Buckler, Arrows (x163)
N Medium animal
Init +3; Senses low-light vision, scent; Perception +6
AC 18 (+3 Dex, +4 natural +1 dodge)
Melee bite +5 (1d6+3 plus trip)
Str 14, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Link, Share spells, Evasion
People say you can't grow right without roots. People say you can't grow right when your first memory is that of your family driving you out of your village while your own mother throws the first stone. People say that a 5 year old kid forced to survive on its own it the wild either dies or comes back for revenge. Well, most of the time people are right. But it's only when they are wrong that tales worth to be told arise.
It's summer now and the black fever that killed half the village is gone, gone when the horned kid left the village. It's harvest feast and everybody is dancing around the fires. A young woman is crying silently in the shadows as she has done every night since she forgot what a mother should be. An old hunter is watching her. People say he is mad as he is the only one bold enough to hunt in the desolation when game is scarce. He went there yesterday and he saw the tracks. Tomorrow, he will go back with some furs, a knife and a small bow. That may be enough to get the kid through winter.
"It's so cold here. Even with that fire and the furs, I'm going to die" thinks the kid, huddled in a small cave as the snowstorm rages outside and the fire slowly dies. On the next hill, the gravid she-wolf is fighting a loosing battle against the wind and the snow. She knows there was a cave close to here where she will lay and rest. She barely reaches the cave when her body fails and she collapses right next to the half-frozen kid, clad in wolf furs. The she-wolf suddenly wakes, driven by nature's call and when she rests again, one newborn is avidly sucking. The next day, as the storm is pushed away by strong eastern winds, the new mother awakes with a weird feeling. Two warm bodies are now huddled against her as the kid, driven by the warmth sleeps peacefully by her.
Over the next years, the old hunter often watched the kid play and hunt with the cubs before his legs and eyes fail him and he can not reach the desolation any-more.
One night, exactly ten years after the black fever, the whole villages awakens when alarms are raised. A large group of undead has escaped the desolation and entered the village through a broken gate. Despite their courage, the defenders fall one after another until the last of them is brought down by the two remaining monsters. Between them and the few kids still alive, the old hunter desperately waves a spear when suddenly, one monster is brought down by a wolf-like shape while the other's head is pierced by an arrow. A human shape moves towards the old hunter. "Grand-father", she says enunciating the words carefully as for a language not often spoken, "I'm sorry I came late. I will bring you to safety at first light."
Over the next months, tales of a horned girl and her silver wolf spread through the neighbouring villages. People say that she helps lost travellers and raises alarms when the undead come. People also say that she spends days talking to an senile survivor of the last undead slaughter. People say that the day that old man died, she collected his belonging and left for the desolation. Since then, she has been seen escorting and guiding caravans in and out of the northern side of the desolation.
"Well Swift Paws, the job is done" says the young woman when she enters the northern gate of the Camp escorted by her silver wolf. "Everybody is still alive and we've just lost one mule and two horses", she adds looking at the small caravan that has just entered before her. "But this job is not going to get me where I want. I need to find people willing to go deeper into the desolation to find the roots of the undead uprising. I've spent too much time protecting people when they are attacked but no one can be everywhere at once and as long as this disease is not contained, people lives will be threatened."
Alia Wolfsdottir as she calls herself is a pale skinned young woman with a dark piercing gaze. On her brow, two small ivory horns are seen through her long lightbrown hair. She wears simple grey or brown clothes designed for practical use rather than look. Sure footed, she moves with a predator grace and despite her control, she tends to show her teeth when angry or threatened. While this strange body language is unsettling she has trained herself to interact properly with humans and wants nothing more than integrate herself in human society. Protecting people is her way to prove her humanity, beyond her strange appearance.
Her grand-father also told her that in the villages close to the desolation, babies were sometime born with strange features but were killed at birth. In her case, the horns started growing when she was five.
Loot in the house:
Small black +1 leather armor of the puffer fish,
Small black leather armor (*2),
Small masterwork rapier (*2)
Small masterwork cleaver
30 Small darts,
50-foot silk rope,
a bag of holding I
a potion of hiding
a set of very fine lockpicking tools
two silver urns (worth 20 gp each)
6 rubies (worth 675, 500, 600, 400, 350 275 gp)
a 4'-by-10' tapestry depicting a griffon rampant on a field of clouds
880 iron bits,