Mischief - Part 1

A huge, hairy knuckle comes swinging right towards the face of our lead character. It belongs to a man of no importance. What I can tell you though is that he is big and brutish in nature with a considerable amount of scars on his face.

Our lead ducks swiftly out of the way, takes out a silver dagger of appropriate size and cuts the man at his throat. All within one single minute. And yes, he is now dead.

A stray hair is blown away from the face and the dagger is casually placed back to its home,"That's what you get for touching something that isn't yours."

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People often mistook Malora, Mal for short, to be younger than her actual age. This suited her fine. The less people knew about her the better. 

She had a delicate and small face but her eyes, which were a dark concrete brown, somehow always glowed with a fierceness that could rival that of fabled dragons. Her hair was a cross between mossy green and sapphire blue, which came from her father. She hated this as a child as she was always teased as being a tree, you see.

In stature, she was petite and feminine but underneath that, she had the strength and agility of a great warrior. As well as the skill to go with it, of course. 

Besides these few details, very little had ever been discovered about her. And she intended to keep it that way. 

                                                               -----

It was a Thursday when Mal had been wandering in the Alexion forest, inspecting her usual traps. She knew that it was Thursday because the local bakery had their special berry pies for sale, which only happened on yes, Thursday.

So, there she was, our heroine, looking over the traps that she had laid out through the forest. She could hunt, without a doubt, but she liked to save her energy for fighting when she needed it. For some reason, she needed it quite frequently lately. 

The royal guards seemed to be slacking in their work and there were a lot more bad people around. Not that she wasn't used to it. Still, she wondered why...

It was during this pondering that she spied something caught in her big net. She raises an eyebrow at the victim, who is trying to cut at the net and free himself with his massive sword.

Amused by his lack of attention, she asks, "You need a hand there?"

He looks at her this time and she immediately recognizes him merely by his tousled chestnut hair and his grey eyes. 

He flashes her a charming smile and says, "Any chance you could get me down from here?"