Female companionship had been a bit of a problem for the band, up until the last sixth-cycle or so.

Females could be reasonable about food or property if you approached them with the right attitude and overwhelming numbers, but try to grab one and someone'd soon be missing body parts. It'd gotten to the point were there were no good options around, and Kadreth had been starting to feel rather desperate. But the gods had provided.

A blacksmith had gotten hold of a female somehow - a witch, no less! - and had badly wanted to get rid of her for a modest fee; quietly and without fuss, no calling up the Matriarch over criminal activity. Some of the boys had been nervous about it, regardless, because you never knew what a witch could do. Something about fire, the smith'd said. But Jekkath had gone ahead with it; she was a bit young, and small, of course, and rather beat up, but it made it all the easier to keep her under control. For safety's sake, though, they'd also invested in making much more of the meekleaf potion they used to calm down captives.

They kept her dosed with it. It was charity, really, Kadreth thought piously; compared to whatever treatment she'd been receiving before, being constantly dosed with happy juice was probably a relief. Having to provide solace to the band was just… payment. He wasn't sure how he felt about the new recruits that were resulting, but at least Librith was feeding them, the soft-hearted idiot.

It had been Kadreth's turn with the waif earlier. Now, having returned to his own tent, he stretched out, lazy and contented. He was pleased with the band's good fortune, which itself was no accident - as Jekkath said, everything they wanted was out here in the backwoods, if they were willing to do what they had to to get it.

An infuriated shriek sounded elsewhere in the camp, followed by the roar of unfettered flame. Kedrath leapt to his feet in terror.

It occurred to him, far too late, that he'd been supposed to give the witch her dose of meekleaf potion and hadn't.

• Common name: Ferleth
• RP status: RP character, played by Shyriath

• Full name: Unknown
• Nicknames or aliases: N/A
• Date of birth: 81 Cloud 15:8
• Place of birth: Unknown

• Biological sex: Female
• Gender identity: Female
• Sexual orientation: Unknown

• Species: Takma (Chosen)
• Race: Riparian
• Ethnic origin: Heartlander
• Current ethnic identification: Heartlander
• Native language: Midvallic Imperial
• Other languages spoken: Contemporary Imperial

• Alignment: Kaean
• Magical attunement: Spark

Ferleth is of a strong build but slightly wasted from undernourishment. She has silver scales over most of her body, shading to gold on the insides of her legs and in a band along either side of her belly. A similar band runs along her spine.

Her left wing was clearly snapped in half in the past, and has healed at an angle that makes flight impossible. Her right foreleg has likewise been dislocated and not healed quite right. The scars of old acid burns, as if someone had flicked it at her sides and back, mar the glossiness of her scales in patches on those areas.

She walks with a limp in her right foreleg, which also makes it very difficult to climb or otherwise pull her own weight without the aid of her hindlegs.

Ferleth has a strong face and jawline, and the dark facial markings around her eyes resemble rings of long, leaf-bladed spear heads radiating from around her eyes.

One gets the impression that should would have been considered pretty, but the look of her face is marred by an area on the left side of her muzzle that has been dished in, as if by some concentrated impact; she is missing several teeth there. Her mouth does not close properly there and it slightly affects her speech.

Ferleth does not customarily wear clothes; she feels no cultural pressure to do so, has no individual desire to do so, and does not seem to need clothes for warmth.

Above everything else, Ferleth desires to be left alone to her fate, whatever that may be. In second place is the desire to be made safe from threats, even if this means having to kill people.

Ferleth has mostly washed her paws of everything and everyone save herself, but she has a residual sense of justice; if witnessing someone in danger of being subjected to abuse or exploitation in a way that reminds her of what she herself has experienced, she is perfectly willing to attack and kill the perpetrators.

She is frequently angry or irritable and perpetually mistrustful to the point of paranoia; she gets a bad feeling when someone is trying to be too nice for her taste. She will lash out violently when sufficiently disturbed. She also has little propensity to think her way through problems or to plan; when an obstacle presents itself, she prefers to burn or bludgeon it down if it isn't possible simply to avoid it.

