Kristina Ellis

[Ciroton]

Name: Kristina Ellis
Stage Name: White Rabbit
Languages: English, some French, and some German.
Age: 32
Race: Human
Sex: Female
Hair: Red
Eyes: Green
Weight: 145lbs
Height: 5’8”

Weapons:
Blessed Bow: Painted sky blue, this longbow has the power to destroy most weak evil creatures in a single shot. Inversely, stronger supernatural beings take more hits to wound or kill. Blessed by a powerful priest in her church, this bow can resist fire and most magical and demonic attacks. However, no bow is useful without arrows to shoot.

The arrows of this bow, also blessed with the power to repel evil, can withstand most attacks thrown at them. Furthermore, despite the quiver holding only one hundred arrows, they reappear in the quiver after leaving her hands for more then thirty seconds, ensuring an endless supply of ammunition. With arrow heads made of steel, painted white, the arrows compliment the bow by following its colour scheme, complete with white feathers at the rear end.

Blessed Dagger: Painted to match her bow and arrows, her dagger, also blessed with the power to repel evil, can kill most weak monsters with a single cut. Depending on the creatures weaknesses, the cuts made from this dagger can sting, burn, freeze, or kill the nerves in the target. Kris only uses this dagger when engaged in close-range combat, but will sometimes use it as an arrow, should the situation warrant it. Much like the bow and arrow, it is capable of resisting most magical attacks.

Strengths: Foremost, Kristina displays an ability to adapt to changes in the environment around her. Coupled with her wit and resourcefulness, this makes her a challenging opponent for many of the supernatural creatures she encounters on a daily basis. Furthermore, she exhibits above-average tolerances to extreme heat, and extreme cold due to her training. Other then that, her greatest strength is her jumping ability. Able to make a standing jump of about fifteen feet, coupled with her swift movements and speed earned her the nickname of “White Rabbit” even before her hunting days.

With her bow in hand, Kris is a fair marksman; capable of head shots from about fifty yards away. However, despite her good sniping abilities she cannot aim very well when she is under enough pressure, or in the middle of combat. Inversely, when she needs to, Kris can be quite inventive with her bow, whether she uses a different item as a projectile, or using it as a crutch. Overall, her skill with a bow is around the intermediate level, if there were a scale.

When all else fails, Kris pulls out her trusty dagger. Unlike her bow, she has less experience with it, so she really doesn’t display a style of any kind. Instead, she opts for swinging it around, hoping for it to cut her opponent. However, there is a method to this madness. By flailing her dagger around like this she can lure her opponent into thinking she’s desperate to stay alive. Using this, she can easily pull them into a trap and win the battle.

Weakness: Being completely human, Kristina has normal tolerances to the strengths of attacks and spells. Namely, her biggest weakness is her legs. Like most humans, if her legs are broken or injured she will have a hard time walking and evading danger. Also, because she is only human, she can not react as fast as most of her opponents. Aside from being human, Kris cannot take pain very well. Even a shallow cut or stab can cause her to wreath in pain for a second before sucking it up as best she can before continuing the fight.

Furthermore, Kris has a rather weak stomach, often throwing up at some rather disgusting sights like disembowelment or rotting corpses. However, she tries her best to not let it get in the way of her objective or cloud her focus on what needs accomplishment. Finally, she is unable to perform any magic or abnormal skills of any kind.

Skills/Magic: Kristina has no abnormal skills or magic to speak of. Remember that she is a pure human with blessed weaponry, nothing more.

Appearance: At first glance, Kris doesn’t look like much of a Demon Hunter. Usually, you can find her face frozen in a smile, save for when she is locked in battle or distraught. She prefers to keep a natural look on her face, not wearing any cosmetic products because of her job and beliefs. Preferring to wear her shoulder-length, red hair down, she keeps a simple hair clip on to prevent the hair from obscuring her vision.

