#really rough stuff

Reyvanna’s hunter background remains nearly identical from Post-Empire (current Tyranny). The only difference is instead of the Disfavored (who weren’t around then) slaughtering her kin it was a group of sellswords eeking out a profit from beastmen hides/meat- the meat being a delicacy and something one could play off as being an exotic meat not associated to the beasts if need be. Those men and women left her to die, not bothering with shackling a tiny child and using her as a slave to be sold. It would only make a dent in their profits as she was already *damaged* good thanks to the wilds.

Reyvanna is left to her own devices in the wilds, learning to live the best she can without the support of her tribe. For a week she lived horribly before a hunter managed to find her among the trees which she made her home in.

This wayward hunter named Emithas, an older woman who took to hunting as a means to provide for herself and be self-sufficient took Reyvanna in as her own and taught her more about the nature around her. 

Emithas also taught Reyvanna to read and write, something very uncommon as most if not all of Terratus were illiterate. Only those of noble birth, merchants, or with enough wealth were able to do such things.

For ten years Reyvanna traveled with her, her second surrogate mother, and became more knowledgeable of the different lands, animals, and plant life most either ignored or studied about due to leisure.

At the age of seventeen or eighteen Reyvanna parts ways with Emithas, choosing to travel on her own and explore areas many wouldn’t dare tread upon. 

Words spread of a wild woman lurking in the forests and marshes began to spread throughout many nations. Many citing a woman with oaken colored skin, her body dotted with freckles, and messy earthen brown hair left in tightly bound curls- sometimes braided popping in and out of towns all over Terratus.

Many cited her as a guide through savage lands, travelers and the homeless praising the woman dressed in cured leather- donning green pigmentation on her clothing mixed with the natural brown of the hides, of her prowess of all things herbal and of natural design.

Kyros in her early years sought her out, requesting her lead her meager forces at the time, through hostile lands in an effort to unify all nations under her. Reyvanna agreed at the time. Using this as a means to learn more about the curious would be Overlord and her followers.

Through this contract between her and Kyros Reyvanna became a scout for Kyros’ people. Herding them past unstable lands, where volcanoes erupted without warning and bitter cold sapped the land of sustenance and shelter. 

In these travels, Reyvanna was quick to teach those who would listen about the dangers of certain plants and animals which roamed the lands. Many times she had killed a viper, stopped a green recruit from ingesting toxic berries he’d ‘found’, and applied medicinal poultices made from readily available herbs. 

Under a blue flag, Kyros’ forces managed to make it to a small- yet crucial nation waving the flag of neutrality. 

Before Kyros’ people managed to make a declaration of peace and diplomacy to discuss the possibility of joining forces, Reyanna decided to venture within the nations’ walls. It was there she met Tunon before he became the Archon of Justice. A man still human and highly expressive.

 Scribes situated in the main building dedicated to the study of law and order, gawked at the odd woman as Reyvanna slipped inside. Curiosity getting the better of her as the nation’s customs and architect vastly differed from what she’d seen in her travels.

She clashes with Tunon, the governor of the main city as she knows him then, citing blindspots in his line of thinking and attitude. Mainly his opinion of her state of being, status, and disregard of order grate upon him. 

By the end of the day Reyvanna is gone just as quickly as she appears. Falling back to the thickets and wilds. Breathing in the clean air as if she were a fish drifting through the Brooks.

When it is finally time to settle things and bring about a unification between Kyros and the small nation- it is the Governor who appears to the peace talks, whole fully agreeing to whatever it is Kyros wishes. No fight. No blood. Just sensibility. 

Nestled in the corner of the room Reyvanna merely observes. Utilizing her expertise in poisons and herbal based toxins as a taste tester for Kyros. Ignored in favor of peace she’s able to listen to the discussions without hindrance. A small amount of respect given to the Governor as the pieces begin to fall into place as to how smoothly a transition their society will be in regards to Kyros’ societal demands. 