Ferleth is not inherently stupid, but is deeply nonintellectual; she has no interest in the greater mysteries of life. Thinking and introspection only bring pain, and besides which serve no purpose for someone trying to find their next meal and avoid being found.

She has some capacity for artistic expression, mainly through her pyrokinetic abilities, which she can use to shape flame in intricate ways. That said, her subconscious tends to slip reenactments of scenes from her troubled past into the flames if she doesn't pay attention.

Ferleth is not entirely amoral, but she feels that she has the right to do what she must to feel safe - if this means charbroiling someone who is looking at her in what she feels to be a disturbing way, then so be it. Above all else she prefers to be left alone, both for her own safety and that of others, to live or die by her own actions. She cares little for what the rest of the world does so long as that condition is met.

Raised in the milieu of the imperial_religion, Ferleth reserves a special hatred for the siathar. She believes they exist, but blames them for not answering her desperate prayers for deliverance; she prays to them no longer, and curses their names.

She holds no hatred, but also no special reverence, for the lamnar, and makes them no offerings; though she is willing to concede that idrizal, the goddess of fire, may have been responsible for her magical ability, she views this as a mixed blessing at best.

Ferleth is by strong inclination a loner. She may associate with others if her needs require it, but she would prefer not to if at all possible. She makes no attempt to hide this from those she does associate with.

Ferleth enjoys bathing, and if she is otherwise unoccupied and can find a moderately cool body of water, she is liable to remain in it. While she is not particularly drawn to heat for comfort, it does serve as a source from which to replenish what she stores for her magic and is liable to spend some time basking in heat for that purpose. She prefers solitude and silence, or at least faint white noise.

Ferleth has little enough leisure time, or enough capacity for the concept of leisure, that hobbies are not a major feature of her life. Sometimes she will lie down in water or mud and soak while sleeping; when awake, she will sometimes occupy herself with manipulating flames into pleasing shapes.

She dislikes noise of any kind, which puts her on edge, but especially loud, sharp noises, or those which emanate from peoples' voices. She does not trust other people and prefers them to stay away from her personal space; she does not like to be touched or approached, especially from behind, and is likely to respond with aggression if it happens. The same applies to shouting or other loud vocalizations, even if they are not directed at her.

She is deeply disturbed by, or even fearful of, the presence of children and will attempt to leave if finding herself near one.

Ferleth tends to keep her head lowered, as if in submission, so long as she is not interacting with anyone, and generally maintains a defensive posture.

The injury to her muzzle leaves Ferleth with something of a lisp. When conversing, Ferleth tends to come across as impatient, short-tempered, and humorless. Her language is direct, rustic, and coarse, often straying into foul language. She makes no calculated insults, but has no problems telling someone her impression of them to their face.

A lifetime of extended periods of physical and mental abuse, combined with extended use of meekleaf, has left Ferleth in a poor mental and emotional state. She exhibits many symptoms of PTSD, including nightmares, flashbacks, and a reluctance to be touched or even approached closely, especially from behind.

She has little concept of a safe space. She rarely, if ever, feels safe around other people, and when interacting with them tends to be irritable and mistrustful at best, and frequently angry to the point of violence. She maintains this mood as long as she can, because when not angry she tends to enter a black depression in which she struggles to function. Rage, for all the problems it causes, motivates her to live.

Ferleth was born as an energist, a Chosen with an affinity for Spark magic. She is very much attuned to fire and has the most natural ability with it.

Ferleth is capable of moving heat energy from one place to another. Frequently she stores it within her own body, and in fact appears to do this constantly on a subconscious level (as a result of which she must frequently discharge it, and often does so in violent form when angry). Internally stored energy can be amplified when discharged.

She can, and often does, release stored energy as flame of varying intensity and form.

Whether working with her own flame or with that from another source, she has the ability to control the form, shape, and movement of fire. This represents one of her few avenues for artistic expression and fine control, as she is able to sustain and animate flame in complicated forms, to the point of being able to create 'puppets' made of flame, though she seems not to understand precisely how she does it.