When it comes to clothes, Kristina has a varying taste, although some people would call her picky. When it comes to skirts, she’ll usually wear whatever she can find, so long as it isn’t too short or the material too thin. For shirts, she prefers loose fitting, unrevealing clothes that allow for fluidity of movement, as well as comfort for any occasion. However, every now and then, she’ll roll up her sleeves or skirt a little, and tuck in her shirt to show off a little more.

There are some parts of her appearance that never change, no matter the situation. The first, and foremost of these is a small, golden pendant of the cross she wears around her neck. No matter where she goes, what she does, or even what she wears, Kristina always wears this, even if she’s bathing. She carries a similar dedication to the hair clip she wears, a present from friends she lived with for about ten years. Mush like the pendant, she’ll never take it off, save for bathing, or rainy weather. Furthermore, when not in battle she wears a small, brown magical rucksack that can hold all her stuff in a space no bigger then the average backpack.

When expecting a battle, or actually hunting a creature down, Kris prefers to wear green tights and a green, sleeveless tunic to allow for maximum manoeuvrability and protection for the least amount of weight. Overall, Kristina is a fairly attractive woman who likes to keep herself as inconspicuous as possible to avoid detection.

Personality: It would be very hard to sum up Kristina’s personality in one word or classification, however, that doesn’t mean she’s extremely complex. First of all, she prefers to go by the name “Kris” rather then her first name or her nickname instead. With that in mind, she can be really stubborn at times, often convinced that her way is the right way no matter what.

In battle, Kris prefers to use strategy in place of brute strength or magic. Overall, this method has a high rate of success but has its downsides as well; namely the time it takes for her to develop a plan. In fact, she doesn’t really like to fight at all if she can avoid it; using her wit and charm to try and convince those she doesn’t hunt to back down.

Outside of battle, she is nervous and shy around new people, usually untrusting of them. However, after a few hours of contact she’ll start warming up to them, maybe even calling them a friend if they’re lucky. When it comes to tolerance of other races, Kris openly accepts those from other countries and backgrounds, mainly because she is left-handed, thus considered strange. Just like in battle, however, she will use her wit and charm to get out of trouble.

One she does become friendly with someone, they soon find she is a kind, fun-loving individual who enjoys games and the odd scary story. Furthermore, they will also find she is willing to do what it takes to help them, even if it means giving up her own life to save them. Inversely, she can be rather cruel to those she deems her enemies who are not those she hunts, often showing great disrespect and even malice in rare occasions.

Biography:

Rain lightly fell from the heavens above, teasing those who occupied the land below. Despite the rains nurturing disposition, many of the years crops failed, throwing the country, neigh, the continent, into a widespread famine. Food quickly became scarce, especially in the small, yet crowded town of London. Only two ways to survive presented themselves to the people: working even harder, or thievery.

Alas, none of this really mattered to the small girl who hung out by the marketplace. All that did matter was staving the hunger that plagued her for the past fortnight. Her parents, unable to provide more then a single loaf of bread a week in this famine, had no idea she turned this place into her haunt. Instead, they probably though she played with her friends out in the street on a nice summers day like this. Normally, she would, but the hunger pains proved too much to bear.

Sighing to herself, she quietly began to walk away from the market, her conscience telling her stealing what little food she could wouldn’t be worth it. However, just as she left the area, she heard a shout echo from the market. “Stop! Thief!” Came the shout of an indignant shop owner. Turning around for a brief moment, she continued on her way, unconcerned about the drama that unfolded behind her.

However, when she suddenly felt a rather forceful tug on her shoulder, it suddenly became relevant. “You!” The young shop owner growled. “You stole from me you little brat! I know it!” Needless to say, the little girl froze at this comment. She never stole a thing while she loitered there, now a man suddenly runs to her, grabs her, and accuses her of theft?

“No, I didn’t!” She replied, trying to wrench herself free of the man’s grip.

“Yes, you did! I saw you do it you rotten little gutter snipe!”

“I didn’t do it!”

“Well then,” replied the shop owner plainly. “We’ll see what the constable has to say about this.” Tugging on her arm like a vicious dog, she could not help but give way to his superior strength. Crying and wiggling to get free from her helpless situation, she did the only thing she could do: bite his arm.

