Linara Stormdaughter

## Description

A woman with an abrasive attitude and the capabilities to back it, Linara stands barely at 5' 6". Her diminutive stature, by human standards, belies the corded muscles that continuously seem to strain under her armor. Her mane of red hair perpetually in disarray frame a face that could be pretty if she actually smiled now and then, yet it is her eyes that catch the attention: hazelnut brown and ever darting to take in every detail, they seem to reflect the light when it is just right, like a beast in the dark.

She usually carries her greatsword on a baldric hanging by her side, a knife sheathed behind her waist, and a number of throwing blades distributed on her person.

## History

Linara hails from Theia, a world where the gift of magic and the spark of heroism has become increasingly rare over the last three centuries. Magic itself has not left the world, and creatures of power great and small still abound, now an ever increasing threat to the sentient races as ancient magical defenses fail one by one from a lack of maintenance by a skilled practitioner.

Linara was born on the year 301 AR, or After the Rupture, the calamitous war that saw mighty sorcerer-kings tear down the Wheel of Rebirth in an attempt to achieve immortality and godhood. It is their folly that now prevents the spark of magic and destiny from reaching new hosts.

Her birth took place in a temple of the Dawnmaiden, attended by the wise-women who devote themselves to the healer aspect of the rising sun. For reasons she would only discover much later in life, she was entrusted to her grandparents, along with her two older brothers. This was doubly strange, as they were financially unable to support this family, and the five of them wound up on the streets early on. Her childhood was far from awful, all things considered, she even made friends with other street urchins. But before her 9th birthday, her grandparents realized that the civilized world had nothing left to offer. After being fired from yet another job, they packed up what little belongings they had and decided to live in the wilds.

That they managed to not only survive, but thrive, is a testament to her grandparents' determination. Linara and her siblings quickly learned how to identify edible plants, tracks and clean water, and soon they were as skilled as any wood elf. Yet, the question about her parents lingered.

On her 16th birthday, her grandparents finally revealed their fate: her father had been killed not long before her birth by a werebeast that had also wounded her mother. While she survived, there were concerns that she had been afflicted with lycanthropy, and brought to a temple. The trauma of her wounds and the loss of her husband had caused her to go into labor, and clerics and alchemists were rushed to the scene with prayers and concoctions to ensure Linara was not born a True Lycanthrope. She and her brothers were entrusted to her grandparents while her mother recovered. It was meant as a temporary arrangement, but her mother vanished from the temple shortly thereafter. Everyone believed she had succumbed to the Curse, and had run off in the night to join a pack.

Linara was angry. Not at her parents or grandparents, but at the monstrous creature that had robbed her of her mother and father before she was even born. Never one to be meek, she sought to bring some balance to her life. She had heard of an Order of warrior-alchemists who enhanced their bodies to hunt the monsters that lived beyond the light of civilization. Without a thought, she packed her things and sought them out. A half-elf named Sieglind found her and took her in.

The following years were spent training, then hunting. Her humanity almost eroded in her anger, Linara nearly becoming the very monsters she sought to eliminate. Then she found Wendell, a simple soldier, with no magick or alchemy. Yet he fought for his ideals with the strenght of lions. Linara was moved, and troubled. What was she fighting for, exactly? She knew what she was fighting against, but had never seen past the lenght of her sword cleaving into her foes.

She spent some time with Wendell, watching him, learning from him. He kindled back her faith in humanity, in the triumph of good over evil, and in the power of will and determination. He also kindled love, something she had never really experienced beyond the occasional, short-lived dalliance with Sieglind.

The half-elf did not take the new romance kindly, growing bitter by the day until Linara was told she had to come back to Order's stronghold or cut ties. Against such an ultimatum, the choice was simple: she chose Wendell.

Two years later, they had settled in a little cottage out in the wilds. Her brother Selvig, a simple herder, came to live with them, contributing to the household despite his poor health. Then, a year later, Owyn was born.

Linara hadn't thought it was possible. The alchemical process of becoming one of the Seekers wrought such changes to her body, she had thought herself unable to conceive. And yet, here he was, a little miracle.

Almost a year later, Linara was on her way back from Caleb's Hold, the main settlement in the Shroudmist Barony. She had bought some supplies to cook a great feast for Owyn's first birthday, hoping he'd feel better by then. Wendell had had to stay home with their child because he had a fever, so she travelled alone. A two-days journey she had made so often before.

On her way back, a storm erupted, and she sought shelter in one of the lean-tos built by travelers along the road. She was lulled to sleep by the sound of falling rain. When she awoke, she found herself in a forest far from any roads, the ground dry, and surrounded by plants she had never seen.