A woman walked the sheets of the port town of Essel, a scummy little place forsaken by the leadership of Jaihan. While the port had some value, it wasn't enough to make up for the residents, a bunch of smelly rats sweating over who is going to get a dagger in the back next. It was a home to thieves, mercenaries, pirates and assassins. Anybody who wanted lawless lack of regulation. Buildings were crumbled and burned in areas, not properly repaired by the crime lords who ruled the town even ten years after they were damaged. A perfect place for a group of pirates looking to get supplies without worry of imperials coming along to blast 'em, if they have the fortitude to deal with those of their kind and those lower than them.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Mira called this place home, reluctantly. But it was better than the other option, a nice cell waiting back in her homeland. Mira was an orphan who grew up on the streets of a large Idrean city, adopted by a kind couple who owned a shop at twelve she was ready to relax in life. Until she saw her first slave shipment ... She wasn't meant to see it, through the cracks in the wall she caught it. A delivery of human products, being herded into a ship like they were cattle. Her eyes widened as she saw other living creatures whipped, beaten and killed.<br/><br/><br/><br/>At her age she did not understand, she took her worries to her adoptive parents. For now, they tried to educate her on the ways of Idrea, but as she reached her later teens and was working as a waitress she got a new perspective from them. In an outrage she had thrown a vase into the wall, screaming that they were just other evil people who thought the treatment of men and women as animals was okay. When her adoptive mother took her hands and began to explain. Mira's parents had been rebels, who felt as she did. They had fought for freedom, first by voice and next by sword. But they didn't last long, just brilliant stars of hope snuffed out quickly by the imperial hand. Supposedly they themselves had been thrown into a prison or slavery, to prevent them from dying as heroes, nobody lasted long under horrid conditions such as those of deep prisons are hard labor slave camps anyway.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Feeling more defiant over the next couple years, the girl found herself joining an underground fighting league. At first she was just okay, but the moment she got tired of taking beating she laid out a man twice her size with a few well placed blows. She learned a bit about strange and foreign fighting styles from the variety of people who fought. She was winning money, but it didn't last for long...<br/><br/><br/><br/>...Idrean guards stormed the diner she was in, she was slapped around by the guard captain, and condemned to prison at the least. But before they could take her to trail, she found broken stones in her decaying seaside cell. She got out of it, and took to water. Eventually reaching a boat that sailed for the far off port she now calls home.<br/><br/><br/><br/>-------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/><br/><br/><br/>On the street, the now adult Mira found herself being followed. A mistake often made about Mira was that her size and kind nature meant she was anything but tough. She had already noticed the two men on her tail, and decided it was best she deal with them in private. She turned intentionally down a dark alleyway, and quickly spun behind a crumbled chimney stack. Her attackers, a bald musclar man standing 6'2 and a thin sinister looking man about 5'6. She picked up a metal rod from the ground beside her and furrowed her brow.<br/><br/>The moment they began to pass her she lunged up and swung the bar as hard as possible at the large man's head, beads of sweat and bits of grim flew of his skin as he stumbled back into his partner. He recuperated and grabbed his club, yelling and swinging it at her. "RYAAAH!" he yelled as the club missed the girl who weaved to the side. She then planted a sweet kiss on his cheek from her fist, causing more damage and busting loose a tooth.<br/><br/>The thinner man drew his sword, and tried get to her. But she stayed on the other side of his larger partner, using him as a wall of defense. Keeping her fists close to her chin she ducked under a wild swing from the larger man, before picking up a trash can lid and bashing it against his guard, leaving him distracted so she could kick him hard in the groin. That blow put him on the ground fast as her fell, weak kneed, she slammed her knee into his face. She was going to go in for another but barely leaned back out of a sword swing aimed for her throat.<br/><br/>She saw a small slice of her hair fall, and caught herself from falling with her right hand. Rolling to the side and standing she sprinted her for work, leaving the two thugs to figure their own problems out.<br/><br/>At work the dreary life continued, wearing a black midriff top and knee length skirt. Running boots and her lovely straight hair combed back. She was forced to ignore occasional pinches and slaps, and for excessive customers could only go to her boss. So the fighting gloves stayed off as she served drinks at the Black Ale Tavern. A rough house, but the best food in town. Not like the drunks could taste well enough to be sure.<br/><br/>She then heard news... A ship was spotted incoming. A new ship. Either another fearful band of cutthroats or more wannabes who'd live short.<br/><br/>Sent from my SPH-L710T using Tapatalk