Shouting in pain, the man automatically let go of his captive, allowing her the head start in what would become their race. She ran as fast as her little feet could carry her, over stacked boxes and sleeping bums alike, slowly placing distance between her and the enraged shop owner. Tipping over some boxes as she ran, the girl hoped to impede his progress.

Not looking back, she heard then man gasp and stumble a little on the dirt and broken cobblestone ally. Smiling to herself, she grew confident that one way or another, she would get off the hook. However, her luck would run out at her next turn, running straight into a dead end instead of another street like she hoped. Trapped, and faced against an angry shop owner, things did not look good for the little girl.

“Heh,” the man chuckled. “There’s nowhere for you to run, you little thief. You may as well come quietly.” Resigning herself to her fate, the girl slowly walked toward the man and certain doom. Never before had she felt so embarrassed, like nothing else could be worse then falsely accused of stealing. Still, she could not help but feel a little sympathy for the man, since someone actually stole from him.

“Good girl,” he spoke to her as though she were a dog. “You did the right thing, letting the book get thrown at you, or tomatoes, as the case would be.”

“That’s what you think,” she replied snidely. Quickly turning on her heel, she ran towards the wall at full speed to the shock of the man. Thinking she meant to knock herself unconscious, he ran after her in a vain attempt to make her stop. However, just as she reached then end of the all, right in front of the ten-foot high wall, she jumped. His mouth hung in awe as he saw the little girl clear the obstacle, with room to spare. In fact, his jaw dropped and his feet suddenly gave way, causing him to fall to his knees.

Landing on the other side of the wall, as though it were nothing, the girl continued her run until she made it to her neighbourhood. Finally coming to a stop just at the end of her block, she slumped against the wall and collapsed to the ground, exhausted from her marathon. Breathing hard, she pulled out a small loaf of bread from under her dirty and ragged shirt. “Please, Lord. Forgive me,” she spoke quietly to herself before taking a bite of the ill-gotten food.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Fire crackled softly in the fireplace, casting an orange glow on everything in the tiny house. A large iron pot hung from a metal spit inside the fireplace, cooking what little food the family could find. The tiny house, essentially one room closed off by ragged curtains, felt warm and homely to all whom dwelled inside.

A veil of darkness hung in front of the windows, bringing a sense of foreboding. However, to the man sitting in the wooden chair in front of the fire, none of this mattered as he pondered. Resting his head on his hand as he gazed, he wondered if it really was for the best. After all, he needed to do the best he could for his only daughter, right?

He sighed to himself as his wife went to check on the soup cooking in the iron pot. It needed to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner and provide a place with better food and shelter? With his mind finally made up, he decided to tell her after she filled her aching stomach. Resigning himself to fate, he stood up to set the table for dinner.

“I’m home,” came the voice of the girl a few minutes later.

“Oh, good. We were starting to worry about you,” spoke her mother gently, aware of her husband’s decision. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Dinner?” She did not expect they would have dinner tonight, otherwise she really would have gone to play with her friends. Nonetheless, she sat down at the table eagerly, hoping that she would feel full for the first time in a few months. As the carrot soup slid in front of her, she could not help notice something amiss about the whole situation. Usually, their dinners would be fun and lively; however, tonight the mood was sombre and sedated.

Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back oh her mind, the girl dug in to her soup. The food itself tasted wonderful, but she found the meal, the interaction of her entire family, lacking. Only when they all drained their bowls did anyone speak, breaking the long and tense silence between them.

“So,” spoke her father. “How did you like the soup?”

“Delicious,” spoke the girl with the ever-present smile on her face. “You really outdid yourselves, mom and dad.”

“That’s good,” spoke her mother. “Um… listen, Kristina…”

“It’s Kris, mom,” corrected the girl. For as long as she could remember, she inexplicably preferred the name ‘Kris’ to ‘Kristina.’ Even stranger then that, she did not show any tomboyish behaviour, which further puzzled her parents. Nonetheless, they respected her choice and called her by that name, only calling her ‘Kristina’ when the situation took a serious turn.

