Scarlett Death

The Scarlet Death, a name still running long after the fists went quiet

In the back rooms where the betting happens, people still say her name under their breath, years after her last fight. The Scarlet Death fought the shortest bouts on the circuit: a dwarf built like a block of stone, who took every blow without stepping back and left the ring red to the elbows, never with her own blood. One night, she didn't show. Since then, some swear they've passed her in the street, a battered face no one dares to stop. They're not wrong: she is Menathra Ulith, who now waits tables at Babe Cairn's fighting Circle. Fighting always came easy to her, never as a pleasure. Only one thing could bring the Scarlet Death back, and she's serving the next table over.

Describe her

No taller than a barrel, and about as wide. She steps into the ring without warming up or saluting. She doesn't raise her guard, she walks forward. The first blow she takes on the forehead without blinking, then answers to the body, where it doesn't show. Her face has taken too much to read anything in it, even pain. When the other one falls, she steps back and waits for them to be carried out.

Play her

Never let her speak before a fight. No taunts, no hard stares. She waits. Let the opponent wear themselves out on her, describe every blow she takes as though it never landed, then have her strike just once, to the liver or the ribs, and let that be the end of it. One known weakness: a handsome young man across the ring makes her blush, and she hits a little less hard. A little. Above all, hold on to this: she doesn't fight for glory, she does a job, and that is exactly what makes her frightening. If someone recognizes her in the street, she denies it once, politely, and is never seen in that neighborhood again.

What she says (rarely)

"Get up if you want. I'm in no hurry."
"You've got the wrong dwarf. But it's kind of you to remember."
(wiping the red from her forearms) "Not mine. It's never mine."