Nyst Vrral-Seyr the Chosen of Venoms and Vengeance, Nightreaver of Thar-Eris

Role

Chapter 3

I lays dreaming, unders the Stars, whens a Lion comes to mes.

"There is Good in you, Nyst, open the eyes of your soul and seek it out!"

I kills its, cause I ams hungry ands needs to eats.

**

Thens, a Coyote appears ands starts feasting ons my kill.

"Too much be here for you alone, huntress, share the sweet meat
with me and hear my story".

I chuckle ands lets its feed, whilst I do the same. Coyote speaks ofs
a Forest fars in the lands of North, across Mountains ands Oceans,
of absolute Freedom ands many Hunts, ands in the middle of its alls,
a great primordial Tree thats beats with Life Eternal. Refuge.

As I ponders, entire kill has beens consumed by thats ravenous trickster,
and its looks ats mes, grinning. I laughs, longs times iss, thens lets
its departs backs into the Wild.

**

Strange time, this bes, Premonition ands Prophecy chill mes to the core,
ands suddenly, it is upon mes. Black as Night itselfs, eyes burning
withs Crimson.

Frozen. Cants moves.

Bite.
Pain, explodes like fire insides.

Voices.

"The threads of Fate have brought you to us, huntress,
for the Great Hunt is about to begin."

"She is wild but not wise. Strong yet weak. She is NOT ready."

"Worthy or not, she will thrive or she will perish."

"Finds us, must she first, the Flame will BREAK her."

"Or MAKE her."

Wild laughter.

Flash of images hits mes like hammer, strange drow under an enormous Tree,
him be aflame, great city ruins, Witch withs Scythe in hand ands Crow ons
shoulder. I hear its.

Thar-Eris.

The Panther disappears.

Role

Chapter 2

They came for her on a stormy night, her father no longer an obstacle, for
the Dead can do nothing but dream, eternally.

They had proper cause, of course, for she DID murder the shaman's son when he
messed up her hunt and she DID set fire to the shaman's hut, malice
and wicked pleasure guiding her hand.

A murderess and an arsonist, all she was to them now.

"Burns hers!" they screamed as they led her to the center of the encampment,
where a pyre had been prepared.

A step before the fire, they paused and asked her to repent, a final
humiliation.

Nyst smiled and said: "Dark heart, evil mind, that be way of Wild!"
She looked up at the Moon, reflecting the huge fire, almost red, Blood Moon.

Then ..

Wind gets stronger, dogs bark and wolves howl and the ground is trembling
and moving before it splits asunder!

In the pandemonium, she makes her escape.

Role

Chapter 1

A great horned owl flies low over the forest, passing over a figure
that lies sleeping at the root of a majestic redwood tree.
Dawn is soon to break, but is not yet here. An elk walks carefully
amongst the trees, as if it senses danger yet like lightning,
the figure is upon it and with one clean blow takes its life.

"Mrrr. Eats well tonights wills!"

Nyst was lean and wiry, with ebony-colored fur but also a beauty not often
seen amongst the felar, her bright azure eyes being its most prominent
manifestation. She was a hunter of the Wild, a ranger, because her father
had been a ranger and that is all he taught her.

Born under a waxing, gibbous moon, at the hour of the Wolf, there was
trouble brewing even at birth, when her mother died. The tribe shaman
proclaimed that she was Vrral-Seyr, Evil Spirit, and called for her
to be fed to the flames, a fate that would have surely befallen her if not
for her father being chief and her his only child.

She was quick to learn, grew strong and wilder as the years passed.
The same could not be said about her tribe, rooted deep in the primal forests
that laid south of the frigid wastes. Disease was running rampant whilst
prey grew scarce. It was a time when the tribe began to accept travellers,
traders from the cities in the North, seeking fortunes in places long
buried in lore and forgotten by most. They spoke of the miracle of
civilization and sold healing medicines whilst never forgetting to praise
their gods who were merciful, righteous and just.

More years passed, and these encounters became more frequent. The tribe
built shrines and started praying to these new gods of prosperity,
there was even talk, by many, of a move towards the North. Alas, that
did nothing to improve their life. It was as if a disease had gotten
hold of the entire tribe, worming its way closer and closer to the heart,
until everything was consumed and rotten.

There were few who blamed the outsiders for the evils of their time, Nyst
and her father amongst them. She always found prey on her Hunts, and it
was plentiful. The Forest was ever majestic and the Old Gods ever-present,
watching and whispering in the Wind, if only one dared to listen.

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