“Right, I’m sorry,” her mother apologised. “Listen, Kris, times… are pretty hard for us, and you know we want only the best for you, right?”

“Yeah…” Kris replied sheepishly, not aware where the conversation led.

“Kris,” spoke her father. “Have you ever… though about marriage? I mean, a lot of girls your age are already married, so have you given it any thought?”

“N-no… why would I?” the girl replied. “Wait, you mean to a boy? But… boys have cooties.” A sudden look of disappointment crossed her father’s face, as though she failed to live up to some expectation.

“Well, you see,” her father started. “There is this boy who is the son of a very successful farmer. Uh, his father agreed that if we, um, gave him a wife that he would provide for her and nurture her like a daughter.”

Her mother looked at her father disapprovingly, as though he said the wrong thing, or didn’t put it gently enough. However, the girl didn’t notice, too caught up in the shock of the moment. How could they even ask her to consider something like marriage? Sure, girls as young as ten married in these days, but she figured she would be at least sixteen or so before she ever needed to worry about it.

“No,” she responded suddenly. “I… I can’t marry yet. I’m… I’m not ready to!”

“We didn’t say you had to yet,” her mother assured. “You’re just… going to live with him for a few years before you actually marry. You know, to see if you to get along okay.”

“That means… you’re just giving me up? What if we don’t work and I have to live on the streets!? What if… they’re both creeps!” From the moment she heard about this plan, Kris grew to hate it with a passion. If they really wanted her to give up her childhood so suddenly, they would have to put up one hell of a fight.

“We’d never do something like that!” Her father shouted. “It breaks my heart to have to see you go to be hungry every night! I just want what’s best for you!”

“You don’t know what’s best for me!” Kris shouted, tears flowing from her eyes. “I don’t want to marry someone just to make it easier on food! We’re a family, we’re supposed to look out for each other, not give them away and hope for the best when times get a little tough!”

“Don’t you take the tone with me, young lady! We only want what’s best for everyone, including yourself, so stop being selfish!”

“I’m being selfish!? You’re the one who wants me to leave just so you’ll have more food to yourselves!”

“What?” Her mother spoke in shock. “Honey, you’re taking this the wrong way. Having you leave will not help us any more then if you stayed. Please, we’re doing this for your benefit.”

“Well then,” Kristina sobbed. “If it’s in my benefit to leave this place, then I’ll go!” With that, she pushed away from the table, running straight to the curtain that separated her room from the rest of the floor. Ripping it aside, she pulled open the floorboards and quickly scooped up some money she kept stashed there in case of an emergency.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” Her father shouted.

“If you want me to leave, then I’ll leave, but I’ll not marry some boy I haven’t even met! You said yourself it’s in my best interest to leave, so here I go.” She asserted. “Goodbye mom and dad, I know we separated on bad terms, but I will always love you both.” With that, she ran down the stairs of their second floor apartment, and out the front door, never looking back while the tears flowed from her eyes. Eventually, she would regret her decision, but remain committed to it.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Hours turned to days, then days into weeks since she ran from her home in London. Two weeks in all passed before she decided to stay in one place for more then a night. During that time, she slept anywhere and ate whatever she could, often resorting to sleeping in abandoned buildings or eating grain from a farm animal’s trough. Eventually, she made it to a ferry system across the English Channel, even though it proved to be nothing more then a raft with some rope that the operators pulled on to cross to the other side.

Once on the French side of the channel, she decided to follow the course of the River Seine, which flowed near where she disembarked. She heard from traders in London that one could reach Paris by following it long enough, so she decided that would be her destination. This leg of her trek proved more forgiving then her last, being able to feed off the rich bounty the river provided. Even shelter seemed easier to find in France.

Soaking up the local language and culture as she went, Kris began to understand some of what people would say to her. However, complex sentences and their grammar structure still eluded her. Occasionally, she would stumble across someone who knew English, so she would ask them to teach her some basic sentences so she could get by in this new, and strange country.

