Background and drawing of my kenshi character

Stuff that doesn't relate to the game itself
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Lucasromero
Posts: 1
Joined: Thu Jun 25, 2020 6:52 am

Thu Jun 25, 2020 6:58 am

In the ruins of the world there where the ruins of a town, and in those ruins there was a girl with ruins in her heart. Her jet black skin, the skin of a scorchlander stood in contrast with the pure white of her messy hair. Her clothes were rags, the remains of some white cloth trousers, now grey with dust and grime, and a tight cloth tied to cover her chest. She carried a rusted steel pipe like some warriors carry their swords. Small, in rags, and clearly hungry, nothing stood out in her, save a special kind of determination in her eyes, the kind of will that came when someone has nothing to lose. her name was Dirt.
Dirt, the name implied a lot about her place in the world, a low place, barely above the slaves. An orphan girl of miners in the Holy Nation.
But the day Dirt learned that her parents have died at the hands of dust bandits while mining iron outside the city, she came to a fateful decision: she didn't want to live and die like them, toiling endlessly under the sun for a few cats, only to die for being to weak to defend themselves.
Neither their prayers to Okran nor the paladins of the Holy Nation save Dirt parents. And she knew that no bright future awaited her. At best she was going to be married to some brute of a man like her mother had been and live a long life of toil and servitude, at worst she was going to die of hunger in the streets, as the charity of the Okranites didn't extend to women, and less to the orphan girl of some miner.
So the day her parents died, Dirt took all the savings of a lifetime of toil. And head to the border zone, to the Hub, the rebel city, home of the holy nation outlaws. With the dream of becoming strong, of taking whatever she wanted from the world. In this world where humans prey on humans, in this world divided between hunters and prey, she set out to become the greatest hunter. To never feel fear or sorrow again she was willing to become the dreaded, the bringer of woe.
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