Anori "Hunter" Reynolt

[Shaggy311]

Login: Shaggy311
Character: Hunter Reynolt

Orphaned at the age of 7 when her mother succombed to illness, young Anori Reynolt was taken in by the priests at the temple of Ilmater. Her father had left before Anori was born, a scout for some mercenary group. Rumors had it that he had been killed on some foolish mission.

After several years at the monestary, Anori ran away. She found the impoverished subserviant life of the priests there less than enticing. She started taking on odd jobs in the villages and towns she travelled through.

When she stayed anywhere for long, she would usually find work at the local taverns as a bouncer. While tall and lean, Anori was uncommonly strong. And even drunk, most men were hesitant to hit a young girl. While this typically paid for her boarding, Anori found her calling in another line of work, as a bounty hunter. Her smile and smooth talk got information that other more hardened men were unable to get. She used her appearance to her advantage on most occassions. It was in this line of work that she first adopted the name Hunter. Hunter worked quickly and with little attention, a thing her employer's often found appealing. What they did not find so appealing was the overzealousness that sometimes came over her at times. Many a criminal was brought back battered and bruised, sometimes even maimed. This compulsion began the myth and rumor in the darker corners of the towns she stayed in long.

One night, Hunter left the tavern and made way to her apartment for the night. She had a few ales at the end of the evening, relaxing as it turned out to be a quiet one. No blood sullied the tavern floor that night. Just as she turned a corner, she was confronted by four large men, wearing light armor and carrying clubs. Acting quickly, she lunged out and struck the nearest in the neck. Her force nearly crushing his throat, the man slumped over in pain, dropping his weapon. However, in her strike, she left herself open to the others and was quickly grabbed. She was beaten to unconsciousness, left lying in a pool of her blood. She awoke on her own the next morning, having been pulled into an alley, no one had noticed her. Blood caked on her face, she pulled herself up and stumbled home.

The following week, rumors spurred around town of a vigilante in their midst. Three men, rumored to be thugs and robbers, were found severely beaten and tied up at opposite corners of the town. All three men had participated in Hunter's beating but that was known by no one as she did not seek aid with the local authorities. All three men had been mutilated, their hands severed at the wrists. While many called for the vigilante's head, several, many of whom who had been victimized by these men in the past, were celebrating their punishments. The last of the men who assaulted Hunter was saved, ironically, by the local militia captain. His cries for help before being knocked unconscious drew the captain's attention. The captain arrived to see Hunter standing over the felled man. She was promptly arrested and sentenced to death for attempting to kill the man. They never even bothered to get the girl's name.

Hunter's death would undoubtedly draw quite a crowd. The captain decided that a private execution would be more suiting. He had two of his men take the prisoner out deep into the woods. A rope was cast over a tree and a noose around her neck. She was hoisted up and the opposite end tied to a stump. She struggled as she could, but her hands and feet were bound. The militia left as her kicking and squirming ceased. Everything then went dark for Hunter.

She awoke, thinking herself to have surely passed on to some afterlife, but the pain in her aching limbs and neck told her that was not the case. If she felt pain, then she surely must be alive. She had a grim thought of the Ilmaterans and an uncoscious smile dawned on her face. She realized that while still aching, her limbs were free. Adjusting to the morning light filtering through the trees, she saw the tattered remains of the rope that bound her at ankle and wrist were lying on the ground. The noose hung loosely around her neck, having been cut just a foot down from the knot. A note lie in the grass, only inches from her face. Picking it up, she read a single word written in elven. It read 'Teshmeeat', a word that Hunter had heard before but could not remember where, perhaps from her mother? It meant, "Hold onto the light." On top of the note was a coin with a two-faced head, the symbol of Hoar, the Doombringer.

Two months had passed since his ordeal with the crazy girl with the blade in the alley that night. Jonathan rubbed the scar on the underside of his wrist. How close had he been to ending up like the rest of his gang? Thunder outside the window snapped Jonathan from his thoughts. He lay on the bed and tried to push the thoughts of the girl and his maimed brothers from his mind. He smiled. The thunder usually helped. As he was about to fall asleep, the feeling of cold metal on his neck sprung his eyes wide. The occassional lightning lit up his assailant. It was the girl from the alley. No cowl this time, her cold blue eyes stared into his own, fiery red hair spilling down around her face. The last thing Jonathan heard before passing from the material plane was "Justice be done."

The rain pelted onto the caravan. The driver turned to the young girl.

"You sure you want to stop here? Peltarch is just up the road a ways. I don't mind going a bit out of our way."

The girl smiled assuringly. "I will be fine," she said and walked into the village of Norwick.

[Vilehelm]

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