1. Characters

Ratyn Caine

Tressym
Scout (Rogue/Cleric)
Soldiers don't die for their country. They just die.


Ratyn Caine was born and raised in Whitlington Bridge without much wealth. Her family life devolved into some troubled times and she grew to hate it there. When she was old enough she joined the army in order to earn enough coin to get away to anywhere else.

She served in Thasslia's small standing army purely for the money to get away. She was a scout in a fairly renown squad - the Stormfarers - until during the Second War of Herun one of her reports was ignored. Seeing the writing on the wall, and finding the conflict fruitless, she deserted. Within the unit she was known for being fierce, skilled, but ultimately cold. For her uncanny ability to spot even the most hidden enemy she was given the nickname "Tressym"  -  the winged cat, a sign of good luck - a nickname she wasn't fond of.

She currently works in Tilley as a night guard and security specialist for Leopoldas Rumbutis's Bistre Estate putting her on a nocturnal sleep schedule. She mostly keeps to herself, and often walks with her hood up to cover the war tattoos - a permanent marking of her position in the war - on her face.

She is often seen with a Red Kite (Kuro) nearby, and recently townsfolk might have spotted a teddy bear tied near her quiver.

Her name is pronounced Ray-tin (or rating without the 'g')



Main art by /u/misils-art

Appearance

Hair
Black, long, braided

Eyes
Green

Skin
Pale

Height
165cm

Weight
140lbs

Other
She has red war tattoos around her eyes and down her chin, as well as a few others on her body

First Kill

Fine. If it means you'll leave me be: Don't know.

Don't look at me like that. I don't mean I forgot.

First was a pursuer something about fifty yards off. We were sloppy. Squad was caught. Planted my feet, drew to cheek, and knocked him off his horse. Couldn't confirm. They raised their mugs slapped my back that night, anyway.

Second was similar. Arrowshot into the distance, watched him fall. Never got close enough to see if he stopped breathing. Another night of toasts and cheers.

Third settled it once and for all. Right up close. Knife to throat. He didn't even know what was happening. Loud. Messy. Long...


That was the last toast for my first kill. They made fun of me for it. "Tressym might not have most kills but she has the most first kills!", "You needed two do-overs?" Some... more crude than others. All sorts.  I never asked them to celebrate even the once, but they ribbed me for it anyway. 

So, no. I don't know. Could have been the horseman, a man taking a piss in the woods, or the kid who gurgled on cobble. Or maybe it was a naïve little girl who thought someone might save her, and cried herself to sleep when they didn't. Doesn't matter. It all feels the same and we all die the same. 

Want some advice, though? Don't ask that of someone. I answered because if I didn't you would keep on.
And every time you ask... I remember.