Card:14/Ranger
Name: Fianait
Gender:Female
Description:
Age:70 (Dwarf, man.)
Traits:
Junk Bolts: Fianait is.. very resourceful when it comes to ammunition. She can make her own ammo out of things that people can't even fathom - hair, leather.. even human skin once.
Modder: Whatever crossbow she has on her hands, she usually improves it in one or different way, whether to improve accuracy, or just to experiment.. Sometimes, that also backfires terribly.
Outdoorsman: Never likes being cooped inside one place for too long. While she does enjoy the benefits civilization has: warm beds, food, water, and all that, she prefers to be out there in the wild. As of such, her instincts out there are heightened.
Fluffles the Tiger-Cat: One of the few things she truly loves, and will defend no matter what. When people ask "why Fluffles?", she just gives a glaring look, as a warning that repeating that question will result into a crippling leg wound and a desire to go to the nearest cleric.
Equipment:
Heavy Iron Crossbow
20 Iron Bolts
Leather armour
Cape
Pick
Traps
Glue, and other tools required for his trait
Food and water.
Background & Bio:
Fianait is a dwarf, born in the high mountains, where only dwarves, trolls and.. precious minerals reside. Perhaps, her fate would be to a miner, or a blacksmith, or maybe even an esteemed engineer. Or, become part of the Silver Iron Guard, where she would wield a mighty mace right towards some troll's face in a damp tunnel? She'll never know, as when she was 20, some idiot gave her a crossbow, for "keeping". And a bunch of bolts. Would that idiot ever know that the little dwarf's fate would be forever changed from that seemingly inconsequential event? Because it was. It is as if crossbows and Fianait were born to be one, or as if some God decided to see how funny would it be to have a skilled marksman in a race that isn't known for that?
Whatever the reason is, she soon became distanced from others. She now was "that weirdo who constantly carries a crossbow". The fact she nearly shot a number of people fatally didn't help. One day, her luck was gone - a Silver Iron trainer annoyed her with his insistence that "crossbows are for humans and orcs who can't use a sword!", and.. He was dead, bleeding down on the ground. Without much waiting, the guards seized her. That would be the end of her story, but some Dwarven noble apparently saw her on her way to prison, and decided to give her mercy - an exile.
All she was given was a crossbow, leather armour.. and a pick. To remind her from where she comes, and that she'll never come back.