Dalyika

Asian facial features with high cheek bones reddened by wind
Bronze complexion but lighter than most Hyrkanians
Long pin straight black hair
Light brown eyes
5'7", athletic slender frame

At first look, Dalyika blends in well with her Hyrkanian people. But without the coursing sun and the wind whipping across her ruddy face as she storms across the plain on Jelad, her closest companion, it's clear she is different than her people.

Her childhood is filled with memories of sweet fresh milk, the soft hair on a horse's back, and the quiver of her bow and her scrawny arms when she shot her first arrow across the plain. She need only turn to her Hyrkanian mother and father - both strong and unyielding in their honorable ways - to feel the pride swell in their eyes at what she's accomplished thus far in her training.

But a year ago, Dalyika was knocked off Jelad - a rarity especially for her - after she experienced a curious flashback. She had suddenly become a small child who was inside some kind of red box. The box opened and she was filled with terror as indiscernible evil shapes leaned in towards her. But as if sucked into a wind tunnel, now she was flying - no moving quickly, very quickly - away from the ominous shapes. The neighing of horses signaled their escape.

When she had awoken, Dalyika was lying on her back on the ground with Jelad gently nibbling her nose. What had she just seen?

Over the year, the flashbacks continued at irregular intervals - each more mysterious than the previous - until finally a breakthrough. Dalyika discovered that the red box was actually a caravan pulled by horses, and it had been moving west.

Sadly, Dalyika knew the burning compulsion in her breast would not sleep until she discovered what it was that pulled her ever westward.

Although her parents spoke of the dangers across the Vilayet Sea, Dalyika knew that before she could truly serve her people with whole heart and flesh, she must uncover the mystery of her past. And so at 18, she departed.

Although the crossing of the Vilayet Sea was torturous for Dalyika as she longed for hard dirt under her feet, she was filled with exhilaration and expectation when she landed in Turan. Unfortunately, the weeks passing through were long and hard and full of dangers and dishonorable men Dalyika had never encountered before.

One night while sleeping under the dark sky, Dalyika awoke to the sound of whispers all around her. She deftly crouched up but found her bow gone. She was truly in danger. Her only chance was to whistle for Jelad and try to escape. She whistled but to her horror, Jelad did not come. Instead a short fat man appeared out of the shadows with a bloodied sword in his hand.

Dalyika dropped to her knees. Jelad was dead.

Some more men began to move in around her as she crouched there, but right before a hand touched her, she lashed out like a wild animal. Full of vengeful bloodlust, Dalyika attacked each of the men but was eventually overwhelmed by their numbers.

The man was a slaver named Baynor. Dalyika was captured like so many others who traveled through Turan. Every second of every day, Dalyika vowed to avenge Jelad. Every night, she comforted herself with her dark fantasies.

Then one night, the opportunity finally arrived.

She had been summoned to him. Appearing docile, and still handcuffed, Dalyika allowed him to begin to undress her. When she could feel his acrid breath on her neck behind her, she summoned all the rage she had stoked for months, and like a blazing wind she elbowed him in his gut, whipped around his doubled-over body, and wrapped the chains from her cuffs around his thick neck.

The guards outside heard only the grunting and labored breathing of Baynor. All seemed as it should they chuckled to themselves, while Dalyika found a strength she didn't know she had as she choked the wretched life out of this evil man.

Like a bloated fish, Dalyika stood up and spit on the corpse. Fortunately it wasn't difficult to find the key to her cuffs on the key ring in Baynor's pockets. As she was about to sneak out a back entrance, she spied a large trunk peeking out from under the bed. It took her only a few minutes to find the right key and open the trunk, and soon be reunited with her Hyrkanian bow and scimitar.

Now she was truly ready to leave this hellish place and never allow herself to succumb to imprisonment again.

She found her way to the Road of Kings and finally arrived at the town of Ketha. She had lost everything so would have to find employment. Although it took incredible persistence on her part, and just desperation in the instance of her first employer, her unparalleled skills as a marksmen soon gained her enough of a reputation that she found work as a scout for some local warlords.

During her time in Zamora, Dalyika heard of riches and fortunes lost and gained in the capital of Shadizar further west.

And west she would have to go.

Agility - d10
Smarts - d4
Spirit - d4
Strength - d8
Vigor - d4

Guts - d6
Riding - d8
Shooting - d8
Notice - d4
Fighting - d4
Tracking - d4
Survival - d4

Edges:
Steady Hands
Trademark Weapon
Quick

Hindrances:

Code of Honor (Major): Barbaric
Vengeful (Minor)
Illiterate (Minor)

Weapon:
Hyrkanian Bow: 15/30/60, 1 ROF, 2d6 damage
40 arrows
Scimitar

Equipment:
Lacquered Leather Armor (same as Quilted Jerkin) - 2 lb
Silk Shirt - .5 lb
Spiked Cap - 1 lb
Backpack - 2 lb
Flint
Lock of horse hair