Eiji the Hyrkanian
Eiji was a character I played in my friend Steve's D&D game. He was running a game set in Robert E. Howard's Hyboria using a set of rules he'd found on the internet. While the game started out using D&D 3rd edition, we switched to version 3.5 after the updated rules were released. The misadventures of Eiji and her companions took them from the city of Arenjun (in Zamora) all the way to Sultanapur (in Turan). It was in Turan that the game came to an end (at least, for the present).
        What follows is Eiji's tale, a brief description, and her stat block. With some alterations, she can be introduced into just about any campaign that possesses a Mongol-like nomadic ethnic group (such as the Tuigan of the Hordelands in the Forgotten Realms campaign setting).
        On the technical side, it should be noted that Hyrkanians in the Hyborian setting that Steve used gain a +2 bonus to Dexterity, and a +2 racial bonus to both Ride and Spot skills. If pulled into another setting, these bonuses should be taken into account and the character should be modified accordingly. Characters also lacked alignments, though I've placed my approximation of Eiji's in parenthesis within her stat block.

Eiji's Tale
She had run away from her people at the age of fourteen, on the eve of her own wedding.
        As an only daughter, she was to be honored as the Khan's son's bride. The other girls envied her, for the Khan's son was handsome and bold, and she was to be his first wife. First wives forever held the hearts (and horses) of their husbands. Those wives and children that came afterward, though perhaps igniting new desires in their husbands, could never aspire to such a position. They were likened as to horses or property, status symbols and demonstrations of virility.
        Eiji had not wanted it, but the choice was not hers to make. She was honored, certainly, but no amount of honor could sway her from the feeling that she was being sentenced to a life of loneliness at the side of this handsome warrior. Her father had beaten her when she had questioned the marriage, which had been arranged while the men were campaigning in the west.
        "Not her face!" Mother had cried to Father, her eyes wet with tears. "He will not marry her if you bruise her face!"
        Father had not bruised her face. Great care had been taken to ensure that her pleasant visage remained unsullied. "Do not question me, child," he admonished her between blows. "The Khan's son is a better husband than you deserve, but fortune has smiled upon your family this day. You will bear this marriage whether you like it or not."

The Khan's son had come the next day to view his future bride. He was older, masculine, his brow scarred in such a way that his good looks were accentuated instead of mutilated. He smelled of the saddle, of sweat and of leather. He and Father sat in the family tent and talked of their adventures in the west while her brothers sat and listened. She served them coffee, always aware that the gaze of her husband-to-be rarely left her.
        Their eyes met but once that evening, and risking impertinence, she held his stare. A brief smile curled at the corner of her groom's mouth after some moments of this. The silence in the tent was almost audible, but the Khan's son broke it with a chuckle. "How old are you?" he asked her, his voice soft.
        All eyes turned to her and the color rose in her cheeks. "Fourteen summers," she answered, her eyes dropping to her shaking hands. He had nodded then, thoughtfully, and resumed his conversation with Father.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were filled with busy days and tearful nights. Seeing the Khan's son, having spoken to him, however brief the exchange, had awoken in her young heart an intense desire for the man. Yet, above this yearning and infatuation, her own pride loomed like a terrible shadow. Her choice had been made for her, and despite her girlish obsession, she could not abide the helpless feeling that she was somehow lost to her father's ambition.
        Members of clans from far and wide began to arrive, erecting their camps around the Khan's as a sign of respect. Many brought horses, bows, blades, and silk, gifts intended for the Khan's son and his new bride. Future in-laws came to meet her, and the words on their lips were always the same.
        "He is blinded by his loins, wedding one so young," said one distant cousin or aunt. "He would be better with an older, wiser wife." The other visitors nodded seriously at this hurtful comment, their eyes disapproving and stinging like arrows.

