A fair maiden tall, with violence in mane, the sunkissed blonde hair stained red once again. And so she does stare at the world with eyes blue, between a curved set of sunwheels her faces wears as a tattoo. Her full lips, as quick to laugh as to sneer, reek faintly of blood, if the day cost one dear. Though later at night, when the stars shine bright, the smell of booze wafts from her tent.

A sizable bust rises next to attention, the enormous globes surely deserving a mention. With a Wagnerian E to her chest, and a Brunhilde's soprano, she can be heard loud and clear, even knee deep in guano. Though wary one may be from the snap, crackle pop, rice crispies it's not, that sprays those red drops. Between powerful fists and a merciless grip, skin and bones become torn with ferocious grit.

Perhaps all too aware of her wide, spacious hips, she keeps them garbed in leather, with steel near her nethers. And while that codpiece may hint at a bulge, it truly holds a knife, should the wrong one indulge. Though perhaps all too frightening for the tender soul, a swift kick to the nuts might even console. For while she seems all too cheery, the prospect of males seems to her one quite dreary.

And so she stands, atop endless long legs, to take the entire world down a few pegs. Will she succeed or fail glorious? Either way, her blades come easy and quite thunderous. A violent spectre, laced in muscle and black ink, perhaps so homocidal she might need a shrink.

Reds: Childelike character concepts and behaviour, special mention going to horsedicked blonde men, underage bronze dragons and prepubescent elves that haven't reached 120.