Pink Alice
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Game Login: Project Alice
Character Name: Emmaline 'Alice' PerrywineTime was when the pink haired halfling woman smiled more often and laughed more easily. Time was when her face was pretty too, and the two kinda went together. Her parents would blame themselves for years. She never did though. Not one for throwing blame down a chain, was she. Way she figured it the person to blame for her scars was the man with the knife.
It started when she was young. Always a tom-boy she was always the one starting fights. Way she figured it she threw the punch she started the fight. Name calling and making fun of her hair was just words, was her turned it into a brawl. Oh, about her hair colour, never made much sense to her. Her mothers hair was golden blonde and her fathers ginger red. Coming out with pink hair? Well, it's a world of magic, maybe genetics took a day off. She doesn't know or care much.
So she grew up fighting. Joined the militia of her little dale-town. Mixed race, so you can guess the kind of ribbing she got as a hin girl. So, more fights. Backing down was just never much in her, and she never saw much need to practice. Alice started as a joke of course. The name. Emmaline Perrywine was a hell of a mouthful. One day her sergeant started calling her Alice. He never explained why, she never asked. She just broke his jaw. Just her way of saying don't. The others mostly called her Pink. But since it bugged her they took up with Alice as well, and comes a point where you gotta quit hitting people or there'll be too damn many hitting back. So she shrugged and accepted it.
Oh, the scars. Yeah. Well that happened when the town got hit by bandits. They came, they saw, they conquered. Well, not really. They came, saw, killed and looted. Only four people died though, and the bandits moved on fast. Reason they had it so easy is the militia weren't prepared. Scouts had said nothing was close. Scouts had said the bandits were heading away. Scouts were wrong.
Pink was caught unawares at her parents home. Small farmhouse, little outside the town. Three bandits. Wanted to loot the farmhouse. backing down was never much in her, so she didn't. She bellowed at them, drew steel and fought like a wild-cat. She lost, but she killed one, wounded a second. They took revenge their own way, a dark way, one we don't need to detail much beyond thr truth of her scars.
She retreated into herself. Her bounce deflated. She took up worship of Urogalan. Took responsibility for the dead of her town. Took pleasure in the earth she buried them in. Some would call it morbid, probably rightly. Some would say it was because she wanted to die too. Maybe so, but backing down wasn't in her nature, even from this.
A couple years later there was a fever. Spread faster than a cheap whores legs and killed half it hit. It took both her parents, and even laid her up for a week or so before she beat it. She buried her folks, buried half the town, though she only blessed the halflings in her own quiet way, the other folk she buried and respected but Urogalan wasn't their god, so she left off the words.
She stayed a while. Even with nothing to keep her she stayed, right up until leaving didn't feel like backing down. Right up until she left for a reason. She'd heard of a bunch of undead, maybe an amateur necromancer. So she left, travelled, found the fella and his undead minions, hardly an army, only four of them truth told. But she found them, ended them. Not much for killing without need she considered leaving the mage alive, just with mangled hands. But she found a couple of dead hin he'd dug up to use, so she killed him. There's a difference between trying not to kill people you don't need to, and being soft. Soft had been beaten out of her by those bandits, except where her voice was concerned.
She heard of all sorts of undead troubles further north. And a hin community in a valley near a town called jiyyd. So she walked some more. Found the place.
And now? Guess we see…
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