Nathaniel the Hunter

Nathaniel the Hunter

My name is Nathaniel and it was given to me by my mother, from the tongue of her Grandmother's people. She told me once that it is twin to the human name, Feodor.

As a boy I would run errands and provide a ready audience for visiting wayfarers and swords for hire, many of whom had fought alongside my father in the wars in the Eastfold Duchies. (Often, as I later discovered, for both sides.) I have watched them fight, in jest and in drunkenness, in rage and in lethal earnest. It was they who called me Hunter believing me too narrow across the chest to make much of am honest warrior. But the name was taken to heart, and well chosen: my height and build allow me to see from afar and yet not be easily seen when I choose it, and much of the game in the family pot these past years has come from my snares or my bow.

I am already as easily mistaken for human as my father ever was: my face does not stand out from the mass of them at first glance despite for my narrow, subtly inhuman eyes, and my hair and skin have been moved from the angelic shades of childhood by sun and rain and earth, by work on the farmstead and the woods.

The full tale of my ancestry I never knew and it never really interested me: suffice to say I have l have human and elf on both sides.

And it is from the travelling warriors I take my outlook and my aspirations. From the older ones, especially: for an old warrior is a rare thing indeed, but those there were were always free with both coin and tales of martial cunning. I may know not where my fortune lies- bit it will come from men, not from small game, and I so I will need to start by seeing more of the world with my own eyes. I mean to start by trading my skills as a bowman or a courier, and then mayhap get myself accepted in a mercenary company.
I take my view of alliances from the men: vital, but not always permanent.

Thus, I start my quest for fortune and adventure… an arrow loosed from its bow, and seeking its target.