Shemri

Shemri Floodbinder

Mental characteristics

Personal history

From the moment Shemri took her first breath, she was marked as different. Unlike most centaurs of her Clan, who bear only the strength of their ancestors, Shemri was born with small, budding antlers, a rare and powerful omen among her people. The elders whispered that she had been chosen by the spirits, though for what purpose, none could say.
Her mother, Bedesh Floodbinder, raised her with both pride and caution, knowing that Shemri’s unique nature would bring both reverence and scrutiny. Some in the clan believed the antlers were a gift from Skystrider, the god of unseen paths and destiny, while others feared she was touched by something older and wilder. But Bedesh refused to let superstition shape her daughter’s path. She trained Shemri as any warrior would be trained—to fight, to track, to survive.
Shemri grew into her own strength, learning the ways of the hunt and the wisdom of the elders. She had a restless spirit, always wanting to prove herself, always questioning the ways of the world. Her closest mentor, Tosh'Rand, saw her as both a little sister and a future leader, teaching her the art of war but warning her never to trust humans. Though she respected him, she also questioned his bitterness, sensing there was more to the world than just enemies and allies.
Everything changed on the night of her coming-of-age ceremony. As the sun set over the plains, Shemri stood at the heart of the sacred clearing, surrounded by her tribe. The shaman burned the sacred herbs, and the thick, blue smoke swirled around her. As she inhaled, the world shifted—the earth pulsed beneath her hooves, the stars danced, and a voice, vast and ancient, called her name.
Shemri found herself standing in a realm that was both sky and river, where the wind whispered secrets only she could hear. A great figure loomed before her—perhaps Skystrider, or something else entirely. It spoke not in words, but in feelings, in visions—of a storm brewing on the horizon, of a path yet unseen, of a choice that would shape more than just her own fate.
When she awoke, she did not speak of what she had seen—not yet. The others watched her with expectation, but she kept the vision close to her heart, unsure if she truly understood it herself.
Now, no longer a child but not yet a leader, Shemri walks a path both familiar and unknown. She seeks to understand the meaning of her vision, to prove herself worthy of her lineage, and perhaps, to forge a new destiny for herself and her people. Whether that path leads her to glory or ruin, she does not yet know—but she will face it, head held high, her antlers catching the light of the rising sun.