WS 40 BS 30 S 30 T 40 Ag 35 Per 35 Int 30 WP 35 Fel 30
Movement: 3/6/12/24 Wounds: 15 Armor: 0/0/0/0 Insanity: 4 Corruption: 0
Skills: Acrobatics, Common Lore (Homeworld), Dodge, Linguistics (Low Gothic), Stealth, Survival
Talents: Weapon Training (Melee, Primitive), Light Sleeper, Keen Senses (Smell, Hearing)
Traits:
Gear: Recruit robes
First memory you have is the curious small suns on the night-sky, and how your father explains to you that they are not suns but chariots of the sky-gods. You were just a child, barely old enough to understand his words, but the fascination with those distant lights sparked something deep within you.
Your father, Rurik Mielke, was the chieftain of your tribe on the Imperial feudal world of Nastoria, a harsh and unforgiving place where the sky-gods demanded sacrifices in the form of laborers and warriors from the tribal-vassal societies like yours.
As the firstborn of Chieftain Rurik, you were destined to follow in his footsteps, to learn the ways of leadership and rule over your people. But you were also a girl, and tribal customs dictated that your place was to be a quiet presence, a future wife to a strong warrior chosen by your father. This was a life you could not accept.
Against your father’s wishes and the traditions of your tribe, you began to secretly learn the arts of hunting and combat. You watched the tribal warriors as they trained and practiced with their crude weapons, and you imitated them when no one was looking. Knives, spear, and throwing axe became your closest companions, and you practiced tirelessly, honing your skills in the shadows.
The hardships of the hunter-gatherer life on Nastoria had honed your senses and survival skills. You could track the movements of animals, identify edible plants, and navigate the treacherous terrain with ease. You were swift, agile, and your aim with a throwing axe was uncanny.
Your father soon noticed that you were different from the other girls. While they spent their days weaving, cooking, and tending to domestic duties, you spent yours in the wilderness, mastering the arts of the warrior. He tried to dissuade you, to make you conform to the expectations of your gender and station, but your spirit was unyielding. You had a fierce temper, an unquenchable desire for independence, and a sense of barbaric honor that compelled you to prove your worth.
One day, as the cold winds of winter began to bite, you embarked on a perilous hunt. A sabre-tooth bear, a monstrous and deadly creature, had been terrorizing your tribe’s hunting grounds for weeks. Your father ordered you to stay behind, to leave the hunt to the experienced warriors. But you were determined to prove yourself.
You ventured deep into the snow-covered forests, your knives, spear, and throwing axe ready. The battle with the sabre-tooth bear was fierce and unforgiving. The beast’s claws and fangs were like daggers of death, and its roars echoed through the woods.
But you were relentless, your determination burning like a wildfire. Your heart, full of the vengeance for your tribe, drove you forward. After a long and brutal struggle, you emerged victorious. The head and pelt of the sabre-tooth bear were your trophies, and you carried them back to the tribe, your body battered but your spirit unbroken.
Your father, though reluctant and wary, couldn’t help but feel pride swell within him as you presented your trophies. He knew then that his daughter was no ordinary girl. The tribe gathered around, and Rurik Mielke, your father and chieftain, announced to all that you were now a Great Huntress, a protector of the tribe.
A few years later:
In the mid-winter night sky, I could see a stream of light, the sign of an arrival of the god-chariot. The entire tribe gathered, their eyes fixed on the celestial phenomenon with a mixture of awe and fear. The sky-gods’ voice echoed through the heavens, a booming command that resonated in our hearts and minds: each tribe must send their best warrior to the camp of the sky-gods.
The gods remained hidden from the tribes, their true forms a mystery. But the champions chosen to meet them were bringing gifts of art, medicine, and fine furs. These offerings were meant to honor the gods and ensure their favor.
My father, Chieftain Rurik Mielke, looked at me with a blend of pride and sorrow. As the best warrior of our tribe, the decision was clear. I, Airene Mielke, the Great Huntress, would represent our people. With a heavy heart, I gathered the finest furs, the rarest herbs, and the most exquisite carvings from our artisans. These would be my gifts to the sky-gods.
The journey to the camp of the sky-gods was arduous. Warriors from all tribes converged, each with the same purpose: to prove their worth and to honor the gods with their gifts. The camp was a sprawling arena, surrounded by towering structures of metal and stone, unlike anything I had ever seen. The air was thick with tension and the unspoken promise of bloodshed.
In the arena, the battles were brutal and unrelenting. Champions clashed against each other with ferocity, their skills and strength tested to the limit. I fought with every ounce of my being, my knives, spear, and throwing axe becoming extensions of my will. The survival instincts honed in the wilds of Nastoria guided me, and one by one, I overcame my opponents.
When the dust settled over the bloody corpses and the cries of battle faded, a group of men in robes emerged. Their presence commanded silence as they began to allocate the survivors to various Imperial ordos. Each surviving warrior was chosen for a specific purpose, their destinies intertwined with the will of the sky-gods.
A man in robes approached me, his eyes piercing and his demeanor solemn. “The God-Emperor demands your service in the Ordo Assassinorum,” he declared. His words were a decree, binding and absolute. My heart raced as the weight of his statement settled upon me.
As I was led to the shuttle, my mind raced with questions. What kind of gods would I meet on my path? What trials awaited me in this new chapter of my life? The shuttle’s engines roared to life, and the ground fell away as I ascended into the heavens.
Ignis Aeternus WH 40K campaign notes 