black fur and bat-like wings instead of arms. Her head is perfectly spherical, and she has long, black, straight hair. She also has two large pointed ears and two large, red, pupil-less eyes. On the “thumb” area of each of her wings is a three-fingered claw. Her body is thin and stick-like, and her feet end in three-digit claws…just like the ones on her wings. All her claws are actually thin, razor-sharp, double-edged blades, but they can still flex and function like actual digits.
[/spoiler]



erciless. She treats combat like ‘kill-or-die’ and will not go down without putting up a ferocious fight. In gladiatorial battles, however, she will spare the gladiator’s life only because she has to. Vamprina does have a softer side, but she rarely exposes it to friends and keeps it completely hidden from strangers.

Despite her dark nature, she can't stand the harm of innocent life and despises torture.
[/spoiler]











n her world. Her mother died because of it, and therefore could not recover Vamprina from where she’d hidden her. Abandoned, Vamprina would have died, but then she was adopted by some flying, serpentine bat creatures called Vamparin. They taught her the art of stealth, helped her fly, and loved her with all their hearts.

Later on, Vamprina left the nest and became accepted by a shady creature called Hissk. Hissk taught her how to be an assassin, and she excelled. Vamprina pulled off many amazing assassinations…all without getting caught once. In time, Hissk feared her talent and tried to kill her himself, but she overpowered him and left him with a scarred neck…but no more. Worried and slightly angry, Vamprina reported him to Lord Darkarcangel, who punished him severely but likewise let him live.

After that incident, Vamprina asked to move about her world freely, and Darkarcangel granted this to her. She explored her world as far and as wide as she could, and made may great discoveries. Later, an extraterrestrial attack prompted her to reawaken her deadly skills. She entered the alien craft and killed everyone on board, but not before it sent a distress signal out into space. Their mothership was notified, and that craft shot a massive blast towards Vamprina’s home planet. Just before the blast made contact, however, her long lost brother got in the way and sacrificed himself to save all of Stickkind.

Hurt, Vamprina went out into space, bent on avenging him, and got caught by a digital entity and taken to Stickpage Planet. There, she served as a gladiator for a time, just to mysteriously disappear many months later.

*Although this is the working story that we have for this gladiator, it’s all based off what Vamprina herself has told us. In the first couple years in the wRHG system, she changed the story’s beginning several times, tarnishing its authenticity.
[/spoiler]



[spoiler=Hunted]
Today is exciting, Marlowe thought to himself.

He was sitting in an old, wooden horse-drawn cart, listening to the sound of wheel and hoof as they clattered along the cobblestone path. With a heavy sigh, he fingered his bow, plucking at its string with his index finger. Nope. He still didn’t feel good about this.

The cart hit a deep rut, nearly jarring him from his seat. He shifted his position slightly, and a rush of winter wind blasted by, freezing his breath to ice. Shivering, he hunched his neck between his shoulders. His coat and pants were made of squirrel skins, and looked like a patchwork mess. To just about any observer, it was clear that this particular outfit was homemade. Though Marlowe was no expert in this type of work, he’d at least made sure to tighten all the seams.

“Hey, Marl.” a gruff voice said. “Getting cold yet?”

Tilting his head slightly, Marlowe allowed his gaze to travel across the rest of the faces in the cart.

Rick was the brown-eyed, red-haired brute that was teasing him. He wore an intimidating-looking bearskin with the head still attached. The head had been pulled up over his skull, almost serving as a hood. The rest of his face was taken up by a thick red beard, encrusted with the silvery glint of frozen breath. His clothing was mainly made of bearskin, and he carried a massive greatsword, which was slung in a heavy scabbard on his back. Even his gloves were bear-themed, and had been fashioned from actual bear paws. Whoever had done the job had purposely left the animal’s claws on the product; causing Rick to favor them very much.

The next hunter was James, a rather skinny fellow wrapped in deerskin. He had two gleaming shortswords lying across his lap. Their blades had slight hooks on the ends, and every curve of their design suggested that, clearly, they’d been made with utmost care. His hood came complete with some hollowed-out antlers, and he wore a dark-furred scarf that covered his face from nose to chin. His furs had been stitched tightly together, smoothing his body to near feline proportions. Knowing he was being observed, James made eye contact with Marlowe. At the sight of the man’s wild-looking amber eyes, the rookie quickly averted his gaze. James never said he didn’t like being stared at, but then again, he didn’t talk much to begin with. Still there was something unusually feral about those eyes of his. Some men said that he had been a savage living in the hills. Others, a miner beneath the earth, and even a retired bandit lord. Marlowe didn’t know what to believe, but the story about James being a savage seemed to fit him the most.

Beside James was a short, somewhat stumpy fellow in rabbit skins. His name was Brent, and rumor had it that he was a dwarf. He never confirmed if this was true, but, with that immense blonde-colored beard of his, it was hard to imagine him as anything other than one. The beard wasn’t that visible now. Brent had recently bought a massive black fur scarf, which, when wrapped about his neck, obscured nearly his entire face and beard, except for the tip. It stuck out in a ridiculous-looking tuft from the bottom of the scarf.

