Wildling
Spending months alone after her "birth" scavenging in a marsh, Voleur drew close to a village. She was enraptured by the bustle of market, and by the lovely clothes and baubles adorning the womenfolk. She wanted to fit in, join them in their daily lives seeing no reason aside fear to keep her back. She began stealing, first a mixmatched array of clothes since she noticed she was nude, where they all had such pretty covering. Food, too when she could manage. A hunter noticed her on his trips through the marsh to and from the main village. He attempted to lure her, but progress was slow going. He began with leaving food out, and waiting to watch her take it. Same with a simple dress, clean water, jerky, fruit and other small things. Progress was slow, but he was a patient man.
The Huntsman's Daughter
The hunter attempted to befriend Voleur a little longer than a month. Unfortunately one day, Voleur was cornered by angry and frightened men of the village while she waited for the huntsman. They sought to slay her for being a wild Daemon and to take back some things she stole from the village- clothes, a necklace, some food. Unexpectedly, the old hunter arrived and chased them off. He carried the young daemon, over his shoulder despite the struggle, to his home. There she met his three sons, and in less time than you'd think, integrated into their family. She quickly learned the language Aedul, and the human religion of Aedrell. He taught her etiquette as best as he could, along with more practicalities- fishing, hunting, making brine and survival. Once she seemed ready, he brought his newly 'adopted' daughter to the village. He knew that news traveled fast, and sent his youngest ahead to tell his friends. By the time the hunter and Voleur arrived, most of the village had gathered in anticipation. A Daemon had never lived among humans before, and there were many wild rumors circulating by this point. Yet she pulled out everything she learned; returned the items she stole, and apologized to the women folk- complimenting them and explaining she just wanted to be as pretty as them. She apologized to the men folk for making them frightened for their families, and the huntsman supplied each with a small bundle of jerky or pipeweed. Lastly, she approached the Aedulan temple and asked the priest to anoint and name her as a member. Shocked, he asked what she would want to be named. She requested Voleur- her father told her it meant "thief" in the language of scholars to the north, so that she would carry the weight of her actions through life. Confused and flustered, the priest said he would consider it in time, but must first ask the blessing of the head religious temple out in Aedul Val. She thanked him graciously, and the family returned home. She made a well enough impression that most people left them alone, or were even friendly after the day she initially came to village. In time, the hunter took her with him to sell on market days, too. However, others made it abundantly clear that they felt no Daemon should be among polite Human society.
Seeking the Truth
After a happy period living among her adoptive family, Voleur felt at ease with her Human neighbors. Most seemed to have had a change of heart about her, or at least got tired of complaining openly. She was fully involved in her family's work, and occasionally sent to run their stall at market (escorted by a brother). One night, coming home especially late from trapping, Voleur and one of her brothers were stopped by a breathless and panicked friend of their father. The older man had come to find them. He hurried them home, explaining along the way what had transpired: Apparently a "concerned citizen" had notified the nearest Candida church authorities about the Daemon living among humans, and received his message of "Affirmation" that morning by courier hawk. The message stated that a squad had sent to 'purify' their village. The citizen had been bragging about it earlier around the temple. Word thankfully reached ears sympathetic to Voleur and her family, who took the news to her home. Their father had taken their bull out North to find shelter for her, while others kept watch from trees, and her two other brothers waited impatiently with swords guarding their home. As they arrived home, they found their father hurriedly packing a goat, and arguing with an impressive, elderly Daemon (over the packing weight). Apparently they had just received word that the Inquisition was seen nearing the swamps, and Voleur was to leave immediately with this Daemon. Upset, scared and stubborn, Voleur refused to leave. Frantic shouting and yells came nearer, signaling the arrival of the Inquisition. The elderly Daemon scooped up Voleur, riding off. Helpless, she watched her family and friends half circle away from her, watching the darkness and trees. She could hear a melee in the distance as they rode off in the swamp, and she could have sworn she heard her father's death cry.