With a successful inclusion of another nation within Kyros’ arsenal, stability growing along with the soon to be overlord’s notoriety, Reyvanna follows the growing Archon further. Even accepting a position within her inner circle for her services, praising Reyvanna even further by her natural affinity to read the signs of nature without fail. 

Tunon is the second to join this inner circle. His efforts to integrate Kyros’ laws into his nation’s prior to their advancement pushed him upon a similar pedestal. Tunon the ‘fair’ was widely spoken. As was Tunon the Just. In the end he became the Adjudicator of Justice by Kyros’ decree.

And Reyvanna was regarded as some sort of forest entity. For no one could fathom how she managed the things she did.

Kyros settled her empire in the north with the aid of Blood Ruin, an archon of war budding into his own destructive force. 

Blood Ruin had a penchant to adore those who seeded the ground with blood, oozed skill, and radiated power. Reyvanna was one such person. 

The woman darted from his advances, cruelly shooting him down even before he opened his mouth. Still he persisted. And still Reyvanna ignored him. His views and morals different greatly from her own and she couldn’t stomach laying with a man like that.

Often Reyvanna would seek out Tunon’s company, more often than naught to evade Blood Ruin and his attempts at cornering her into a position he preferred.

Surprisingly Tunon allowed her to seek refuge within his study. Provided she didn’t make it a habit or become a nuisance. 

At times they would debate. Clash. Argue. Reyvanna’s curt unfiltered mindset provided some validity to many of her arguments. Her experiences in the field coveted as they allowed for strategic placement of soldiers and current adaptations to outdated maps.

Her visits became more frequent. The reasons changing each time. None of which involved Blood Ruin’s involvement.

Between the two of them, they had an amiable association. 

It wasn’t until a few years later Reyvanna was called to Kyros’ private room. She arrived only to find a man with ebony skin and red paint decorating his face bound in shackles with Kyros looming over him. This was Bleden Mark. And a failed assassination attempt.

As the only member of Kyros’ circle available, she was forced to witness the assassin sworn into her service. 

Mark she was wary of. His ability to slip in and out of the shadows... unnerving. Even she couldn’t track him down when the need for his presence was required. It was as if the shadows chose him. 

It wasn’t until nearly a decade something triggered a chain reaction within the inner circle. Tunon was the first. Tendrils of smoke arose from under his formal robes, slithering and lashing out as his temper flared in a court hearing. His eyes changed from blue to gray overtime, his eyes practically glowing. Floating came next. And from there Kyros called him before her, naming him an Archon of Justice rather than the Adjudicator of Justice. 

Blood Ruin displayed incredible strength and durability a human couldn’t possibly hope to match. Paired with his love for bloodshed and disorder- he became the Archon of War.

Just as Reyvanna suspected Mark became the Archon of Shadow, his powers growing tenfold after slaying a beast woman cloaked in shadows herself. Like Tunon his appearance shifted. His black hair turning white and fading into the shadows. His brown eyes now gold and glowing as well.

For Reyvanna her powers came about in strange ways. During a scouting run, she ran into factions who opposed Kyros, forcing her into a battle where the odds weren’t in her favor. Something echoed deep within her. Something called out... and she answered. In a whirlwind of blood and iron- Reyvanna never missed a shot. Her arrows hit their marks every single time. Something lurked in the background. Stalking. Hunting. An animal. It wasn’t until she was locked blade to blade with another foe that the beast made itself known. In a flurry of white Reyvanna’s foe collapsed- blood pouring out from a shattered neck. A ghostly white lioness stood over the body, unnatural in appearance and build. Prepared to fight the crazed animal the lioness she watched it, observed it’s posture and body language to better prepare herself for a fight.

Surprisingly the beast seemed... disinclined to fight her. Focusing on her foes and rending flesh from bone with deadly accuracy. 