Beside Brent was his faithful wolf-dog Frost. The canine followed him everywhere, and was the sole reason that Brent was neither teased nor challenged…at least…not yet. So far, in all the taverns they’d been to, Brent and his wolf-dog were given a wide berth and drinks on the house. After all, who’d want to mess with a silver-toothed wolf anyways?

These three had decided to hunt with him. They’d been his friends for a long time; longer than he could remember. They’d been through only two major battles so far; each one involving protecting some innocent village from an ogre or dragon. Marlowe thought these had been great fun, but James had wanted more. He yearned for a real challenge…so that’s what the four had been looking to find for a long time. Marlowe, being the youngest member as well as the rookie, secretly wished this pursuit would never be fulfilled.

Much to his disappointment, Rick crossed paths with an old friend who brought rumors of a mysterious creature that roamed the forested lands.

Vamprina.

Tales of this beast had been scattered far and wide across the land, each one varying widely from the next. In fact, Marlowe was pretty sure that not many of these tale-tellers knew how Vamprina even looked like. Her appearance varied so much from one tale to the next, that once he’d even been told that she resembled a gryphon with three tails and an actual snake in place of her tongue! This was ridiculous of course. Everyone knew that the gryphons had been wiped out years ago by the pelt seekers.

Marlowe’s real fear, however, was not in the creature’s appearance, but what it did. Many had gone up against it…and all wound up dead one way or another. Outsiders called Vamprina a myth, a ghost story to scare children and gullible strangers, but the native hunters knew better. The bodies were real, and they’d all been killed the same way. Necks snapped back, and fang marks right through the jugular vein. Sometimes the bodies were impaled in places, and inspection of the wounds deemed that whatever the creature had used, it was sword-like and really, really sharp.

Honestly, he’d hoped more people would have interested in fighting the Vamprina monster. He had only three people to watch his back. Three…out of those 30 or so brave-looking warriors they’d come across. Marlowe wasn’t surprised. After all, the quarry they sought was quite out of the ordinary, to say the least. So far, the slightest whisper of her name ignited fear in the eyes of all who they’d told about it.

A brief, but sharp pinch of pain snapped him out of his reverie. Flinching, his grip tightened on his bow, but a burst of laughter beside him caused him to relax. Rick had pinched him, obviously looking for some sort of entertainment.

“Please…” Marlowe said, his voice soft. “…I don’t want to goof around right now.”

Rick huffed and mock-punched the rookie’s shoulder.

“Lighten up, little man.” he grunted. “We’ll be there soon. No use fighting an enemy with dampened spirits, am I right?”

Marlowe said nothing. He went back to fondling his bow. It was a little worn out, but its string was still in good condition. Seeing that he was being ignored, Rick snorted and turned to James. The savage just stared at him, and Rick quickly turned his attention to Brent. The dwarf nodded respectfully in his direction.

“Hey, Brent old buddy!” Rick cried, sounding a little too jovial, considering the situation.

“Yes, Rick my brother?”

“How about a song?”

The dwarf chuckled, his voice sounding quite muffled in his scarf.

“I’m afraid I can’t do much with this thing over my face. Winter freezes voices as well as water, you know.”

Before Rick could respond, the cart stopped moving. Smiling, he got up immediately.

“We’re here boys!” he cried, clapping his hands once. Frost barked, causing Brent to rub the wolf-dog’s head. The dwarf then rose as well, shortly followed by James. Marlowe was the last to get up, and kept looking about at the frozen forest encircling them.

“Driver…” Marlowe began. “Is this really our stop?”

“Yes.” the driver said curtly, slight fear edging his tone. “Please dismount using the step and have a nice…um…good luck.”

The warriors exited the cart in an orderly fashion, their boots sinking in the fresh snow. Taking long, silent strides, James came up beside the driver and paid him for his services. Marlowe watched, standing slightly behind Rick, rubbing nervously at his bowstring. Glancing to his right, he saw Brent inspecting his dagger. The weapon might be short, but, given the dwarf’s size, it could easily pass as a sword. James rejoined them, the puffs of his breath wreathing his face in mystifying smoke.

“Alright brothers!” Brent addressed the group, pointing with his dagger-sword. “This here’s the place we heard the demon was at. Come on.”

He walked off in the indicated direction without another word, his wolf-dog close behind him. James and Rick followed, but Marlowe hung back for just a moment, watching as the cart rattled off into the distance. The driver was hurrying it along quite quickly. Shaking his head, Marlowe hurried to catch up with the others.

The forest was alive with the songs of winter birds, and the occasional hiss of disturbed ice serpents, stirred by the passing troop. The snow here was not quite deep yet, its fall hampered by the wide spread of the tree branches above them. Aside from the birds and the ice serpents, there wasn’t an animal in sight. Marlowe continued after the others, confused. The monster had only been reported to kill humans, not animals. It had even spared the horses of the hunters that had been tracking it. He clenched his fists, trying to think of things more positive in nature.

