Name: Sha’hira Mournbearer
Height: 8’4”
Weight: 382 lbs.
S/O: Unknown
Age: 31
Nationality: Unknown
Species: Caprine

Sha’hira is a quite unfortunate case, with most of her unusual mannerisms stemming from a rather rocky past.

Her life began in a village, with a loving family, composed of a mother and father, with her being the only child. Her early childhood was ordeal, with her being a very sociable child, making many friends in a prosperous time, where food was plentiful, and no one in the village went home hungry at night. She was described quite commonly as a bright child, being extraordinarily smart, if a bit too chatty.

Prosperity, it seems, attracts the eye of those who lack it, as her village was laid to siege when Sha’hira was 12. Her father was one of the men called upon to defend the village, being an able-bodied man, and he met his fate in the village, burning along with the structures and people he fought to save.

Her mother had different goals in mind, taking her daughter outside of the village, to the surrounding forest. She hid Sha’hira, telling her to not speak or raise any alarm until she returned. Unfortunately for the young child, her mother never returned, having been stabbed by one of the invaders mere moments after she parted with her.

A dedication and trust in her parents led her to stay in her hiding spot for days, with hunger and worry being the factors that led her to return to the smoldering ruins of her village, laden with the bones of the people she had known for her whole life. The sight was unlike anything she had known prior, and along with the last words of her mother, she fell silent, not being able to force herself to call for anyone who might have survived.

The only items she took from the wreckage were the belongings of her father, the first being his axe.

She looked up to him as a strong man, someone who she wanted to be like, he had made several promises to teach her how to use it like him.

The second was his helmet, a piece of armor hardly used, finding its home on the mantle of their fireplace, collecting dust until the fateful day when it was worn by him for the last time.

The third was his wedding band, the only physical item that served as a reminder of her mother, who she had not seen since their last parting, and of whom she would never see again, as a living, breathing person, or as a corpse.

From that point onward, she lived on her own, spending her teenage years scrounging for food, her silence that was spurred on by her trauma making it impossible for her to beg. Her life only improved when she had gained enough strength to wield a weapon, where she began to take on bounties and raid ruins in hopes of finding her next meal.

With no social life to speak of, all of her time was dedicated to fighting, training, and traveling, causing her to become an expert at all three of those skills without any form of actual education, her experiences and intuition serving as her teachers.

To those whose bounties she fulfilled, she was an enigma, a masked stranger who never spoke, and one who completed jobs with deadly efficiency, and one who would strangle anyone who attempted to strongarm her out of her payment, or, god forbid, try and see what was under her mask. Her sensitivities over her appearance under her helmet were hardly ever personified, but when they were, they came out as violent paranoia, the act of viewing her true face is nothing short of a death sentence.

It could be said, however, that she would be willing to open up to someone, though the depth of her relationship to this person would be nothing short of marriage, and given her antisocial nature, such a fate is not destined for her.

(Art by  pakaproductions)