Sierra McCulland
This is an update for the D&D group I've joined recently, but all of you are welcome to have a look :D
Sierra leaned her head back against the rough bark of the large oak tree. She stared up through the vibrant leaves, thankful her mother had her hands full with her twin sisters. She would be too busy to come looking for her absent daughter. Mairi McCulland had, for the most part, given up the hope that her next to youngest would become a properly brought up young woman, but she still insisted on teaching her how to sew and cook on the off chance that Sierra would come to her senses and settle down. Sierra breathed in the scent of the forest. How could she ever leave this? The peace and majesty of the land called to her, with all its secrets and treasures. Her father was more than happy to teach her all he knew about the art of slipping silently and unseen through thicket and forest and the secrets of reading the passage of animals through the woods. Sierra smiled. Kell McCulland was a quiet man, steady and strong despite his short stature. He looked and spoke like no one else she knew, with bright blue eyes under heavy black brows and a soft, rolling brogue that she had often attempted to copy without success. She loved her father deeply, though she could never understand the sadness that always seem to surround him, the faint and bitter regret in his eyes. She had asked him about it once, but he had only replied that there had once been a mistake he could not have prevented making, and a person he had not been able to save. “But that was a lifetime ago lass, and far away from here. Best not to worries your wee head about it.” He had come from far away, everyone said so, appearing suddenly in their midst with naught but the cloths on his back and a sword the likes no one in their valley had ever seen. A mistake, he said.
A faint sound from the direction of the cabin brought Sierra’s head up and caused her to stiffen on the branch and strain her ears. Shouting. Why? Swiftly she slid off the branch and ghosted through the trees, taking extra care to avoid making noise. Bandits had been spotted in the area recently, and her father had taken pains to show her the peculiarities of human spores and human weakness. “Not many rangers know this Vista.” She never could figure out why he called her that. “Not many want to, but only fools ignore the more dangerous animals just because they’re rare.” She hadn’t understood that either, but listened to him anyways. Now, creeping through the underbrush, she was glad. In front of her Sierra could see signs of human passage, many large men carrying weapons, if the shorn branches and scrapes on the trunks of trees were any indication. They had passed through 100 paces away from her tree and she had heard nothing. Her pace slowed to a crawl, and fear tightened her throat, fear for her mother, her little sisters. But she continued to move cautiously. Another thing her father had taught her: “never go in hot lass, with your heart in the lead. Emotions ruling leads to things missed and mistakes made. Mistakes that could be your last.” Good advice. It would do her family no good if she was killed. The shouting was louder, coarse male voices speaking in a tongue she didn’t recognise, and she could make out something else now too. Screams. The distance from her tree to the cabin that had once seemed a blessing was now a curse and Sierra quickened her pace, sometimes the heart was too strong. By the time she reached the edge of the meadow Sierra was running, tears and sweat blurring her eyesight. The shouts and screams were silent, and she could see smoke rising into the sky as her home burned. Sierra stood frozen as she gazed across the clearing. Bodies littered the ground: her mother’s graceful form crumbled by the wash-line, her siblings tumbled bodies lying where they were cut down running for the forest edge. Farther away, towards the shed, she could just make out the sprawled body of her father, shot in the back as he was running for the sword he kept hidden in the shed. Sierra dropped to her knees next to his head. She hadn’t remembered crossing the intervening space. There was an expression of rage and determination on his face, and the regret was gone from his eyes, leaving only the bitterness and a fear for the lives he had valued above his own. Sierra gently shut his eyes and stared dully at the ruins of her home, her life. Now what was she to do? Sadness filled her, sadness and growing determination.
Sierra McCulland was born the third child of five from Mairi and Kell McCulland. She is a first generation native of Ravenloft on her father’s side, Kell having been transported to the demi-plane by a mysterious means years ago. He arrived with a sword of exceptionally quality, the likes the people of the sleepy valley had never before seen, and a knowledge of both the forest and shadows that none of them knew. This knowledge he passed on to Sierra, who was most like him both in appearance and attitude. Sierra herself is a small, slender woman often mistaken for a young boy, if an unusually pretty one. She keeps her thick black hair cropped short and bright blue eyes gaze out from a sun-darkened face. Her cloths are appropriate for blending into natural surroundings, and she carries with her her father’s sword and a short bow.
After the murder of her family by a marauding group of bandits Sierra moved to the larger town near where she lived. With the equipment she had been able to salvage from the ruins and the money she had discovered in the same hiding place as her father’s sword Sierra began a career as a bounty hunter, using all the skills and knowledge taught to her by Kell to hunt down criminals.
