Hunters: C2

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Character Name

Wender Whithersoever

Lanky and just over six feet tall, Wender is almost past the age where his growth spurt leaves him all knees and elbows. He has shaggy brown hair and olive skin, with bright hazel eyes set into a startlingly handsome face, an aquiline nose, and a sincere and completely unfair smile. He wears sturdy, well-used travelling clothes dyed in unevenly sun-bleached greens and blues, protected by a dark brown dustcloak. He has the articulate hands of a skilled tradesman, and long, narrow feet shod in well-oiled traveling boots. His voice is a startlingly large baritone which, by now, only cracks when he's ill, or nervous.

Character Quote

The best stories are the ones I haven't heard.

Attributes

COMPOSURE | GUILE | PRESENCE | RAPPORT | WILL

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Maneuvers

INITIATE | MAINTAIN | REACT | UNMAKE

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Distinctions

Will o' th' Wisp - Following only the breeze, Wender has, even at his young age, traveled hundreds of miles, seen all manner of places and things, learned the habits of all sorts of people, heard their stories, and entertained them with his.

Hinder: Sometimes your distinction works against you. Gain 1 plot point when you roll a instead of a

Lineage: Human

Affinity: Air

Couch Surfer: You're long since used to asking for a place to stay. Step up or double Presence when trying to get someone to grant you access to their space. On a failed roll, take or step up the Not Welcome complication.

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Raconteur - Wender can spin a compelling tale from even the barest information, improvising musical accompaniment if appropriate, and tailor it to get a desired reaction.

Hinder: Sometimes your distinction works against you. Gain 1 plot point when you roll a instead of a

Tell Me About It: You are adept at lightening the burdens of others, if not your own. Take 1 stress from 1 member of the coterie you're with and suffer it yourself.

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The Wood-Nymph's Vow - Wender had picked a lovely grotto in the woods to rest, and pulled out his lute to sing a pastoral song, when he spotted a wood-nymph on the other side, rapt and listening. He sang for her all day that day, and the next morning he woke up to her looking down fondly at him. He promised that he would never let any harm come to her, or her sisters. He hadn't yet heard of the war against the Fey. She gave him a lock of her hair to remind him of his vow, which he keeps in his locket.

Hinder: Sometimes your distinction works against you. Gain 1 plot point when you roll a instead of a

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Forms

ABJURATION

CONJURATION

DIVINATION

EVOCATION

ILLUSION

TRANSMUTATION

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Talisman

Talisman: A locket worn on a leather strap around his neck.

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Relationships

Master:

Journeyman:

Apprentice:

Coterie:

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Strange Magics

| ASTRAL PROJECTION | AURA SIGHT | DREAM WALKING |

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Step up 1 stress track to activate a strange magic for the scene.

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Backstory/Bio

Wender should have been a woodworker, apprenticing with his older brother under his father in the modestly prosperous town of Raului Mare. A natural musician, he would tap would to hear its voice, to decide whether it was sound or what it was best suited for, and he built a sort of marimba out of the choicest bits of scrap wood, which he would play after the shop closed. But their reputation for fine work and sharp chisels spread far beyond the earthworks defending the town, and so it was that one day an old minstrel darkened their door, asking them how quickly they could fix a lute with a broken brace. He was dressed in finery the likes of which the boy had never seen, but dirty and patched and frayed. He spoke with the booming, resonant voice of a master performer, but here he was, in a town fifty leagues from any suitable theater.

The lute was masterwork, made of the finest wood and lovingly bound and inlaid. It was also quite old, and sure enough, the brace right under the bridge was cracked. The old bard had at least loosened the strings enough that the thin top piece wasn't trying to be a structural element. It would be a very delicate job, his father said, but they'd do it. The old man thanked them, introduced himself with a courtly bow as Dimiti, and left.

The next day, the delicate operation of prying the top piece off without destroying the binding was mostly complete when there was a hubbub outside. Dimiti was being hauled off by... royal guards? They gawked from the doorway, and the old man saw them. "Keep it!" he shouted at the boy, and then as if that was the only reason he struggled, he bowed his head and let himself be shoved into a nearby prison wagon. It was the last the boy saw of him. But he and his father repaired and reassembled the lute, slowly, painstakingly, and then... it was his. This instrument that was worth many times more than everything else the family owned. Wender spent the rest of the day figuring it out. Not knowing how a lute is formally tuned, he invented his own tuning. But there was something about the lute. It was almost as if it didn't want him to remain where he was. Like it whispered to him of distant lands, strange sights, beautiful women. One morning, he put on his sturdiest clothes, packed as little as he could, and set out, with nothing but his feet to guide him.

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