The damage done to her body by physical abuse has restricted Ferleth's movement. Her broken wing means she is incapable of flight; her dislocated forelimb prevents her from climbing efficiently and make extended walking painful.

Ferleth has a history with metalworking, such that she could probably make a living at smithing if she had the desire and opportunity to do so. Her sensitivity to potential threats translates into decent reflexes in battle.

Ferleth has had no formal education, though she has some familiarity with smithing and metalworking. She cannot read or write.

From childhood into adolescence, Ferleth was kept as a walking method of controlling heat and flame in a smithy, which gained her a working knowledge of metallurgy and blacksmithing. When she became, as it were, too hot to handle, the smith sold her to a passing and extremely unscrupulous male band, who proceeded to keep her drugged and compliant so that she would help them satisfy certain urges. She received no recompense for either occupation except pain, horror, and a minimal level of daily needs.

She is currently hiding out in the wilderness, attempting to survive on her own long enough to take revenge.

Ferleth is effectively penniless; she has no money, no possessions, and no home besides a small region of swamp.

Ferleth was hatched in 81 Cloud 15:8. The circumstances of her early childhood are distant to her and poorly remembered, except that she has the impression that she was once well cared-for.

At some point, however, she passed into the charge of Arineth, a female blacksmith with a habit of domestic violence. When Ferleth's powers manifested, she was set to work controlling the flames in Arineth's forge, and taught how to optimally heat and cool metal for different sorts of tools. She was little praised when she succeeded, and frequently beaten when she got something wrong - or when Arineth got something wrong, or when something entirely unrelated went wrong. She was fed and her injuries treated by one of the more responsible of Arineth's husbands, albeit very grudgingly.

At approximately the age of three cycles, after a beating by Anireth resulted in a panicked Ferleth accidentally burning down part of the smithy, she was essentially sold to a local band of males with a poor reputation. She went willingly, and had hopes of better treatment, since their leader, Jekkath, seemed friendly to her.

However, the food they gave her was laced with meekleaf potion, a concoction with the effect of relaxing the will and making the consumer suggestible. Young though she was, she was old enough, and was put into service as a sex slave for the group, kept docile with regular doses of the potion. She remained in that state for nearly twelve turns, with only brief moments of clarity that she was never able to take advantage of.

But such a regimen cannot be maintained flawlessly forever, and there finally came a time when those responsible for dosing her had unwittingly failed to do so twice in a row. Regaining her will and comprehending what had been done to her, she fled the camp, burning several members of the band alive on her way out.

She has since been lurking alone in a swamp, fending for herself. She has had little to eat and little rest and an intense paranoia about recapture, but she is free. And she is angry.

Ferleth has the impression, through very faint memory, that she was once loved and well cared-for by those she assumes were her birth family, but she can no longer recall who they were, what they looked like, or how it was that her circumstances changed; regardless, her earliest firm memories place her in the care of the smith Arineth and her husbands Nith and Sereth, who grudgingly raised her and were effectively her family. There were no other children in the household.

Ferleth prefers to believe that her real parents were forced to give her away to Arineth when they became aware that she was a Chosen, though she inwardly fears that the smith and her husbands might well have been her parents. Regardless, having experienced emotional neglect and physical abuse from them, and then having been sold by them, she has no remaining ties to them.

Her time in Jekkath's band resulted in an unknown number of children. Having been conceived while she was under the influence of meekleaf, she did not want them and has no interest in them.

For a time, Ferleth was associated with Jekkath's criminal band, effectively kept as a sex slave and kept docile with meekleaf potion. Since her escape, her attitude toward them is understandably antagonistic, and she has a very firm intention of incinerating every last one of them - with the possible exception of Librith, an elderly male who had been coerced by the band into a sort of domestic servitude.

At the moment, none; nor are any wanted.

• “Percy's Escape”, Bastion Soundtrack OST
• “Set Fire to the Rain”, Adele
• “In Your Eyes”, Peter Gabriel
• “Vegeta's Super Saiyan Theme”, Dragonball Z