A feast had been planned, and the smell of it drifted across the camp. Savory aromas conquered the earthier smells of the horses, the sounds of the celebration drowning out the whinnies and neighs of the herd. Eiji walked amongst them, dressed in the clothes of her younger brother, Turei. She had made up her mind to leave, both to save the Khan's son from the dishonor of taking an adolescent girl as his first wife, and to ease her own aching pride. In the end, the choice would be hers.
        She sought out one of the gift horses, a youthful gray mare with eyes the color of an overcast sky. She clutched a fine shortbow, unstrung, in her left hand, and a bundle of clothes in her right. She had already saddled the horse, and it waited for her, ears poised and alert. Eiji moved close and stroked the beast's forehead tenderly. She was, after all, Hyrkanian, and horses had been her closest companions since birth.
        The merrymaking in the camp grew louder for an instant, with deep, bellowing laughter rising above the sounds of snorting horses around her. She knew it wouldn't last. Once they discovered that she had gone, the feast would end. They would come searching for her, but she intended to be far away by then. Swinging up into the saddle easily, she placed the bundle between her knees and began to trot the gray mare towards the perimeter of the camp.
        A shout from behind her: "Thief!" The guards had seen her. Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she could see two of the clan's youths moving quickly towards her. With a curse, she dug her heels into the mare's flanks and bolted into the night.

They had tracked her for two days, dogging her heels like wolves. Eiji was exhausted, having known little rest since she had left, save snippets of sleep snatched in the saddle. Bright moonlight trickled down from the sky, painting the rolling steppe like a silver blanket. If only she could crawl under that blanket and sleep for a few hours, comforted by the swishing of the wind in the grass.
        A whistling woke her from her longing, a piercing whine that echoed across the sky like a thousand sickly songbirds. A signal arrow! Scouts from her camp would not be far, and if they had seen her, the signal was likely designed to draw more men to her location. Muttering under her breath, she spurred the wearied mare to a gallop. The beast went without protest, bending its head into the wind as its pace quickened.
        A rider emerged from the silver-lined gloom behind her, his body held close to the mane of his mount as he pressed the pursuit. Eiji cried out her dismay as the rider drew closer, knowing full well that she could not outrun his horse. The beast he rode was fresher than hers, and faster still than the gray mare would have been under normal circumstances. It was only a matter of time.
        The rider, crouched down behind his horse's neck, drew forth an arrow from his quiver and knocked it. Rising slightly, he drew his bow and aimed a split second before loosing his shaft. The arrow's flight was true and practiced, and it struck Eiji between her shoulder blades. Sharp, damning pain stunned her, and she tumbled from the saddle. The tall grass broke her fall, and she rolled several yards before coming to a halt. A blunted arrow, designed to stun, lay in the grass several feet away.
        The rider thundered past her, his horse voicing its protest as he reigned it to a sudden stop. Dismounting, he drew forth a blade and crept towards Eiji's panting form. The silver moonlight reflected from the folded steel of his saber. "If you wish for a quick death, tell me where the girl is."
        Eiji, wincing with pain, rolled onto her back to get a closer look at her killer. "I…" she began, but was unable to finish her sentence as she recognized the Khan's son. Both stared at one another in silent disbelief, the distance between them spanned only by his curved blade.
        "Explain this," he managed, the threat in his voice fading.
        Eiji did, as best as she could. The pain in her back, mingled with her shame, brought on a torrent of tears. When she'd finished, the Khan's son sheathed his saber and sat heavily upon the grass. He shook his head sadly.
        "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I did not know that our union was against your wishes." He seemed both ashamed and rejected. Eiji sat up painfully. She reached a hand out and touched his boot tentatively. He looked up into her eyes.
        "It is not that I do not wish it," she said, finally. "It is that I am not ready for you, any more than you are ready for me. I would gladly join you, but the future Khan should choose his first wife more carefully."
        His eyes narrowed, the scar on his forehead creasing as he gave thought to her words. The moonlight twinkled in his dark eyes. "You may be young, but you speak with a wisdom beyond your years. I fear, Eiji, that my choice of wives is beyond reproach." She nodded to him, unsure of his intent. He recognized the concern in her expression and shook his head slightly. "There is no need to fear me, Eiji. I will not force you to be my wife, but I fear that I will never be able to marry another."
        He stood and offered her his hand, which she accepted, and he brought her to her feet. "If you must flee," he whispered to her, "then I bid you go. Yet remember me, and return someday, for I will put no other before you."