She now lives with one of the few Daemon tribes (at this point, there are four), who call themselves the Vera. They're a philosophical, forward thinking sect of Daemons trying to establish small villages and relations in Human lands. Voleur doesn't get along with her new "village" at all. She resents being there and is disgusted by her inhuman looking kin. She is especially angry that all of her attempts to reach her family are continually blocked by their chief, the elderly Daemon who rescued her. In turn, the Daemons despise her for being so soft and spoiled- while envying the chance she had to live among Humans. Some tease her about not knowing her personal ability yet, or for her impractical (and falling apart) clothing. Her only friendly companion is her family's bull, whom her father left there to ride back with the chief on his faster goat. The Vera camp puts her to work alternating between hunting fowl, and patrolling the palisade.
Voleur: L4D Edition:
Enslaved by a daemonic warlord and forced to train for his slave army, Voleur is terrified of the others "of her own kind" that she encounters. After she shows promise, the warlord orders her to be trained by his personal guards so she may join their ranks. Involved in her training was a mission where she was ordered to assault a human caravan. She refused and attempted to fight against her captors. Not only did she fail, but the people were brutalized as she was forced to watch. Then she was beaten by the warlord and his guard to near death- gouging her eyes and breaking off her horns as well. She wakes up alone and in darkness, yet still tries to crawl away to escape. She doesn't know why, but she feels compelled to go along a certain direction...
Rescued by Gypsies
The recent conquest of eastern human territories has meant an increase of unsettled and nomadic folk, but the land of Isole always has had a few roaming bands of mystics. Most worship the earth and try to live similarly to humanity's ancestor-kin, Titans. One such group, lead by a wizened matriarch, finds Voleur after the attack. She leads them to the human caravan before accepting any help herself, but there were no survivors. Several of the women folk helped care for Voleur and her wounds. Once she was well enough to walk, the matriarch proposed she stay for a time and continue to rest, as long as she helped the caravan. She learned various dances through awkward methods, and found she was much more adept with fortune telling. She had no way to tell how accurate she was, but many seemed to leave the tent happy when it was her turn for divining fortunes. After a long while, the matriarch asked Voleur why she had obviously healed so well in other ways, but had not chosen to regrow her horns or eyes. Voleur had no idea that this was an option. Demons and Candida are, in this universe, concentrated masses magical energy that have gained sentience. They can have greater control over their bodies if their power is strong enough, though over using magic will deplete and dissipate their form. She trained for nearly a year under the woman's eye, honing her magical ability and self control. In time, her horns began to grow in. Her eyes grew in as well- much slower, and now purple as opposed to their original blood red. She did not remain with them long after, however, to fully take advantage of her newly healed form.
The Young Mercenary:
Voleur has recently regained her vision after being left for dead by the warcamp that enslaved her. Horns broken and eyes gouged, it took a long time to recover. For some reason, her eyes regenerated to be purple instead of their old blood red. Her horns aren't smooth like they once were, now always aching and splintering off in jagged points along the shaft. After the gypsies who nursed her are attacked to get to her, she strikes out on her own. With wisdom and insight to her powers from the caravan matriarch, Voleur is feeling fairly self assured. She begins hanging around outside human settlements, offering protection or her services hunting foul beasts. She's still new to being a mercenary and occasionally is overly formal, or shows mercy in unexpected places. She takes up drinking now to cope with her past, guilt, and adjusting to her new life on the road.
The Worn Mercenary:
After sometime as a mercenary, Voleur has grown into her new life fairly comfortably. Her horn's splinters have grown into unique curls. She has been practicing and honing her abilities still, as the old gypsy woman told her. To keep from drawing attention from her former master, other daemons and religious inquisition squads, Voleur tends to keep to herself and travel alone between settlements to offer her services. Her strength and novelty keep her coin purse fat, even though there were more than a few towns that would have sooner strung her up than employ her. She puts on a boisterous front in the spirit of showmanship, but the loneliness and guilt of her adoptive family's possible deaths eat at her. At this point, she seems to keep it up in the same way that sharks keep swimming- you stop, you die. She occasionally thinks about the gods when these times get the worst of her; about the love and forgiveness of Aedrell, the freeness of Ael and Sonafidir, the impartial justice and honor of The Huntsman. She wonders sometimes if there's a meaning, or if servitude to a deity may at least allow her rest.
