Daerthe Veltharis

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Race:Uniya (Orc Dark Elf Hybrid)
Class: Bloodhunter - Order of the Lycan.

Goal: To find a way to cure herself of her lycanthropy.

Appearance: Daerthe takes after her orcish heritage in stature, standing nearly six and a half feet tall—towering above most elves and humans. Her build is muscular and battle-hardened, shaped by years of combat and long travels on foot. From her drow ancestry she inherited dusky skin with a purplish-grey cast, stark white hair, and striking crimson eyes. Her hair is kept short, brushing her shoulders, with a single braid bound by metal rings that falls along the left side of her face. Scars mark her body as expected of a seasoned warrior, the most prominent running from the base of her jaw across her right cheek. Her features are a blend of both bloodlines: small tusks jut subtly from her lower lip, while long, pointed ears mark her elven descent.

In her hybrid or full bear form, she grows several inches taller, her body covered in thick white fur that mirrors her natural hair—giving her the appearance of a pale, polar bear-like predator.

When it comes to gear, Daerthe carries only the essentials: a bedroll, tinderbox, rations and water for travel, rope, and a handful of practical supplies. She dresses in dark traveling clothes beneath black-dyed studded leather armor, with a harness across her chest to secure the sheath of her greatsword—her weapon of choice and constant companion.

Personality: Daerthe is most often described as stoic and blunt, with little patience for idle chatter or wasted time. She prefers to cut directly to the point, avoiding frivolity whenever possible. While she does care for others, she keeps most people at arm’s length—both for their safety and for her own peace of mind. On rare occasions, she allows herself a drink at a tavern, indulging in brief moments of simple enjoyment.

Her werebear lycanthropy has made her naturally gruff and quick to irritation, with a strong instinct for solitude and territory—even when in the middle of a town. Yet it also fuels her fiercely protective streak. Once Daerthe takes someone under her charge, she guards them with the ferocity of a mother bear, sparing no effort to keep them safe. Combined with her orcish blood, this gives her little tolerance for fools or those who talk too much.

Romantically, Daerthe has little experience with long-term commitment. Most of her relationships have been brief, casual liaisons with people she feels at ease around—often settling into a “friends with benefits” arrangement. Still, she has had a few more serious romances, and when she does, her protective nature extends to her partner as strongly as it does to family. The same is true of her friendships: she keeps few, but those who earn her trust find a steadfast ally, even if she maintains a professional distance with most others she encounters in her work as a monster-hunter.

Daerthe was born in the wastes of Xorhas, her father a wandeing orc mercnary and her mother a disgraced soldier from the Krynn dynasty. Due to the harshness of the wastes, she was forced to grow up quickly and learned to fight as soon as her parents could teach her to hold a weapon. Around the time of her seventh birthday her father took a job, his sword being the only thing brought back by his comardes. As a way to honor him, his mercenary band decided to take care of Daerthe and her mother. This was for less of an altruistic reason and more to keep a watch on Daerthe as she had been given a gift or more likely a curse by her father.

Years would pass with the group keeping a watch on Daerthe as she would soon feel the effects of what her father had left her, turning under a fullmoon into the form of a werebear. In order to protect her and teach control she ws sh ackled with silver bracelets and necklaces to keep her under control, feeling pain whenever she would begin to change. During this time her father's past was revealed, being a Bloodhunter trained in order to harness his lycanthropy as a weapon to fight the dangerous beasts that stalked Xorhas since the calamity. She would follow in his footsteps, learning to use her curse even thought she would resent it as it was always hard for her to control it.

As soon as she reached 16 years old she would begin to go on hunts with her father's and now her own comrades, having gained enough control to harness the power of her curse for short spurts in a fight. Things went well for a time until a difficult battle led to Daerthe being seriously wounded, only able to stand due to the battle rage that filled her. Things went into a blur and only cleared as she fell to her knees from pure exhaustion, having returned to her normal form. All she could sense was the smell and taste of blood, finding her hands and face covered in it. Not having memory of what happened she would later learn that the pain had made her curse go out of control and she had attacked and nearly killed her own mother who had helped in the fight.

Feeling that she needed to rid herself of the curse once and for all, the young uniya left Xhoras for the first time in her life. She traveled through the outskirts of the Dwendalian empire, avoiding most people at all costs. In order to cover some of her expenses she did a few odd jobs, most of them rather suspicious in order to hide her drow heritage. After nearly a year she managed to board a ship to Tal'dorei as she heard of several famous mages there that would be more likely to help her then the Cerberus Assembly.
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(A more setting neutral Backstory.)
Daerthe was born in a harsh, unforgiving land where survival depended on strength and cunning. Her father, a wandering orc mercenary, and her mother, a disgraced soldier who had abandoned her homeland, raised her to fight from the moment she could lift a blade. Childhood was a luxury Daerthe never knew; every day was spent learning to endure, defend, and survive.

When she was only seven, her father accepted a dangerous contract. His comrades returned carrying nothing but his sword. Out of respect—or perhaps fear—the mercenary band took Daerthe and her mother under their protection. Their watchful care was not born of kindness but caution, for they suspected Daerthe had inherited something from her father: a gift, or more likely, a curse.

As she grew, the truth revealed itself. On the full moon, Daerthe would transform into a werebear, a feral beast beyond her control. To keep her restrained, the mercenaries bound her in silver bracelets and chains that burned her skin whenever her blood began to stir. From them, she learned the truth of her father—he had been a Bloodhunter, trained to weaponize the lycanthropy that plagued him. Despite her fear and resentment of the curse, Daerthe followed in his footsteps, determined to master the beast within.

By the time she was sixteen, Daerthe had gained enough control to fight alongside the mercenaries, using the strength of her curse in short bursts. For a time, she felt she had found her place. But during one brutal hunt, she was gravely wounded, and the agony caused her control to slip. When the rage finally subsided, she awoke to the metallic scent of blood on her hands and the horror of realizing she had nearly killed her own mother in the frenzy.

Haunted by what she had done, Daerthe left the mercenary band and set out on her own, vowing to find a way to purge the curse. She traveled far from her homeland, avoiding settlements whenever possible, taking odd jobs—often the kind no one else would dare accept—to pay her way while concealing her heritage and her affliction. Her journey eventually brought her to distant lands, where she sought those with the power and knowledge to rid her of the beast that lurked within.