They call her "Buckshot" Xip Roberts, a thing of glitter and grit no taller than knee-high to a grasshopper, but with a reputation that stretches farther than most human kings. Born in the reed-glades of the Feywild where the moon hangs low and the water remembers every footstep, Xip learned to read the land the way other folk read letters. She trapped fur with a patience that made seasons feel hurried, snared weasels and otters and the rare silver-marten for a living, and molded tiny buckshot from starmetal for her pistol when iron was too coarse for a fairy's aim. Trapping taught her tradecraft: how heat rises, where wind will whisper a lie, which roots betray footsteps. When humans came with coin and cruelty, bringing slaves and scorch-lines, Xip took to hunting men as others hunt wolves relentless, thorough, and impossibly small in the spaces they couldn't defend.

She became a bounty hunter because the world paid in bodies and she had the appetite of a ledger: debts settled in names, not coin. Rumor gilded her in exaggeration some said she had ended more men than smallpox but no one said she was soft. She stalks caravans by moonlight, plants pinprick traps where armored boots will stumble, shoots buckshot that sings like hail through a narrow throat of chain. There is a code beneath her cruelty: she takes no pleasure in slaughter, only in the precision of a job finished and a promise kept. Villagers whisper of a Pixie who hums as she cleans her blades, who keeps a ledger of the living and the taken, and who will not stop until the last name on her list is crossed out.

Reds: Scat, Rape, anything that breaks server rules OOC Drama of any kind. Meta-gaming, Power Trips.

Greens: Roleplay, hunting, exploring. Chaos is a plus *grins*.

Tell Friendly, rp for more :p