"Oh, that's such shite!" the bruiser shouted incredulously across the table, wiping ale froth from his chin. "He did not say that!"
        Eiji's eyes narrowed, and she shifted her gaze towards the bruiser. The smells of ale and perspiration came off of him in waves. "Why not call me a liar and be done with it, Terrul?" she asked him, a question he answered with a gale of drunken laughter. She closed her eyes. Everyone's a critic, she thought, as she beckoned to the serving boy for another shot of whatever swill she'd been drinking.
        Terrul guzzled the last of his beer and belched. "Hey, believe what ya want to, Eiji. I don't care if yer a harlot or a Hyrkanian princess." He began to laugh again, snorting like a boar.
        Eiji had been in the city of Arenjun for two weeks, and within the borders of Zamora for nearly two years. It had been six years since she'd left her people on the Hyrkanian steppes, setting out on her own in order to make her own place in the world.
        Had things truly happened the way that she'd told Terrul? She couldn't quite remember. One too many blows to the head, coupled with nightly binges in local taverns, had made her memories of the past fuzzy and indistinct. She could hardly remember the names and faces of the people she'd shared her bed with over the past three weeks. Even her memories of Terrul were, mercifully, fading. And the sooner, the better. She couldn't fathom what had attracted her to him in the first place.
        Her story did ring of some truth, though, and she felt long-forgotten shame welling up in the pit of her stomach. Another reason to quaff the potent rotgut offered to her by the returning serving boy. Best to drink and to forget, if she could…

Description
Eiji is a Hyrkanian woman in her early twenties with medium-length straight black hair, dark and brooding eyes, and a tanned complexion. Standing 5'9" tall, she towers over most other Hyrkanian women. She has an athletic physique, graceful hands, and callused fingers. While pretty, she is far from beautiful.
        She wears loose-fitting clothes most of the time, preferring freedom of movement. She will occasionally don a set of well-made leather armor, but does so only when there is cause to expect danger. Her weapons of choice are an incredibly well-made composite shortbow (one of her wedding gifts, which she stole when she ran away from her camp) and a saber of fine Hyrkanian steel.
        Eiji is a woman who is trying to forget her past. She constantly relives the mistakes she has made, endlessly punishing herself for the perceived wrongs that she has perpetrated upon herself and her family. In an effort to leave her past behind her, she often drinks to excess and entertains many romantic partners, both men and women.
        She sometimes dreams of returning to her people to marry the Khan's son (who, in her dreams, has since taken his father's place as Khan), but these dreams are fragmented and indistinct. She awakens from them feeling shamed and bitter. If she has one goal, it is to finally make peace with her past. Until then, she is content to smother her memories with cheap alcohol and earthly pleasures.

Eiji, Female Human Rog4/Ftr1: CR 5; medium humanoid [Hyrkanian]; HD 4d6+1d10+10; HP 41; Init +4 (+4 Dex); Spd 30 ft.; AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 14; BAB +4; Grp +4; Atk +5 melee (mwk saber, 1d8) or +10 (+11) ranged (mwk composite shortbow, 1d6(+1)); Full Atk: +4 melee (mwk saber, 1d8) or +9/+9 (+10/+10) ranged (mwk composite shortbow, 1d6(+1)); Space/Reach 5 ft./5 ft.; SA Sneak attack +1d6; SQ Evasion, racial traits, trap sense +1, uncanny dodge; AL n/a (CG); SV Fort +5, Ref +8, Will +1; Str 10, Dex 18, Con 15, Int 13, Wis 11, Cha 12.
        Skills and Feats: Appraise +3, Bluff +3, Craft (bowmaking) +9, Disable Device +9, Escape Artist +5, Hide +12, Intimidate +6, Listen +2, Move Silently +12, Open Lock +10, Ride +8, Search +6, Sense Motive +2, Sleight of Hand +12, Speak Hyrkanian, Speak Zamoran, Spot +8, Tumble +7; Precise Shot, Point Blank Shot, Rapid Shot, Weapon focus (shortbow).
        Possessions: Masterwork composite shortbow, masterwork saber, masterwork studded leather, masterwork buckler, traveler's outfit, dagger, masterwork artisan's tools (bowmaking), thieves' tools, horn thumb ring, quiver (w/various arrows, see below), backpack, bedroll, flint & steel, grappling hook, silk rope (50'), belt pouch, waterskin, whetstone, 20 pp, 138 gp, 3 sp, 6 cp, 40 gp in gems.