Meena
My family called me Meena. My enemies call me Vengeance, for that is what I wreak upon them.
I was born and raised in the forests outside of the city of Portent Downs. My family consisted of my parents, several younger siblings, two Uncles and their families. We migrated from place to place hunting and gathering plants and herbs which my Mother used in cooking and medicine.
Occasionally, my Father would take me with him into Portent Downs to meet with our distant relatives who lived there. How they lived in those stuffy enclosures I will never know. We would stay a few days, trading pelts and medicine for weapons and items we couldn’t make ourselves.
When I was young, I hated going to town and being exposed to “the Others”. The Humans and Halflings feared us, the Dwarves glared at us, and the Elves turned their noses up at us. As I grew older, I realized that the merchants who dealt with my Father and who knew him, actually respected him and treated us fairly. I learned not all of the Others were to be hated.
In the early summer of my 18th year my family headed high up in the mountains to gather a certain herb that my Mother wanted. After we had camped, my Father decided it was an opportunity for me to practice my survival skills. He sent me alone into the wilderness for several days to practice my training.
Three days went by without major incident and I headed back to camp with a deer for the family. What I found when I returned changed my life forever. A large group of Orcs had come out of the mountains and attacked my family. While they fought valiantly, all of my family had been killed.
I was shocked and enraged. But I took the time to build a funeral pyre and put my family to rest. A few of the orcs saw the bright light on the mountain and came back to investigate. They were the first to die. I followed the raiding party picking off any orc that was foolish enough to be caught alone. I kept to the shadows. Occasionally I would slip past the guards and kill them as they slept. I barely slept, ate or washed. I was covered in the blood and filth of my enemies and my clothes were becoming rags. I cared not.
For months I followed them, killing them one by one. I almost lost myself in the killing, until one night I had a dream. My Mother was there. She was crying at seeing my condition and what I had become. Then my Father was there, and sternly told me that I was shaming myself and my family.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I realized that what I had been doing, although satisfying, would not bring my family back. I cleaned up, and started my healing. Eventually, I made my way back to my familiar forests. But I made a vow to my family that I would continue to take my vengeance on any Orc or filthy Goblins that crossed my path.
I have lived in the forest alone for several years, learning what Nature could teach me. Occasionally I would sneak into the City in the dark of the night to visit what’s left of my family and do some trading. But I am always glad to slip back into my beloved forest. I have been thinking about my future. There are not many Tieflings in this area, so I may have to align myself with Others, if they would have me. I can’t be the only one who hates Orcs and any other creatures who attack innocents without provocation.
Adventuring in the world of Ph’yrin Tys with Drafala, Baldurdash, Meena, Modax Winterheart, Kemlaech, Raxhanne and sometimes Zorokai.