Eventually, Kristina made it to Paris just after two weeks since she ran away from home. Unlike London, the city of lights felt more homely and festive as she walked its streets, trying to get accustomed to the French way of life. Little did she know that her life would change in the magical atmosphere that the streets seemed to exhume.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

The dark veil of night hung over the walled city as the little girl wandered, lost and confused in this foreign place. What little remained of her shoddy shoes disintegrated hours ago, leaving her to wander the cold streets barefoot. No one she came across felt pity for her, and if they did, she could not understand their kind offers of food and shelter.

Perhaps running away wasn’t the best plan, Kristina thought to herself. Her clothes clung to her body, dirty and torn from the journey from her home in London. Lack of foresight prevented her from bringing a change of clothes, or even underwear. Cold, dirty and weary, the little girl could go no further. Shuffling one last step down an ally, she collapsed into a heap. Darkness slowly forming around her eyes, the last thing she would remember before slipping into unconsciousness would be the wooden back door of a large pub.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Warmth swept over her in the depths of her sleep, erasing all the bad things and leaving only joy and optimism. Kris had no idea why she felt this way; maybe it had something to do with the blanket on top of her? Wait, I collapsed in an ally, she reasoned. Opening her eye, she saw no sky or ceiling, but canvas painted in all the colours of the rainbow. Sitting up in awe, she saw whoever moved her here gave her clean clothes and left food and water beside her.

“I must be dreaming,” Kristina said, rubbing her eyes in disbelief.

“Ah, je vois que tu es en place,” came a sudden, male voice from behind her. Twisting her head suddenly, she got her first look of a man she would never forget. At first, she though his appearance bizarre and outlandish. He wore a bright, red coat with a blue tunic underneath. The rather nice shoes on his feet felt out of place next to the brightly striped pants he wore. Kris’ jaw dropped before she quickly snapped it shut, not wanting to offend.

“Êtes-vous bien, petite fille?” He asked. To this, all she could do was keep her silence, hoping that he would clue in that she didn’t understand. He seemed to understand, because he started speaking in a second language, saying “Sind Sie in Ordnung, kleines Mädchen?”

“Um…” Kris started. “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak your languages.”

“Ah-ha!” The man shouted suddenly. “English! That was going to be my third guess though. Um… Are you okay, little girl?” At first glance, this guy proved quite jovial and flamboyant, given his choice of fashion of course. Immediately, Kristina felt she could trust this man, he just had that feeling about him.

“Ah… I guess. I’m a little hungry and tired, but other then that, I’m okay,” Kris responded.

“Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!” The man shouted, throwing his hands up. “Cornilious Trout, at your service, my fair lady. Or, Ringmaster, if you wish to call me by my stage name.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Trout,” she started, not willing to anger him for secretly laughing at his given name. “My name is Kristina Ellis, but I prefer Kris. If I knew what a stage name was, I might have one of my own.”

“Ah, but a stage name is only what I call myself when I perform,” Trout replied. “You see, I run this troupe of performers. We go to all sorts of places, performing in front of kings and commoners alike! It’s really an exhilarating experience, knowing you bring joy to others!” He smiled fondly as he spoke, as though there were nothing wrong with the world.

“Really? It sounds like fun,” Kristina replied.

“Oh, but it is, Miss Kris! Now then, you should eat and rest up. We can’t really take you home if you look terrible, now can we?” He didn’t know, then again how could he? At the mention of this, Kristina looked down sadly. “What’s the matter, young Miss?” Trout asked, concerned.

“It’s just that… I don’t have a home to return to.”

“You don’t?” Trout said, astonished. “Why not, if you don’t mind my prodding?”

“Well,” Kris started. “It’s just that I had an argument with my parents, some things got said that I wish I could take back, and I wound up here. Um… if you don’t mind me asking, I was wondering if I could… stay with you guys. Only for a while though.”

“I’m afraid,” Trout started. “I need to take it up with the others. One second please.” With that, he turned on his heel and left the rather large tent. Unsure if she should follow or not, she stood up, rooted on the spot. Time seemed to decelerate for her as she waited their decision. Eventually, Trout returned with three others in tow.