At length, Brent paused, and Frost whined eagerly.

“Look at the trees.” the dwarf urged, and the party paused a moment to look about. Most of the trees around them were gouged with deep claw marks, and all were very high up the trunks. Marlowe strained to see the topmost scars, and felt a chilling sweat break out on his forehead, despite all the furs he was wrapped in. Given all the stories he’d heard, no one had ever mentioned how big the beast actually was.

Frost circled one of the marked trees, whining and sniffing as high on the bark as he could. Brent shook his head.

“That smell’s too high on the trees for you, old boy.” he grunted, folding his arms.

Rick snorted at the marks, unsheathing his greatsword and switching it from one hand to the other.

“Perfect.” he huffed. “Just perfect. We’re too late.”

Privately, Marlowe breathed a quick sigh of relief. Good. Now they could all go home and be safe. He looked up at the rest of his companions, ready to suggest that they should all give up, when he noticed James standing stiff and straight. The savage looked about quickly, and then drew both of his swords. The fur on the back of Frost’s neck bristled, and the wolf-dog growled deeply. Recognition dawned on Marlowe’s face.

“She’s here.” he breathed.

Now all of the warriors had their weapons out. They waited, tense, but heard nothing. Marlowe shot a quick glance in James’s direction. The look in his eyes confirmed the rookie’s suspicions. The forest was dead silent. Danger was close. Marlowe returned his attention to the frozen forest around him; his bow loaded and ready. He tightened his grip on the weapon, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

Suddenly, Frost barked, and as the warriors turned in the canine’s direction, a shadowed shape burst from the trees. It blazed right past them, too quick to focus on. As the warriors spun around, they realized that one of their allies was airborne. Brent surged away from them, most of his body shrouded by a blurred black shape. The dwarf was struggling and kicking, but his efforts were futile. Marlowe aimed his bow, but the mysterious winged thing vanished swiftly above the treeline, taking their companion with it. Rick barged in the direction Brent had gone, sword at ready. James and Marlowe followed, but Frost pulled ahead of everyone, barking fiercely a

July 5th? Welp, if you're feeling better before then and want a friendly spar, let me know!

Get well soon!

Quote from Cassandra

Mr. Happyman

So, does he usually go for the clown mask and bowie knife, hockey mask and chainsaw, or plague-doctor mask and butcher knife?

Legit, who the fuck except an insane slasher is named Happyman?

Le creep.

A sheet of paper with a yellow smiley face. God, do your stalking research

I already hunted down my answer, Crank. Still....

Unfortunately Mr. Happyman's going to have to live with the title he's given himself. Being in the company of a (wanted) assassin, the name may not be too bad. Plus, his skill with his weaponry is to be feared. Privately, Vamprina still calls him Hale, and he doesn't mind that. I'm thinking of designing a cloth "mask" for him too, something easier to remove than paper and duct tape. Then, he'd probably take it off when he feels safe. :)

About the assassinating, does she still actively take jobs? If so, does she have rules about what she will and won't take? Between the innocents deal and never coming off evil, feels worth the ask

Well, Vamprina's very interesting. Considering her background and moral alignment, I gotta wonder how she feels towards my puppeteer and his friends. Anyway I can't wait to have a match with her one day.

Quote from Crank

About the assassinating, does she still actively take jobs? If so, does she have rules about what she will and won't take? Between the innocents deal and never coming off evil, feels worth the ask

Noted, Crank. I've added a 'YOU READ TO GET HIRED?' section to deal with the question. :)

One quick question, are her blades attached to bone or to wing membrane?

Actually, her blades exist in a flexible, ribbon-like form beneath the flesh around her arm bones. When they come out, they harden and encase her second digit. So, yes, they technically act as a “replacement bone” when they are unsheathed.

I did struggle initially with the question of whether or not the blade was simply folded up really small inside her index finger; I even thought of making the blade a liquid that hardened as soon as it came out all the way. Now though, I like the idea of the way my tree beasts (see ‘The Tree Creatures’ under ‘My first wRHG, Vamprina’) had their blades “sheathed”, so I’m going to have hers do something similar to that as well.

I don't really have anything to say except that the you-can-see-her-when-you-close-your-eyes thing is really cool.

Thanks Euharmonics! Invisibility alone can be OP, and I didn't want the skill to limit her motions (e.g. she stays cloaked if she doesn't move) or have a time limit; time limits tend to be difficult to handle in writing...especially ones that take a couple minutes or less. Fight scenes often have a lot of action in a very short time (easy enough to animate or film that), but a writer has to describe the moment to a reader who is literally blind to their universe.

I then decided if you can't see her with your eyes open...why not with them closed? :)

If you close your eyes you can see her. But that means that we can't see anything else, right?

That's right Azarel.