Taiji

(let's assume such paws are a manifestation of, like, magic when she casts spells, and in reality she has normal hands — honestly the most fitting pic)

- Ugh, Rish, no, you can't, - the Teiosian said sternly, snatching the backpack from the teeth of her playful pet. The manticore grumbled in displeasure, but his gloom didn't last long — there were so many colorful butterflies around, so fun to chase! Leaving his mistress with the bag, the cat bounded off across the meadow, scattering the local wildlife.
Kafira watched her pet's antics and couldn't help but smile. For a long time now, this cheerful beast had been her companion and only friend. Of course, she'd heard about the danger of manticores, but when a limping ball of fur rolls out of the bushes at your feet, squealing pitifully and looking up at you with just-opened eyes, such thoughts are the last thing on your mind. You'd need superhuman cruelty to walk past, and Kafira wasn't one of those. At first, the traveler had a rough time — camping life is no place for children, even animal ones; because of the injured paw, she had to carry the kitten most of the time, and not everyone she met was eager to sympathize with a Teiosian. Still, Kafira didn't lose heart, and over time Zaorish (as she named her pet) grew into a small but proud representative of the manticore tribe. His friendliness, curiosity, and mischievous antics often put the Teiosian in awkward situations, but on the other hand, the manticore's loyalty and cleverness often saved Kafira from tough spots. The girl suspected her friend had been abandoned by his mother due to a coloration unusual for manticores, and these beasts were supposed to be bigger too (probably some sorcerer was involved, or the plague from the Dark Lands), but Rish suited her just fine as he was. As far as Kafira could remember, things never went well with two-legged folk.
Kafira was quite pretty even by her kind's standards, but when it came to talking, her tongue would stick to her throat, and all she could manage was incoherent bleating. She didn't fully understand why that happened, and the only consolation was this — she had still managed to easily re-charm a couple of slaves gifted by her best friend Benan on some occasion.
- Maybe I just have a crappy tongue, - Kafira noted her flaw without much distress.
- Don't worry, darling, - sweet-voiced Benan consoled her, casting a demonstrative glance at her friend's cleavage, - but everything else about you is hung just right.
Kafira only rolled her eyes and gave a nervous chuckle in response.
Surprisingly deftly, the Teiosian kept afloat when her state got dragged into the whirlpool of events. By fate's will, one morning Kafira woke up not in her usual Teios, but in Sintan, and when they asked what she could be useful for, she showed them a few fireball tricks learned ages ago. The performance was impressive enough for Kafira to be registered as a fire mage, but as it turned out, she spent most of her time at home minding her own business — perhaps precisely because of her withdrawn nature and tongue-tiedness. Though Kafira didn't mind that; bustling social activity wasn't to her liking, and only her friend's company kept her from rash decisions. But in one of the next upheavals, our heroine lost that pleasure — Benan was an activist and a hothead, and it was that very head she lost in one of the battles. Kafira held on for a while, trying to come to terms with the loss, then slipped into free roaming, taking advantage of the commotion stirred up around their ruler's incident. The country was in a right mess, and no one missed a lone sorceress.
Kafira had walked across half of Erathia, making a living with fire magic — lighting a fireplace here, roasting a chicken there, or a few bandits. In extreme cases, she had to resort to Teiosian charms as well, but although the girl had become somewhat more talkative, she was clearly severely lacking in oratory talent. In some places she wasn't welcome, sometimes she got beaten, and after Rish appeared, her life became even more eventful, but Kafira didn't lose heart and found a certain romance in this endless wandering.
Having accidentally overheard on the street of a small cozy town (and she could have settled there, had the manticore been more docile) some talk about the Limit, the Teiosian smirked and ruffled her friend's mane.
- What do you think, Rish? Sounds like something interesting there.
The manticore answered with an impatient grumble, shifting from foot to foot, as if ready to dash off right now, straight into the Dark Lands.
- I don't think the dangers there threaten us. But still, I hope someone will look after you if I dive into the thick of it.
Zaorish growled in displeasure, making it clear he wouldn't accept such a turn of events. Kafira crouched down and stroked the manticore.
- I don't want to part with you either, but I want to risk you even less. Though, I hope everything will be fine. Let's go, - she stood up and beckoned her pet with a nod. The manticore, tail raised like a trumpet and ignoring the wary glances of passersby, ran after her.
Now they had stopped, if Kafira's calculations were right, halfway to the nearest Limit headquarters. The Teiosian was rummaging through the thoroughly chewed bag, looking for the map (if only that insufferable beast hadn't eaten it), while the manticore carelessly chased butterflies.

Inventory:
A chewed but still sturdy backpack.
A few magic books (casting fireballs between the eyes for dummies).
Bandaging materials, "help yourself" medicines.
A rather worn map of Erathia with hand-made notes and a pencil.
A utility knife (for dressing a hare roasted by fireball, for example) and a whetstone.
A coil of rope.
Money.
A small pouch of magic stones for casting.

Race: Teiosian
Origin: Sintan
Stats (+ 300/15=20 points from experience):
Strength 0
Constitution 15
Agility 5
Perception 5
Speed 5
Intellect 30
Willpower 50
Wisdom 40
Charisma 0

Fire Mage

A. Fire magic damage +(wisdom)%
B. Burning. Deals (spell power*8) damage to the enemy.
C. Fire Shield. A character attacking the target in melee takes 100+(spell power*5) damage.
D. Raging Flame. Deals (spell power*14) damage to characters in a 5x5 area.

Companion




(I couldn't resist, 95% of manticore pics were horrifying cadavers the size of a well-fed dragon, I was already about to dig up some random crooked cat art from my stash, and then, as if on cue, this one — a bit crooked, but such a cutie, just purr-purr-purr, and it's separate too, so you can scale it as you wish)

Rish (Zaorish), mutant manticore (?)(Rhubarb said I can have a manticore, but I have no idea what they're like for him, so I'm blaming all inconsistencies on mutations) male, the size of a not-too-large St. Bernard. Included: venomous stinger - 1 pc, wing (functional) - 2 pcs, claws - 18 pcs, fangs - 4 pcs, horns (why he needs them, I have no idea, but since they're in the pic, let them be) - 2 pcs, mischievous personality - 1 pc. His quest entry describes him fine, I think. Basically a typical cat, quite agile, stealthy, with decent damage and a stinger, well, balance him as you see fit, ideally some mid-range stats work for me.
And yes, I'll feel worse about losing the cat than the champion.