Does it pay well?
Social Rank: 8
Concept: Prodigal Mercenary
Marital Status: single
Height: average height
Hair Color: dirty blonde
Eye Color: green
Description: Standing five-eight and fit, Yrsa would seem to be a healthy woman in her mid-twenties. Her overall build is one of long limbs and toned muscle, her stride confident and her demeanour bold. Her skin is pale, hair a mess of blonde and brown, usually with the right side of her scalp shaven and the remainder bound in thin plaits. Her eyes are a keen green, quite expressive, and she smiles often.
Personality: Yrsa is not a subtle woman. If she is amused, she laughs. If she's being paid, she'll fight. If she's unwinding? Alcohol, sparring, riding, or a strong lover. She isn't particularly impressed by silks or noble names, but shows enough respect to keep out of that kind of trouble, likewise she tends to avoid discussions of religion. She is loyal to those who pay for her time, and has few - but not no - scruples when it comes to combat. Honourable fighters might shine brighter, but they definitely don't live longer.
Background: Yrsa grew up in the wilds of the Northlands, one of a few dozen members of a tribe who subscribed to the independent ways; live off the land, defend your homes and kneel to none. Her childhood was spent learning about the natural world and how to survive in it, how to thrive, how to support her family. A little basic herbalism, a lot of basic hunting, and all the chores necessary to keep a small tribe running. Including, when she grew old enough, fighting against other tribes over resources or pride.
No tribe is an island however, and hers began to dwindle; young people marrying out to other groups, older people falling to death by wild animal or bad food or conflict with others. And so when she was 20, her tribal leader made the difficult decision to kneel to the Crown, joining the compact to help his remaining people thrive - better trade opportunities, more knowledge of the world, and said world becoming an open oyster to be indulged in.
It took a few years, but eventually Yrsa felt the call of the world, and so left her home to travel. She earned her keep as a mercenary, her fighting and hunting skills standing her in good stead for guarding caravans and escorting groups of people through dangerous places. As she improved on those skills and bought herself better equipment, she began to join in with larger skirmishes and battles, earning a name for herself as a skilled foe on the field of battle.
Now, it seems there will be war. This could be profitable, or it could be her downfall, but whatever the future holds, she has made her way to the great city of Arx. Dispite her dislike of such places, there will be no better place to find a mercenary company to join, and to reap the glittery or bloody rewards that come with it.
|Rival and ally, and a damn good hunter. Good to see her in Arx.
|Confident, which can be both a blessing and its opposite. I rather wonder what would have happened had I told her 'no' to her request of me. She was serious about not prattling about certain subjects, however, which was its own blessing in and of itself.
|Well spoken. knows the city and the so called rules within it. Claims to call the South home now. The south should pay attention to who they have opened their arms to. I expect great things to be claimed by her.
|A beautiful woman of the north, not afraid in the least of challenges physical or spiritual. I hope to know her more. Her candidness and bravery is refreshing in a place like this.
|Active woman, and a strong drinker. Knows how to take a hit and roll with it. Not a sailor, by my guess, but, neither am I.
|A Crimson Blade and northlander. She had valuable information for surviving the winter, even if she seemed to doubt how much winter Arx actually would see. I would like to learn more of her sometime. She seemed interesting, and I'd imagine she has many stories to tell worth hearing.
|Quiet. The kind of quiet that worthwhile warriors adapt. Would've hired her myself, back then.
|A crimson Blade, and from the looks of it, a good one. No doubt we'll see more of them, and her, in the years to come.
|A woman of the North comes South, all the South should tremble before her. If it doesn't now, it will one day.
|A prodigal mercenary, from the north by her accent. I wonder if her axe is worth the coin. By her performance in a spar, it seems plausible.
|She may not be the best of the best, but she is not a quitter. Determination goes a long way toward improvement. She seems like my kind of people.
|When are we not sizing up men indeed. She looks like a woman I would not want to meet in a dark alley. Or when she's pissed. But I would like to see her again for drinks. That would be fun.
|A northerner that can be reasoned with. Willing to accept advice and try giving the world a shot - which is difficult for northerners as the south mocks the north, and usually needs punching in the face.
|A single word uttered to me: Up. I was trying to be nice and catch her name. She holds the rear of the scouting party fairly well, that being said.
|A fearsome opponent in the ring! I wouldn't want to meet her on the field of battle as an enemy! Thankfully that won't happen, I think. I hope? I also hope to not be shot with an arrow! Anyway, I'm rambling. Very pleasant encounter!
|Don't tell anyone, but my favorite Blade to date. I think I hand picked her well.
|A tough northerner with good advice about the cold. Now I'm afraid of winter, though.
|She isn't terrible company, and she buys rounds at the Hollow without even being told or forced too.
|Spry, young. Hope that they live a long life, without this curse.