“Alright then,” Trout spoke. “We’ve agreed that so long as you contribute to the show, you may travel with us and live with us. However, before you tell us how you can contribute, allow me to introduce you to the rest of the troupe. First off, this is our fortune-teller: Miss Mystique, or Samantha, as we call her. Next, we have our juggler: Steady Hands, or George. Finally, we have our strong man: The Mighty Earl, or… Earl.”

Samantha, the only female in the group, wore purple robes and a sash that complimented her lankly and tall figure as well as slightly hiding her kind and gentle face. Earl, on the other hand, looked like a rather large bull with muscles as large as most rocks despite his short stature. George looked like your average man, albeit a little cleaner then most since he did not work in the fields all day. Overall, they looked like a nice and trustworthy group.

“Now that you’ve met everyone,” Trout said. “It’s time we hear how you can contribute to our group. Do you have any special talents, or skills you can showcase?”

“Umm…” Kristina started. This long silence would be one of the most awkward she would ever experience. She had no clue how she could add to the group, being completely normal save for her jumping prowess. That’s it! She thought. “I can jump pretty good! Well, more then pretty good.”

“Brilliant!” Trout shouted. “Please, give us a demonstration.”

“Um… okay,” she replied. Stepping out of the tent, to reveal they made camp in the middle of the town square, she assessed the landscape and began. However, she had no idea how bad her fatigue would effect her performance. Running towards the building right in front of her, she summoned all her strength and jumped to the top of the four story high building.

Suddenly, a loud outburst of applause came from behind her, as not only the troupe clapped her on, but the entire square. Exhilaration filled every facet of her being, as she would later think of this moment as her first, albeit short, performance. Jumping down the building back to the cobblestone streets, she collapsed to her knees, exhausted from all her hardships and what had to be her farthest jump to date.

“Brilliant, Kris! Absolutely brilliant! What do you guys think?” Trout said to the troupe. They all gave her words of encouragement and congratulations; they had found her act, so they openly welcomed her into their travelling troupe.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Years passed as the girl travelled, performing from Italy to Germany, and from Spain to Romania. Winters proved the hardest to endure, especially since what would later become known as the Great Famine continued longer then anyone expected. Kristina when through all the pangs of adolescence, coming to see Samantha, or Sam as she called her, as a motherly figure she could tell anything. She grew into a young woman, her act becoming more refined with each passing show.

Eventually, the troupe received an invitation to perform for none other then the King of France. Of course, after all her travelling, Kris became adapt at speaking both French and German, in addition to learning how to read and write in English, with Trout as her teacher. Now twenty years old, Kris became nervous for the first time since leaving her home in England.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Butterflies filled her stomach for the first time in years, having not felt pressure like this in her entire life. As she sat behind the stage, contemplating how to go about her act, she could not help but think of how far she’d come since the tender age of ten. Time flowed slowly as the anxiety mounted up before her, teasing her sense into a false sense of security.

“Hey, Rabbit, you’re up,” spoke Trout suddenly in his eternally cherry tone. ‘White Rabbit’ became Kris’ stage name due her agility and jumping prowess, not to mention her costume was pure white in colour.

Kristina took a deep breath, sucking up her anxiety so she could channel it into her performance. She climbed up to the top of the lower curtain, divided in two to provide an unusual entrance for her, and stood as she awaited the signal. The curtain rose slowly, exposing only the back curtain with only a sight telling them to look up.

Given her cue, Kris bounded forward, through the upper curtain and over to the immense eves in front of her. The audience gasped as she literally flew through the air until her foot connected with the eves, twisting her body to change direction. Pushing off from there, she made small movements to put her body in a controlled spin as it righted itself. Touching down on the stone floor in front of the stage, she gave a small bow.

Applauding her, the audience fell silent as she stood up once again, then bounded toward the two pillars that flanked the royal spectators. She kicked off from the first pillar into the second, jumping between them until she came to the rafters once more. Gripping onto a beam, she swung her body back and forth to gain momentum, then hurled herself forward, spinning backwards towards the beam she started on.

