Post by superswede on Jun 3, 2010 11:58:44 GMT -5
Name: Mara Stormpelt
Species: Badger
Age (in seasons): 25 springs
Gender: Female
Family: Deceased
Friends: None
Foes: Steelclaw the fox
Fur: Silvery grey, with pearly white stripe; jagged scar across her back from neck to hip
Build: Not as tall as some badgers, though still dwarfs other species; stocky and powerfully built
Clothing: Long dark blue tunic which has a hood, very handy for covering up her scar
Quest: To someday get her vengeance
Battle Cry: None in particular; sometimes she’ll just roar at her enemies, other times she is completely silent.
Weapons: Homemade spear, made of a long, roughly carved branch and broken sword tip
Quirks: Paranoid; very unforgiving; quite self-conscious about her scar
Qualities: Extremely loyal to those who deserve it; patient, focused, and relentless, doesn’t abandon a job until it’s done
Passion/hobbies: Loves plants and flowers, and was quite the gardener once, though she has not thought much about it lately
Weakness/flaw/ Fear/phobia: Horrible cook; very quick temperament; not particularly agile
History: They lived in the forest near the sea, two peaceful badgers and their young daughter. But that was a long time ago. Mara does not remember her father; but for many seasons after, she had nightmares, horrid dreams of blazing fires, the roar of the great male badger, the flash of daggerlike claws.
Mara’s mother fled with her daughter deep into the forest, where they eventually happened upon a small shrew settlement. Here, Mara’s nightmares gradually faded; she became a sweet, cheerful young badger, forgetting the attack which killed her father and destroyed her original home, tilling the soil with her shrew friends and living a peaceful life.
But it happened again. Mara was nearly an adult by then, and a major asset to the community, what with her tremendous strength; her mother was crippled since the first attack, and had difficulties farming, instead making a wonderful nurse for the young shrews. Mara was just returning to the village, when she heard shouts and screams down the river; rushing to the scene, she happened upon a battle between the shrews and a gang of vicious vermin. Armed with nothing but her size and strength, she barreled into the fray, feeling a terrifying sense of hatred towards the rats, weasels, and stoats who dared attack her friends. Never having fought before, she suffered several wounds within a minute, but none were serious enough to slow her down. The shrews slowly retreated towards the camp, being pushed back farther and farther by the vermin gang. Soon they were in the middle of the settlement, and vermin were flooding the little rivershacks, slaughtering innocent beasts.
Suddenly, Mara was face to face with her worst nightmare, literally. A tall, bloodred fox stood in front of her, claws sheathed with curved steel, a grim sword held in one paw. Steelclaw. She recognized him instinctively as the one who murdered her father; and he recognized her. “All grown up,” he sneered at her, “You look just like yer daddy. Shall I carve you up, like I did with him?”
Mara attacked, weaponless and filled with rage. But Steelclaw was the leader of this band for a reason, and he was a highly experienced fighter. His sword flashed in the sunlight; Mara stumbled, and felt a lightning agony as the blade tore through her back, steel grinding against bone. She fell. Lifting her head slightly, she could see the fox through blurred eyes, as he raised his sword to deliver her deathblow. Then there was a shadow, and a sudden heaviness; and she remembered no more of that day.
When she came to, several days had passed since the attack. The shrews told her that they had rallied and managed to drive off the vermin, although half their own number had been mercilessly slaughtered. She was also told that when she fought Steelclaw, her mother had protected her, shielding her daughter with her own body and taking the blow meant for her. The badger mother was buried by the waterside now, along with the fallen shrews.
Mara had lost both parents to the fox Steelclaw; as if that wasn’t enough, the slash on her back took months to heal, causing her endless pain, and leaving a long, jagged scar, a constant reminder of the vermin who had destroyed her life. Gone was sweet, kind Mara; left in her place was bitter, sullen Mara Stormpelt, thirsting for vengeance.
She was told that Steelclaw’s sword had broken when her mother wrenched it out of his paws just as it drove into her heart. Taking the tip, she spent a full day carving out a long, sturdy branch and fixing the swordtip to the end. When the crude but deadly spear was finished, she left her shrews, unable to remain there and be happy any longer. Since then she has traveled, teaching herself to fight, brooding over her revenge. One day, one day she will find the fox, and she will kill him even if it means her own death. Until then, she can bide her time, watching and waiting.