Shayak

**Shayak** is a Bastet from the Khan tribe.

## Biography

Once, you were the runt of the litter. The other batted you around the den and forced you away from Mother's teat.

While your sister and brothers ran, you limped behind. Your twisted leg hobbled you, slowed you, made you weak and strange in the eyes of your pridemates. They avoided you and hoped you'd die.

You didn't.

At night, Mother watched you while the others were asleep. Watched you hunt the beetles and worms that took the place of milk. Watched you learn to run on three legs. Watched you grow angry and strong.

On the night you became a man, she watched you kill and eat your siblings, then taught you what you really were.

Not a tiger. Something more. Something like her. Like your father, long departed. More than tiger. More than man.

Mother died suddenly, all too young. Her skin was to have warmed a hunter's floor. Instead his skin warmed the dirt and fed the beetles you once ate.

You made his dying hard. It was fun. There were too many of them, anyway. Too many men, too many hunters, too many machines that made trees fall and prey scatter.

If you couldn't eat the animals, you'd eat the men who made them disappear. And you did.

Naturally, they came for you. Other men. Other cats. You killed them all. The men tasted better than the beasts. Spicy.

Fatter. In time, other tigers, other men like you, came to talk.

They wanted you to put aside your war, to save yourself for bigger fights. So far, you have refused, but the idea lodged in your mind like a thorn in your paw.

Somewhere in the night sit men with fat bellies and angry hearts. Cowards eating dead meat from plastic skins. Weaklings. Worms.

Good eating. Hmmmmm....

The ultimate hunter, disfigured from birth but toughened by a harsh existence. You don't know a damned thing about social niceties; the forest is your home. Still, you've grown curious, and not a little hungry for fat prey.

Given the chance, you'll stalk that prey in a new and better hunting ground. Food is getting scarce in the forest.

Why starve when there are so many places to hunt?

Speak simply and directly, when you speak at all. Stalk carefull, lying in ambush until the prey approaches.

Trust no kindness --- you have known none. Recall your place at the top of the food chain. And remember the law of the jungle.

(**Note:** Until someone teaches you the different tongues of man, you know only a smattering of Bengali and the language of the cats.

Learning human skills is going to be difficult, but if you're going to survive, you'll have to adapt.)

**Equipment:** Nothing.

## Stats

**Breed:** Metis

**Pryio:** Night

**Tribe:** Khan

**Physical:** Strength (Powerful) 4, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3

**Social:** Charisma 1, Manipulation (Fierce) 4, Appearance 1

**Mental:** Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 3

**Talents:** Alertness 3, Athletics (Leaps) 4, Brawl (Claws) 4, Intimidation (Roars) 4, Primal Urge (Feral) 4

**Skills:** Animal Ken 3, Stealth (Stalking) 4, Survival 3

**Knowledge's:** Enigmas 3, Investigation 1, Occult 1

**Backgrounds:** Kinfolk 3, Pure Breed 3

**Gifts:** Pathfinder's Pride, Sense Primal Nature, Skin of Jade

**Ferocity:** 3

**Rage:** 7

**Gnosis:** 4

**Willpower:** 3