“I’m a pro. Normally, my services don’t come cheap- but I’ll cut you some slack on one exception. If you see that cunning bastard, hand him over to me. The night I sleep without a nightmare will be the night I get to hang his head over my bed.”
Scarlet lived an average life as a peasant for 11 years with her parents in the Northern part of Haense. One day, she returned to her home after picking some flowers with an injured wolf cub. Struck with pity for the poor creature, she secretly nursed it back to life and cared for it the span of 4 years. Naming her animal friend “Hart” due to the wolf’s desire to live, she grew attached to him quickly.
Eventually though, word got out of a girl tending for a wolf in the village, and, fearful for the safety of the village children and farmers’ livestock, a search party was swiftly rallied and deployed. Perhaps by a strike of misfortune, or maybe fate, Scarlet had been picking flowers during that time, and was unaware of what went down at her house. Once she returned, she was greeted with the sight of a bloodbath; Hart, feeling threatened by the villagers, had returned to his instincts and slaughtered the search party. As the red hooded girl attempted to call out her friend’s name, all he knew was the shouting and blazing torches that lingered in his mind. In his primal rage, he shredded his savior’s face, but before being able to kill her, turned and fled. The torches of the villagers had lit the forest on fire.
Once more, by some miracle, Scarlet was saved from being consumed by the fire. Her parents, who returned from the fields, carried her out of the embers. However, her skin had melted horribly and her face was viciously mutilated, cauterized by the fire and ridden of one eye, scarring her body forever. Life could never return to normal after that night. After seeing what their child now looked like, Scarlet’s parents soon abandoned her while she was on a walk, even though they were devout worshipers of Canon and held the highest of admiration for Horen.
Thinking that her parent’s disappearance was a product of the wolf’s spite, she developed an intense desire for revenge, training her weak, broken body and becoming a wandering mercenary at the age of 16, training and working for contracts, without any place to stay. Being unusually uncomfortable with parts of her face and body being exposed, or looking at a mirror, she sports numerous symptoms of paranoia observable in her behavior. She has a strong desire to resolve emergency situations when they break out, especially if it means she gets to confront a beast. She became known as a mercenary with a unique combat style deeply rooted in adrenaline-induced violence, who conceals her compassion and is slow to trust others.
"In the end, there's no victory to be won. All I think about is how I'll kill that furry bastard in a way more gruesome and painful manner than what he did to me. Thus, there are no toasts to raise. There are no deliciously baked cakes to eat, or wine to drink.
I got used to grinding the ax instead of picking flowers when I was 16.”
“As much as I think our definitions of “lovely” differ, it’s no lie that this place seems full of rich snobs and potential clients. Now leave me alone unless you’re looking for work.” Red sneers and shrugs off the gentleman, instead focusing her attention on the various axes and blades on display at the bazaar.
Mulling over the man’s words, she turns back to him and adds dryly: “I guess you could say, I’m on a quest to slay an old friend. But for that, I’m gonna need a bigger blade.”
With that, the mercenary leaves him alone.
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