Nickname: Risk
Real Name: Khatari
Age: 24
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs.
Languages: Fallien, Common (with an accent)
Occupation: Mercenary
Appearance: The first thing one notices about Risk is her eyes - hazel, intense, and surrounded by black make-up she applies around them to keep out the sun. Next is her hair, dyed crimson and shaved on her left side and flowing wild at the front of her head. Her dark olive-skinned face is youthful, though marred by a few faint scars she’ll proudly boast about.
Her body is lean muscle and wiry, peppered with a few more reminders of the battles she’s found herself in. Garbed in threadbare traditional Fallien attire - short, baggy pants, sandals laced up the calf, a tunic revealing a stomach which seems to be wrapped perpetually in some form of bandaging, and light linen cloak - Risk often stands out among the mercenary camps she stays in. An exotic attraction to some fellow soldiers, many leaving with broken fingers.
Personality: The sandstorms of Fallien are swift, unpredictable, and terribly savage - and Risk seems to be their daughter. From a young age, she sought out danger and challenge, and revelled in the thought that any moment may be her last. In battle, she’s not known to use discretion, unless she’s named a weapon that.
However, outside of combat she has a brighter side. Drink, dance, men and women - all the playthings that gold can buy. With a fierce sense of justice outside the law, and refusing to ever strike out against the weak; Risk is not well-suited for all the dirty work given to those in her occupation.
History: Boys and girls are drafted into the militia’s of Fallien at the age of twelve, and such was Risk’s fate. Born of a tea house owning mother and a traveling seamen from distant Corone, she spent her youth drilling with other children, and fighting in skirmishes against Mitra’s cultists and assassins. But by eighteen, her commanding officers found her attitude and lack of discipline exceptionally poor - even for militia standards.
The nation of Fallien was too small for the girl, and petty. The hypocrisy of a living god who preached forgiveness with the same voice that sentenced hungry, thieving children to lose a hand left a bitter taste in Risk’s mouth. As a sentence of apostasy loomed ever over her growing head, Risk’s mother convinced the girl to travel overseas with a father whom she barely knew, and soon she found a life of adventure with a man and his crew that made their money in trade, and occasional plunder. Piracy was a thrill for a while, but Risk soon bored of the teedum spent with months at sea, and grew greedier for a larger cut of the reward.
She struck out on her own as soon as she heard of the great civil war in Corone, only to find herself locked up in some internment camp when she and other soldiers of fortune were caught unawares. With some careful planning and vicious action, Risk and a few others managed a daring escape, and she formed a new mercenary company with her new comrades - The Greenspikes. Though she found their company strange to keep, they had proved their mettle, and gained her loyalty and sword.
Skills:
Swordsmanship: Risk is an adept sword user, though her style and technique would make a trained master exasperated. She relies on overwhelming an opponent with speed and strength, hoping to down them as quickly as possible. Whether with scimitar or her small kukri, a gleam of red from her blade brings a smile to her face.
Fist Fighter: Hand-to-hand combat was taught to every child in the militia, in case the worst ever happened. Risk knows how to fight dirty, and is well aware there’s no such thing as a fair fight. Again, lacking real technique, she makes up for it knowing all the weak points on a human body.
Hunter/Scavenger: Those in the militia knew how to live off the desolate Fallien sands. Risk can identify plants and their edibility to a major degree of success, and can hunt, trap, skin, and roast most game if the need arises.
Abilities:
Speed: Risk is 2x as fast as an average person her size. Her surprising quickness honed running the dunes and chasing desert bandits.
Strength: Risk is 1.5x as strong as the average man her size, owing to some degree her fierce training and furious demeanor.
Endurance: Though by no means supernatural, Risk can take a hit that would make normal humans buckle. A savage bunch might phase her for a second, but her recovery to fight through the blows hint at a ferocity battleborn. Small cuts will remain unnoticed, but heavy damage will drop her, and fatal wounds are still fatal.
Equipment/Weapons:
-Two-Handed Iron Scimitar, nearly four feet in length and heftier than you’d expect she could wield.
-Iron Kukri
-Fallien Clothes
-Woven Leather Bracers.
-Length of Rope
-Camping Supplies (sleeping roll, tinder kit)
-Flask, for drinking.
