Description
A short, but well muscled woman, Jaharin is the slightly over ripe age of 38. Her olive skin tone, black wavy hair and smooth brown eyes were once considered beautiful, but after scars and baggy eyes and stress wrinkles, it leaves her to have a more commanding presence minus the sexual allure. She looks weathered - her hands are as callous and tough as the boiled leather jerkin she wears. See equipment for garb. Her hair is normally too short to do anything. while not a boy cut, it stops at mid neck and is very messy and pieced. She is known as "Den Mother", because she manages who sets which new recruits are trained by who and makes sure that she pairs the child with someone whose personality compliments their own. You know when she walks in, that she's a powerful woman that commands more than just the presence of the room.
Personality
Having grown up in an impoverished world, Jaharin is obviously tough. When she wants something, she finds any way she can to get it. Outspoken and demanding, she is known to have a short fuse when you patronize her. However, if you do upset her, you won't know it immediately. Because of her years of training with mercenaries, she knows not to outright yell and punish someone in front of them, right after their reparation. Instead, she gives them a chilling warning of the punishment and leave them to find it once it can be arranged. The lesson to learn is that your actions always come back to a reaction. Needless to say, Jaharin is at her best when she's in control. The only time you will ever see her lose it is when she has lost all control of the world around her. However, just because she has a cold exterior doesn't mean she has no compassion for her people. Whenever new recruits enter her realm, she goes out of their way to make sure they are apprenticed by a fully fledged member that is best suited to their skill set and personality. She remembers how hard life was at their stage of life and knows that the life they are going to enter is even harder. Her maternal instincts make her ensure that every child entering the service has the best shot. Very rarely, she'll find a student of exceptional talents across the board and take them on herself.
Equipment
When not traveling incognito for a mission, Jaharin wears linen under shirt, underwear, leather breeches, knee high leather boots(two knives in each), long sleeve cotton jerkin, gloves, a boiled leather jerkin, a bandoleer of poisons, their cures and knives, a belt with duel swords that cross at the small of her back, a torch on her left hip and her shot gun on her right. Often times, she also wears a leather trenchcoat with more weapons. While this sounds very heavy and burdensome, the knives are made from a very lightweight steel alloy that keeps them from being too heavy for the fast action necessary in missions. Most mercenary trenchcoats have an inlay of chain mail and the boiled leather jerkins have a metal plate over the heart and sides, making direct stabs with sabers get caught in the chain mail and glance off the metal plates, thereby avoiding the vital areas.
History
Born to an impoverished family of twelve, she was the only one that escaped being sent out to The Abyss when she was six years old. Having nowhere else to go, she discovered Infraurbis one day when traversing the sewers to find a way into the aristocracy to find her family, for she believed the Abyss wasn't real. Upon finding Infraurbis, she was one of the most promising recruits and quickly rose to the top under the training of the leader of Infraurbis. When, after she was dubbed a full fledged member at the age of 20, said leader was caught and taken to the Abyss, Jaharin was heartbroken. He had become a father to her. He had shown her how to survive in a world where survival was a luxury. She quickly rose in officer and mentor ranks and is one of the most important and prominent members leading Infraurbis. She still believes many people are alive and that the Abyss was just another lie made by those who govern "The City" - and she won't sleep until the walls confining them are torn down.
So begins...
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((hi! where are you guys so I know when would be a good time to jump in?))
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((keep going, I'll find a place to jump in))
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lifts her head from where she rested a short distance from the clearing, an eyebrow raising on her pointed face. She lifts her leather tailcoat and pulls it on, attaching the bandolier of poisons as she tried to guess at the quarrel in the clearing. She slunk softly between the trees around her as though she were part of the shadows until her eyes peeked cautiously at the scene as it unfolded. As she saw the two quarreling, she smiled a little. Whoever was left bloody or dead, she could pull the pockets off of and whoever was left weakened and ready to die, she could fix up and then get a favor from them for saving the other.
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thought to herself, A strange match, this one. I suppose I ought to be ready to be here awhile, since this has no seeming end to it.
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lifts her head from the tree she rests in and gazes at the spectacle, rubbing a sleepy eye. "The hell..." she muttered to herself, buckling her tailcoat over her tighter and donning her bandolier of poisons. "A drunkard and an idiot with the sword," She noted, grumpily yawning and sitting up to grab her sword. "And here I thought I was getting away from that by coming here."
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cries out "OI! Can you take your brawl elsewhere? Y'ain't 'xactly in a brothel, are you?"
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"I don't bloody care," she said as she rolled down the tree limb and landed on her feet, right arm wide to steady herself and the left replacing her leather hat as she looked up.
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"Why is it every Gods-be-damned idiot comes to a sanctuary like this to beat each other up?" She offered, hands in her pockets, feeling the flat of throwing knives as a comfort."
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"Then effing relax!" she called, throwing a hand in the air. "He put back his sword when you went crazy on him." Her pointed brown eyes focused on Chris. "And this forest belongs to nobody. It's sacred land, and we all respect it."
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sighs and shakes her head. "I have more right to be here than you. I respect the Gods."
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((wait, she's even there? xD))
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((you need to make your character more active, hun. It's hard to tell if you've jumped in or not))
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((not every girl. just every girl with a boyfriend, I've noticed >.>))
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"Need a drink, friend?" She offered to the drunk lightly.
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"And no, not a priest. Not of your religion, at least," She corrected, looking down at her weapons. "I've known no priests as well armed as me."
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Seems unphased by the girl as she approaches. "Eh. If she tries to hurt anyone, just stick her with the pointy end of that stick you so skill-lessly wave around."
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"please refrain from wailing, mistress," Jaharin offered. "The last thing we need is all the beasties waking up."
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"Well, that's not cryptic," she snorted, pulling a dried fruit from her bag and nibbling. "Don't do it, friend. Nasty song, they sing. Ain't that right, Siren?"
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"You familiar with the forest, friend?"
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"Pity. You know what this night is, friend?"
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"I'm not going with you, friend, unless I have reason to. Enjoy your shower."
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The woman glanced up at the siren figure and arched a brow. "Alright. Siren, maybe not, but obviously not harmful. You can't scare me, beastie. Don't try. Now what the bloody hell are all these people doing here?" She sunk down some, grumbling, "can't get me a decent night sleep anywhere, it seems."
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"Lovely," Jaharin said nonchalantly, nibbling on a dried mango and looking off elsewhere.
”