In the heat of battle, the lioness forgotten as the enemy closed her powers became much more volatile. Animals, some not native to the region, swooped down onto her foes. Jackels lunged and hunted down those who fled from the battlefield, their numbers overpowering the fools who thought they could outrun them. Lumbering bears of various colors bashed in heads, deadly cats of the forests laid in the bushes. Hidden and waiting to pounce when they least expected it. And boars charged into the fray- shredded people’s stomachs as their tusks caught them.

When Reyvanna returned to Kyros’ court, her seat of power, nobles and civilians alike screeched at the sight of blood dripping off her attire. Or perhaps they balked at the sight of what followed behind her. A pack of three Jackals led by an unnaturally large and pure white lioness.

‘Huntress’ was whispered on their lips. Horror. Savage. A danger.

Archon of Hunt. The title flowed out from Kyros’ mouth, the sound ringing like a bell. It felt natural. Felt right. In time many called her Huntress out of respect. Many used it out of fear. For how could one command animals, predict the weather, and kill with pinpoint accuracy with a bow and not be feared?

Like all the others her brown eyes change. Tunon and Mark are the first to notice, watching the warmth of her eyes shift into something blazing and fiery- the color shifting from brown to a bright orange. They glow. And just as everyone fears Tunon, Mark, Blood Ruin, and the other archons flocking around Kyros, she too is feared. Her canines are sharp like that of a carnivore. Sharper than they ever were. Even her senses drastically shift. Her sense of smell, hearing, sight, and touch are heightened past that of a human.

Some part of her is thrilled by the changes. Another fears it.

Reyvanna spends more time with Tunon, her appreciation for him growing. Fondness slowly seeping into her being as they debate, talk, and discuss many things. As equals she is open with him. Unafraid. But she hesitates to make her feelings clear.

A cold fury takes hold of Reyvanna as Kyros begins to play with people around her. Taking some to bed with her and twisting them to suit her. Some are injured from their sexual escapades. Others unable to speak. Reyvanna ignored it at first. Blind to it for the longest time. IT isn’t until Kyros’ sights are set on Tunon and Mark that Reyvanna begins to distrust the overlord.

On a regular basis, Reyvanna bothers Tunon, noticing slight changes within himself and that of his emotional range. He’s sinking under a torrent of water, drifting towards the bottom of the seafloor as Kyros continues to twist him inside out. The scent of blood on him and the limp in his step are all she needs to know he had been with her that day.

And she seethes. 

Mark brushes her off. And doesn’t let her in. Deciding to simply fade into the shadows where she can’t find him.

With Tunon she struggles between loyalty to Kyros and her abusive actions strangling the Archon of Justice.

They argue. Fight. Reyvanna pushes his boundaries and presses the issue further than ever before. Tiptoeing along the lines of treason. Tunon threatens her with the promise of death for treason. She accepts it for she can’t bear to see him being torn asunder by a woman she considered ‘just’ and fair. 

Tunon never goes through it. “.... I can’t. I cannot kill you.”

As Archons come and go during Kyros’ reign, Reyvanna has little spats between Pox, Ashe, and Nerat when they are placed in the same room. The nature of her pets following her around wherever she goes sparks malcontent between Ashe and Nerat. The two making snide comments soon after becoming archons themselves. 

Reyvanna’s only beef with Pox is her method of warfare. Spreading disease through her plagued rats and shambling corpses brought back to the brink only to explode in highly populated areas sickens her.

On many occasions, Tunon has to call order between the archons when they are in the same room for Nerat and Ashe never fail to poke at the Huntress.

The albino Lioness is named Wraithe for her ghostly appearance and light steps. Those who see Wraithe know Reyvanna is around for the lioness never strays too far from her. 

The three Jackels who accompany Reyvanna on the battlefield are known as Velios, Mistras, and Lelaos. Two males and one female.

True to the title of the Archon of Hunt Reyvanna wears bits of bone sewn into her attire. wrapped around her waist is a leather cord with animal skulls dangling from it. She even pierced her ears so she could wear thin strips of metal with feathers belonging to vicious birds few dared to kill, adorning them.