Basic Information
- Progressive Quori.
- Very powerful dreamer, lost her mentor
Backstory
“Lemme get this straight: You want us to pay you 5 silver to kill that beast that’s stealing our food. And we are meant to believe that you are able to with a bow that has no string, and no arrows.” The tentacle-legged Quori was belligerent, and the Quori with a fox-like mask responded calmly.
“Yes. I am a hunter, and this bow that you just so carelessly criticized happened to belong to one of the most well known hunters in Shtarhold, and it hasn’t gotten any weaker.” Venia raised the bow, to the tentacled Quori seemingly directly at their face, but in reality it was slightly off to the side. The markings on her began glowing yellow, and as she drew the nonexistent string of the bow back, a bolt of lightning appeared between her hand and the bow. The Quori instinctively flinched with fear, and Venia lowered the bow. “You see now, correct?” The tentacled Quori nodded quickly, sped up from his fear, and tossed Venia a bag that clinked with coinage. “Thank you. You said the beast was 1000 feet out of town?”
“Y-yes.” The Quori spoke fearfully now. “You’ll see the crops trampled when you get close.”
“Thank you. I’ll be back in a few hours, with the beast’s head.” Venia quickly turned and left the building. At least that one didn’t comment on my height, like so many others. Sure I have to literally tilt my head back to talk to them, and am likely at least 20 turns younger, but I could also gouge their eyes out. Or shoot them with lightning, burn them to ashes, or put their head on an icicle pike. Whatever, ‘tis the life of a Hunter.
The Dark Strider was biting at the young girl’s face, the girl desperately trying to keep it at bay. The girl felt her arms start to give way, and in a last desperate plea called for help. Just as her arms buckled and the girl accepted her death, she felt the force against her hands weaken, as she easily pushed the darkstrider off of her. As she sat up, she wiped the blood off of her face from the darkstrider’s scratches. She turned to see a Quori covered in armour that left only its blank mask uncovered. She notices the bow, without a string, the Quori is holding, although says nothing. The Quori traces the girl’s eyesight, and explains, “The bow helps me channel my abilities, I don’t need a string or arrows for it.” The girl tilts her head as he mentions his abilities, and the Quori says, “You have powers similar to me, young’n. Where are your parents? It’s risky for most trained fighters to be wandering Shtarhold alone, much less a child.”
The girl stiffened at the Quori’s comment, and replied with seriousness and annoyance. “I’ve been living out here, scavenging for myself since I was 6,” she then crossed her arms in defiance, “and my parents are dead, thank you very much.” The Quori rests the bow on the ground and speaks again, a bit less of an edge in his voice.
“You don’t seem very bothered by that.”
“They died when I was 5, I’m 12 now. I’ve had time.”
“I see. I can sense your abilities, why don’t you travel with me? I can teach you how to harness your powers, and teach you the ways of a Hunter.” Fire leapt from the eyes on her mask as she nodded her head enthusiastically.
“Hunter? That sounds like fun, and it’ll prevent me from having to be saved by old grumps like you.” The Quori seemed a bit worried by the girl’s enthusiasm, but nevertheless introduced himself as Bren, prompting the girl to introduce herself as Venia. Bren led Venia to his camp, and began training her to harness her powers, partly for her safety, and partly for the safety of anyone near a girl who had a literal fire in her eyes when she got excited.
The girl’s talent was impressive, Bren could not deny that. After only 3 turns, Venia was almost as good as he was at hitting shots with his bow, which he had let her use, partly so she didn’t overexert herself, partly because if he didn’t, he had a feeling Venia would find a way to anyway. Although, despite her accuracy, she wasn’t as strong as Bren was with her psionic powers, although the elder hunter had noticed an odd ability in Venia that seemed to allow to strengthen herself and, at time, Bren when in combat, whether sparring, against those who feared their power and would prefer them revert to spirits, or against the beasts of Shtarhold.
“And that’s the last one! Can’t you make this harder?” Venia’s telltale sass interrupted Bren’s thoughts, as he noticed that all the targets he had set up for Venia were burning, pierced by icicles, or clearly struck by lighting. Some multiple. Bren held his hand up, and Venia not-so-gently tossed the bow into the air vaguely towards Bren, who pulled it the rest of the way towards him. Bren looked down at Venia, who, despite her mask, looked worried about something. Bren rested the bow on his back and kneeled down to Venia, asking her what was bothering her. Venia’s voice, much more sincere than usual, came through her mask, although Bren still wasn’t quite sure the girl even had a mask, “Why do other Quori dislike us so much? Sure we have glowy marks that become glowy when we use our powers, but it’s not really any different from magic right?” Bren thought for a bit before responding to what he knew would be an inevitable question eventually. He was surprised it took as long as it did, although he supposed it came about from their recent encounter at a town, where the people that cursed them for their powers had been perfectly nice beforehand, unlike the others.
“Our abilities, Venia, come from an ancient art of Dreaming, that the Old Quori used to manipulate Shtarhold, and reality itself, in different ways. After the war, and the Day the Sky Turned Black, the talent of Dreaming was essentially lost, and as such, when it shows up again, it scares other Quori. It’s foreign to them, and most times dangerous.” Bren noticed Venia thinking about what he said (even without any facial expressions, Bren had learned to read Venia), before she perked up a bit.
“So you’re saying that our abilities, this Dreaming, was so strong before the Day the Sky Turned Black that it actually scares people now!? That’s awesome!” Bren slowly shook his head, although he knew Venia could tell the girl’s reaction amused him.
“Alright Venia, we should go get some food, or at least I should.” The girl nodded, and asked if she could shoot, but Bren shook his head, saying that he needed the food edible, not fried by lightning. Venia giggled at Bren’s joke, a rare occurrence, and followed him in search of prey.
About halfway through Venia’s 15th turn of life, Bren and Venia were hired to kill a Plane Scryer, as it was scaring the locals, although not doing any real harm. Nevertheless, the two went after the beast, although Bren only let Venia come along after she promised to focus on keeping herself alive instead of engaging directly. After tracking down the monster, the two Hunters and the beast engaged in battle. For the most part, Venia remained out of harm’s way, focusing on buffing the much more imminent threat for the Scryer. However, Venia, ever impatient, tried to sneak up on the Scryer after it had lost one of its arms, but the Scryer noticed, and attempted to use its last remaining arm to kill the Quori that had been making its survival much less likely, and it was already extremely injured due to Bren unleashing an immensely powerful burst of psychic energy that Venia felt he had to exert conscious effort into to not hurt her. As the Scrier’s claw descended towards Venia, Venia had a flashback to the last time she was truly in danger, when a Darkstrider was inches from her face.
Venia heard a scream of pain echo in her ears, and she saw Bren’s limp body fall to the ground, his hoarse voice telling Venia to take the bow. Venia, filled with rage, and her normal desire to kill things that she likely shouldn’t even be within 100 ft. of, obliged. She took the bow and, using all of the energy she could, launched a spike of ice at the injured Plane Scryer’s face, impaling it, and causing the Scryer’s energy to explode, delivering Venia a prophecy:
“Oh what fun, it’s been so long, My form may wilt, but my being continues. Hold these words. And never forget them.”
“Dawn breaks, skies shake, Oh how dreamers have ceased to see.
Dawn breaks, the world quakes, you have no idea what you can be.”