Sierra leaned her head back against the rough bark of the large oak tree. She stared up through the vibrant leaves, thankful her mother had her hands full with her twin sisters. She would be too busy to come looking for her absent daughter. Mairi McCulland had, for the most part, given up the hope that her next to youngest would become a properly brought up young woman, but she still insisted on teaching her how to sew and cook on the off chance that Sierra would come to her senses and settle down. Sierra breathed in the scent of the forest. How could she ever leave this? The peace and majesty of the land called to her, with all its secrets and treasures. Her father was more than happy to teach her all he knew about the art of slipping silently and unseen through thicket and forest and the secrets of reading the passage of animals through the woods. Sierra smiled. Kell McCulland was a quiet man, steady and strong despite his short stature. He looked and spoke like no one else she knew, with bright blue eyes under heavy black brows and a soft, rolling brogue that she had often attempted to copy without success. She loved her father deeply, though she could never understand the sadness that always seem to surround him, the faint and bitter regret in his eyes. She had asked him about it once, but he had only replied that there had once been a mistake he could not have prevented making, and a person he had not been able to save. “But that was a lifetime ago lass, and far away from here. Best not to worries your wee head about it.” He had come from far away, everyone said so, appearing suddenly in their midst with naught but the cloths on his back and a sword the likes no one in their valley had ever seen. A mistake, he said.
A faint sound from the direction of the cabin brought Sierra’s head up and caused her to stiffen on the branch and strain her ears. Shouting. Why? Swiftly she slid off the branch and ghosted through the trees, taking extra care to avoid making noise. Bandits had been spotted in the area recently, and her father had taken pains to show her the peculiarities of human spores and human weakness. “Not many rangers know this Vista.” She never could figure out why he called her that. “Not many want to, but only fools ignore the more dangerous animals just because they’re rare.” She hadn’t understood that either, but listened to him anyways. Now, creeping through the underbrush, she was glad. In front of her Sierra could see signs of human passage, many large men carrying weapons, if the shorn branches and scrapes on the trunks of trees were any indication. They had passed through 100 paces away from her tree and she had heard nothing. Her pace slowed to a crawl, and fear tightened her throat, fear for her mother, her little sisters. But she continued to move cautiously. Another thing her father had taught her: “never go in hot lass, with your heart in the lead. Emotions ruling leads to things missed and mistakes made. Mistakes that could be your last.” Good advice. It would do her family no good if she was killed. The shouting was louder, coarse male voices speaking in a tongue she didn’t recognise, and she could make out something else now too. Screams. The distance from her tree to the cabin that had once seemed a blessing was now a curse and Sierra quickened her pace, sometimes the heart was too strong. By the time she reached the edge of the meadow Sierra was running, tears and sweat blurring her eyesight. The shouts and screams were silent, and she could see smoke rising into the sky as her home burned. Sierra stood frozen as she gazed across the clearing. Bodies littered the ground: her mother’s graceful form crumbled by the wash-line, her siblings tumbled bodies lying where they were cut down running for the forest edge. Farther away, towards the shed, she could just make out the sprawled body of her father, shot in the back as he was running for the sword he kept hidden in the shed. Sierra dropped to her knees next to his head. She hadn’t remembered crossing the intervening space. There was an expression of rage and determination on his face, and the regret was gone from his eyes, leaving only the bitterness and a fear for the lives he had valued above his own. Sierra gently shut his eyes and stared dully at the ruins of her home, her life. Now what was she to do? Sadness filled her, sadness and growing determination.
Sierra McCulland was born the third child of five from Mairi and Kell McCulland. She is a first generation native of Ravenloft on her father’s side, Kell having been transported to the demi-plane by a mysterious means years ago. He arrived with a sword of exceptionally quality, the likes the people of the sleepy valley had never before seen, and a knowledge of both the forest and shadows that none of them knew. This knowledge he passed on to Sierra, who was most like him both in appearance and attitude. Sierra herself is a small, slender woman often mistaken for a young boy, if an unusually pretty one. She keeps her thick black hair cropped short and bright blue eyes gaze out from a sun-darkened face. Her cloths are appropriate for blending into natural surroundings, and she carries with her her father’s sword and a short bow.
After the murder of her family by a marauding group of bandits Sierra moved to the larger town near where she lived. With the equipment she had been able to salvage from the ruins and the money she had discovered in the same hiding place as her father’s sword Sierra began a career as a bounty hunter, using all the skills and knowledge taught to her by Kell to hunt down criminals.