Ylva Fang
A hotheaded woman
View Character Profile
Alignment
Chaotic Good
Current Status
Hunting for a Object of Power
Species
Conditions
Age
25
Children
Pronouns
She/her
Sex
Female
Gender
Woman
Presentation
Feminine
Eyes
Yellow, canine pupils
Hair
Long, wild brown
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tawny, bruised and scraped skin
Height
5'8
Weight
138lb
Belief/Deity
Dhimashino (Orufenzu Pantheon)
To my next of kin
To my brothers and sisters of the order.
When you pick up and read this journal, I will have been killed. Let this passage be my warning to those who wish to continue the hunt in my stead. Time and time again ego has infected the minds of men. They are destined only to follow the tracks of the eras before them. The age of giants and dragons held not a battle of one monstrous species with another, but a battle of megalomaniacs who’s tyranny was the only option. Giants can be killed. Dragons can be killed. It is the purpose of a bloodhunter to deal with such abominations on our world. To root out the blight on our plane and create a safer, cleaner world for everyone involved. With this creed, comes the greatest affront the gods have bestowed upon our kind. The ego of our greatest foes was passed down to our kin. As bloodhunters we are forced to watch as lords and kings fight battles of pride and perverted justice while they ignore the infection that grows in their own kingdom. Time and time again we are forced to watch the individual choose their own vendetta against the very world they wish to save. We are forced to watch as the people we wish to protect decide to kill each other, even when a greater threat appears. There is no unification for humanity. There never will be. They will throw themselves at each other and bloodhunters will die out fighting the threat that they are too blind to acknowledge. Until lords beholden to their own image grow many eyes and stalks from their head, until heroes make the sacrifice for lichdom, and until the common man feasts on the blood of his peers, we must allow their contest of ego, and we must use them for what they are. The hero, the lord, the commoner all share one purpose for our creed. They are tools to be used the fight against our common enemy, and they are to be discarded when their usefulness has run dry. Do not get attached. Do not befriend. Do not delude yourself on the premise that they care. You will inevitably be called to a job that insults their fragile ego, and they will turn on you. Stay ahead. Stay vigilant. Your heart has enough toxin in it already.
Further Warning
My previous writings on ego hold firm, I write this not to disregard my previous statement, but to amend, and to share a deeper light on the dangers of man. To be a bloodhunter is to shed yourself of your humanity, you must cast away your previous wants and desires for a greater task. You will never serve a lord, you will never find yourself surrounded by wealth, and you will never grow old. Our future is to fight and die far from our homes, far from the embrace of the people we fight for. The blood is not just to enhance our fighting prowess. We did not taint our bodies only for the purpose of physical gain, but also as a reminder. It is a reminder that we, and every bloodhunter, have willingly set upon ourselves a clock that continues to tick no matter how hard we fight. Rejection of the blood is fatal. Retired hunters have stirred in their fortresses, searching tome after tome trying to reverse the damage they've done to their bodies, and every attempt of reversal has been lethal. I remind you of this because destiny will dangle your humanity in front of your eyes, just out of reach, begging you to try and grasp for it. The human inside will scream at you to let it out. You will want to stick out your hand, you will want to grab onto what you remember of a peaceful time, but these are all delusions. The gods spit at us with every waking moment and in your dreams they spit some more. Each desire you have is more dangerous than the last. We can never become human again, and we cannot afford to play games of pretend. Do not allow human thoughts and desires to infect your tainted heart. Do not welcome desire to rest and retire. Do not welcome the thoughts of a wife you could have had, the husband you never got to marry, or the children you'll never get to raise. These desires will slow you down, they will cause hesitation in the time of strife, and they will ruin you. You gave up your humanity so that others could fulfill those same desires, every village you save, every creature you kill, and every job you complete all leads back to allowing someone else to retire, to marry, or to raise children.
I bear the identity of an exile. You may know about me, or you may not, but I write my warnings with experience. Hate me, disregard me, or disparage me for my title if you must, but what you are reading is nothing less than the truth. Upon my banishment, my daughter was raised on the false pretenses of my manufactured betrayal, raised by a man who has let his still-beating humanity infect and corrode his faculties. No one will read this journal while I live and breathe, and so I assure you that without any personal gain or vendetta, that I am innocent of every charge laid upon me by the Burning Fang. Conflict within one of our orders is not a human problem. It is the only time we can and should be involved in playing petty games of bureaucracy. I will never redeem myself in the eyes of the order, nor will my daughter forgive me for what I am, but i cannot sit idly by as the order i was brought into is eaten from the inside by a gluttonous pig who knows not when to stop feasting. Do not be disgusted by fighting your kin. Do not be disgusted by ridding your order of the blight that infects it. It is, arguably, your most sacred duty to save the life of your kin. Without blood hunters, we consign the world to oblivion.