With all the grace and agility of a cat, she landed on the small beam perfectly, causing the audience to erupt in applause again. I’m only getting warmed up, she thought. Overall, the performance earned thunderous applause from all present, none of them ever seeing some of the stunts she performed before. When the curtains closed for the final time, she found herself in the midst of a group hug.

“Excellent performance, kid,” Earl complimented.

“Truly amazing,” George contributed.

“Even I couldn’t tell your performance would be that good,” Sam spoke.

“That was bloody Brilliant!” Trout shouted in joy. “I just spoke with the king. He says we did an amazing job, especially you, Kris. In fact, he says he wants to speak with you personally after dinner tonight!”

“Aw, I didn’t really do anything that great,” Kristina replied, blushing a little from the swarm of compliments. “Wait… the king said he wanted to see me!? Why?” Shock filled her body; the King of France wanted to speak with her personally, a commoner not even from his country. Nonetheless, she couldn’t wait for this meeting, even if she had no idea what he wanted to talk to her about.

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Standing outside the large doors of the King’s chambers, Kristina wore the best clothes she could, not wishing to offend him. Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and entered the room. To say the least, it would be one of the most opulent rooms she would ever enter. White marble, complimented by purple drapes and carpeting gave the room warmth next to the gold of the bed frame and wardrobe. Heck, she’d never seen a real bed before instead of sacks filled with hay.

To the side of the bed stood the king, in all his glory beckoning to Kristina to come closer. She obliged his request, bowing to him when she came close, as told by Trout. “You are wondering why I called you, no?” Spoke the King, in French of course.

“Yes, your majesty, I do wonder why you called me,” she replied in his tongue.

“Well, we saw your performance,” he said, gesturing to the priest behind him. “…And we think you might have what it takes to join an elite group of people who hunt down and destroy supernatural creatures, like Werewolves, and Vampires, and other things like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kris spoke. “I thought you said stuff like Werewolves actually exist.”

“I’m afraid they do,” the priest said. “In fact, they are more predominate then you might expect. The thing is, a lot of them live amongst humans, endangering good, innocent people.”

“Really? So, you want me to join this group of people that hunt down supernatural creatures? I’m not sure I can, after all, I’ve never handled a weapon before.”

“They would train you,” spoke the King. “They would not let you go out on a hunt unless you proved you were prepared.”

“I don’t know…” Kristina pondered.

“Please,” replied the priest. “Give it some thought, at least.”

“Alright,” she replied. “I’ll give it some thought. I’ll talk to you again before we leave.”

*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*/\/\/\*

Eventually, she agreed to undergo training to become a Demon Hunter. She rationalised that it would be a good way to serve mankind instead of entertaining them. After an emotional set of goodbyes to her troupe, to which she promised she would perform with should she ever run into them again, she left for Italy to train for the task ahead.

The instructors, although kind and heeding her request for teaching in English, did not let anything go unpunished. Harsh discipline accompanied her long training sessions, toughening her. For ten years, despite being ready to go on her first mission, the bosses kept her back because of her sex. However, after much persuasion, they granted her permission to go out into the world, giving her a bow and dagger since she trained using those two weapons.

For her first assignment, she had to track down and kill a monster kidnapping young women in eastern Germany. Using herself as bait for the creature, which turned out to be a King Giglameth Spider, she found the captive women. Freeing herself from the creature’s grasp, she engaged it in combat, eventually killing it by figuring out its webbing, in addition to its body, was extremely flammable. All in all, out of the twelve women captured, eleven survived, Kris having arrived too late to save one of them.

After proving her prowess to her superiors, she received permission to engage in hunts as she saw fit, no longer being bound by assignments and deadlines. Indeed, she found this freedom most relaxing, now she could travel, make money, and help mankind. Now thirty years old, some people give her odd looks, but otherwise, she enjoys her lifestyle and wouldn’t have it any other way.

~Battles and Roleplays~
White Eyes - In Progress
Across the Open Blue - In Progress

[Zorolo]

Looks good, C. Good job. Approved.