Unnamed

A male blue-skinned tiefling with broad blue wings, dressed in layered dark cloaks that break up his silhouette in dim light. He carries a magical bow that folds and twists into a pair of hooked sickles, their edges drinking warmth and vitality from wounded foes. Ravens gather around him in a restless flock, perching on his shoulders, wings, and bow. His hidden pockets hold small trophies—buttons, cracked fasteners, and glass vials filled with strange red fungi. His gear bears the restrained marks of a blood hunter: stained bandages, narrow glass tubes, and tools meant for drawing and preserving blood.

He learned to hunt in the blue-shadowed ravines where his wings made him conspicuous against the snow and his horns made him unwelcome in village markets. A wounded raven became his first companion after he found it caught in a poacher’s snare; nursing it back to health taught him the calls that now summon an entire flock. Later, a blood hunter showed him how to mark arrows with controlled doses of his own blood, turning each shot into a measured curse. The hunter vanished after investigating a patch of red fungus growing around a battlefield, leaving behind the transforming bow and a warning: never burn the mushrooms, and never let them touch an open wound. Since then, he has followed raven flights and fungus blooms from one killing ground to the next, preserving every clue in glass and every forgotten button as proof that the dead once belonged to someone.

He prefers the edge of a room, the space beneath a stair, or the branch above a road. When forced into conversation, he answers in short, precise sentences and lets the ravens fill the silence. He turns every recovered button over in his fingers before pocketing it, and labels each vial of red fungus with the place and date where it was found. He trusts birds more readily than people and treats a raven’s sudden alarm as a warning worth obeying.

He assumes every gift has a hidden cost and can ruin an alliance by searching for the price too openly. He keeps dangerous specimens long after they should be destroyed, convinced that one more observation will reveal their purpose. If someone steals or mocks one of his trinkets, he pursues the offender with more patience than mercy. He also risks himself to protect ravens, even when doing so exposes his position or abandons a better tactical choice.

He wants to find the source of the red fungus before it spreads through the lands he hunts. He seeks the missing blood hunter who taught him the rites and intends to learn whether the transforming bow was a gift, a weapon, or bait. Every button he collects is meant to identify a dead traveler, and every vial is meant to preserve evidence until he can return to the place where it was found.