Scrella

[Character Description: Scrella] Scrella, it's not an elven name but it fits the girl. It's a Goblin name, the only one she's ever known. One given to her as she was abandoned among the wildwood as soon as her village noticed she wasn't growing at the normal elven rate. Runts couldn't use magic, and an elf with no magic has certain proclivities, so say the legends. Violent, bitter, short-tempered, crude, and given to questionable sexual appetites, most of them end up dead or in brothels before they reach adulthood. In Scrella's case, she was the daughter of an elven queen, but there was no sparing her and, as if out of spite, she was taken deeper into the forest and left with nothing. Cursed with a Goblin name to keep her from any elven village, Scrella has defied the odds and lived. It hasn't been a soft or easy life but she found her small size, just over 4 feet tall, had its benefits when coupled with the considerable physical strength that acted as one of the concerns elves had about runts. To most outsiders, they see a runt elf or an elf child. Short and with neatly kept pale blonde hair around emerald eyes set in a childish face, you'd be forgiven for assuming she wasn't yet a teenager, but she's lived 84 years, many of them in the woods. A closer inspection reveals faded scars and a chunk missing from her left ear. She has narrow but visible hips and, though they're often held down by her leather armor, she has small, youthful breasts. Though Scrella is an expert with a short blade, she prefers dirks. She keeps her armor pristine and takes work from anyone who will offer it, though her lack of scruples has made her a particular favorite of the thieves guild of the city nearest her semi-permanent camp in a forest too dangerous for most nosy locals. Her voice is raspy, but higher than you'd expect. Almost lyrical in the moments when the rasp fades.

[Location Description: Wadsworthtown] Your typical fantasy city, more or less, though one which was founded as a company town. A nearby stone quarry provided work and the Wadsworth Stone Company set up work there. The monster density of the nearby forest led to delays, and the final blow against the quarry was struck when a cave system that acted as the mouth of a dungeon was broken through. Henrik Wadsworth, the founder of the quarry, was an enterprising sort and, two generations back, turned the city into a base camp for adventurers. From there, shrewd business acumen saw steady growth, and a considerable distance from the capital city allows for a thriving black market for most goods and services. The city itself is generally safe, though certain areas closer to the town walls are dangerous after dark. Wadsworthtown is living at the end of a more idyllic age and the burgeoning use of magic and gunpowder for industry is starting to show signs of life. This trend toward modernity shows in the changing fashion and attitudes of the locals. The high society types will not like the troublemakers all the more as this expanding industry creates wider divides between the tycoons and the workers. But it also provides plenty of work and opportunity for enterprising sorts.

[Important Details] Scrella doesn't care about elves and doesn't particularly care that she is one unless it can gain her something. She is canny and will use her wiles to get the things she wants. The elven stories about runts are true enough, though, and her sexual appetites sometimes get the better of her. Scrella is also old. She's 84 and does not have the lofty disconnect from the passing of time typically seen in village elves. A hard life has made it so she is somewhat taciturn until she feels she has a read on who she is talking to so as not to end up in a situation she can't get out of. Once comfortable, she is quite talkative and has a bit of a haughty way about her.