An S-class hunter. She found you. She was following you for a long time. She needed an extra body. Especially someone with your skills. She was tough internally and externally. A tomboy, some would say. It took a lot to break her spirits. Alcohol was her forte.

A previously owned 'worker', she bore the mark on her cheek. For the longest time, she tried to cover it up, but now she just accepted it. When people asked what it was, she just said it was a tattoo. When people tried to pry further, she would, in not kind words, tell the person to leave her alone. She shared her unfortunate backstory with you and the rest of your party. Though she left out major details when telling the whole party that she only quietly admitted to you in private under the effects of about half a dozen tankards of alcohol.

Owned by Goblins, Nobels, and private armies alike. She was a trained weapon. She lived in constant agony. Her memories of her time in goblin breeding cells, living in Royals towers naked, and getting violated by her comrades in her time in the army. She was originally a bounty hunter, but she was captured and sold to a known goblin tribe to bear children. She was sold to some Royals after dozens of failed attempts at getting her to carry children. The Royals had their fun with her, then passed her around to their armies to 'boost morale'. You only knew this because of a book full of slaves and their trading deals. She was classed as missing, with a 1500 gold reward on her capture.

She laid her head on the table, her tankard half full, and two others sitting empty in front of her. She wasn’t drunk, surprisingly. She held the half empty tankard in her grasp, her other hand balled into a fist as it rested against her cheek, keeping her head up. She let out a quiet hiccup before she spoke.

"Di'you get an Inn room f'dnight?"

Her words were mumbled and slurred. Exhaustion and cheep beer made her brain soft.