Suvyr of the Rising Thunder

# Suvyr Ab Ortu Tonitrua

Born of a Kaminari Kami named Sulum Ab Ortu Tonitrua, and female catfolk by name of Sara Sagishi, Suvyr was orphaned at a young age for reasons he still doesn't know, left in the wilderness and adopted by a family of cats that nursed and cared for him, raising him as one of their own. This remained the case until one winter when he was still a young child, some game hunters found the cat colony and slaughtered all of them but Suvyr.

The almost feral child was adopted by one of the hunters and brought home to join their family, where Suvyr was fostered alongside his brother and two sisters. It took them quite a bit of effort to bond with the young catfolk, as he viewed them as villains and evildoers on account of the slaughter of his first family. Never quite forgiving them for what had occurred for many years.

When he hit his early teenage years however, he had established a firm bond with the members of his family, learning the hunter's way from his father and proving to be an excellent tracker and sightsman. Capable of seeing distances that were honestly shocking, and finding trails that were almost never there. Finally, as a way of ceremony for his road into adulthood, the catfolk was given a test to hunt on his own.

Yet like many things in his life, this was one of the things that wouldn't quite go to plan. During this hunt, he had the misfortune of encountering a single black greatsword, and it was in this moment that his curiosity struck. Pulling him towards it, Almost touching it. At least until he realized what he was doing, and decided to turn away but...

He couldn't. It was at this moment that Suvyr realized that his body was no longer his, his hand reaching out for the weapon and gripping the handle - the blade much larger than he thought he could ever hold being raised from the ground, and the feeling of his expression splitting apart into a grin that was simply feral and wicked. Destructive in it's intent.

What happened at this point Suvyr is not often willing to admit to, but the blood of his village and family weigh heavily on his hands heart, and body. The blade had driven him to heights his body could not follow, and the hundreds of scars he bears from this experience still ache to remind him of his failures.

Broken and bloody, death nearly came for the young catfolk were it not for the passage of a small troupe of calistrians, drawn by the smoke of the destroyed village, they mistook the affect for a raid of bandits, something which Suvyr - choking on his own blood, had not been able to refute. Forcibly cared for and brought from the edge of death, Suvyr remained in a dark place for the next couple years.

Still, he worked with the Calistrians, who would gradually brighten his dark world, bringing the realization that there was still pleasure to be had, if not vengeance on that which had wronged him, and thus given him a spark to the flame that brought him energy. All of the women in the troupe were his mother, and he was given the skills he needed to develop.

At least it was this way until war came. He would battle his way alongside his troupe for several months, growing firmly attached to them and taking strength in the fact that these people had the tools to stop him if something went wrong. At least this family could protect themselves. It was a relief.

Until it wasn't.

An ambush took the troupe by surprise. Several warriors of the order of the godclaw mistaking the troupe for having their nature be that of Urgothoans rather than calistrians assaulted them and slaughtered all but a single member of the group, one who had been forced to hide, although their ears could hear every second of it.

Once again broken by his own uselessness, By his powerlessness, and lack of control, Suvyr lost his third family. Crawling out of a cellar hole and nearly slipping on blood-slick ground. The dead and their faces seemingly smiling at him, the Calistrians had embraced death joyfully, regardless of the matter, but all he felt was loss and pain.

He spent almost a week burying the dead, refusing to let their remains go uncared for, but then hoisted his pack and checked his equipment. Although strangely, he found a battered pistol, a wasp engraved upon it's base and three bullets that laid within. Names were engraved upon the bullets themselves, that marked those who he felt vengeance towards and he realized his calling.

He was a servant of Calistria, and one who carried on her way. The gods knew he existed, and even through this they believed he had a purpose. Thus when the mark of a an black cat burning with dark fire emblazoned itself upon the back of his hand, he realized that there was a destiny in store for him, and after a great deal of walking he found himself in a city of tents. One place called. "The Blockade"

### == Appearance ==

At 5'4'' Suvyr has brown hair, and weighs about 120 pounds. Although at one point he used to wear a white and blue tunic, it has been stolen from him and is a slight sore spot. Now instead he wears a mithril woven shirt and pants, the bluish silver hidden underneath a haramaki and covered by a black duster. Inside the duster is a hood that can be pulled up to cover his ears.

On his hands he wears a silver and gold ring on his right, and a black ring on his left. A pouch and a bandolier rest on his body, the latter visibly full with numerous bullets and other tools that the catfolk confidently uses at any time. Thick leather boots with soft soles prevent his feet from making any noise, and a unique amulet Emblazoned with the crest of the officio assassinorum lays upon his chest.

### == Personality ==

Bright and cheerful, Suvyr loves to talk unceasingly. Chattering the ears off of whoever will listen, wanting to know everything a person has to share about themselves, and seeking to bolster the moods of others with lighthearted affection and humor, He can be sometimes temperamental, and easily provoked, although he will often try to seek out a peaceful resolution whilst in the city. On missions however, any creature bearing the mark of evil may find themselves destroyed without much opportunity for personal explanations.

### == Loves ==

His wife Tsukiko, Apple Cider, Music, and generally anything that people can enjoy doing or that has people come together.

### == Fears ==

Entropy Atrophy, and Loss. He is deeply terrified of losing the people he cares about. Being powerless to protect them or unable to help them are two aspects that drive him almost to levels of insanity with terror until it can be resolved.

### == Hobbies ==

Sleeping, sharpshooting, Singing, Playing and listening to music, Chatting and conversation

### == Family ==

\*Sulum Ab Ortu Tonitrua - Father

\*Sara Sagishi - Mother

\*Tsukiko of the Ninetails - Wife

\*Victoria Asorin Ninetails - Daughter

\*Hiroyuki Suki Nintails - Son

### == Friends ==

\*Victoria Mors - Mother figure and leader, best friend, and absolute badass

\*Asorin Mors - Best friend and magical god of might and fright

\*Sovereign - Cool and reliable, always a powerhouse regardless of... what... particular thing he's doing at the moment?

\*Lilly - Deceased

### == Enemies ==

\*Xerthaz - Put the lives at his friends and family at risk. Unreasonable, and unwilling to converse. Always charging ahead without a thought and is a danger to bring along on anything that doesn't involve using his overly thick skull as a battering ram.

\*Anyone carrying or using a Cradle of Night - These tools are corruptive and destructive to the area around them. Anyone bearing or using one needs "Corrective action" immediately.

### == Aspirations ==

\*Rid the world of the xeno threat.

\*Build a safe place for his wife and children

\*Get Victoria Mors happily married