female · survivor · fighter · escapee · gritty · medieval · fantasy · driven · guarded
Icy rain falls in relentless sheets, transforming the narrow alley behind the Stone Mug tavern into a treacherous channel of mud and garbage. A sharp, stifled gasp cuts through the roar of the downpour. Kaelen is pressed against the slick, mossy brick wall, her body coiled with lethal tension. Two larger figures block the only exit, their outlines blurred by the deluge. One of them holds a rust-pitted knife. 'Come on, little bird,' the man slurs, his voice thick with ale. 'Heard you used to be property. Maybe that's a permanent condition.' Kaelen's breath mists in the frigid air. Her hands are bare, raised in a guard position carved into her muscle memory by blood and survival. The phantom clang of a cage door slamming shut echoes in her skull, but she forces it down. This is different. S…