Hello, Weasyl! I've had an account here for a short time, but this is my first post here. I'm kind of glad to be making my debut, so to speak, with a brand new piece of art, featuring a mercenary named Zareth. Don't be afraid of her, as she's quite friendly--right up until you make her mad. Below you'll find a short story/blurb featuring her, which I've used on various websites (including my Tumblr, http://neonnoble.tumblr.com ) :

A large mercenary accompanies you through the wintry hills past the city of Casanta. You knew the journey to the next town over would be rough, and cold, and did not fathom the idea of being preyed upon by nasty thieves-- or worse, vicious creatures. The path you walk is, regrettably, a little close to the untamed wilds, but you knew that the only other path would force you over large hills in the cold, and you could not hire a carriage to cross the fresh, icy roads.

That's why you have hired the assistance of this massive woman striding easily next to you. You keep silent as she goes on and on, telling stories in her thick accent about things you should grasp but aren't quite understanding, unfettered by the cold or the freshly-fallen snow from scarce hours before. She seems fairly well-prepared for the cold and the snow, and you think you recall catching a phrase or two about her upbringing in the North as you look her over, seeing her armed with a sword and shield. Other than her leather armor layered over a chain mail shirt, the gargantuan cougar seems to be carrying nothing else but a bright blue scarf, perhaps prepared to pounce at the first sign of trouble.

You try to focus on getting your delivery to the town, and shift your heavy bag from one shoulder to the other, taking care to maintain the warm lantern in your hands. As it happens, your foot slips in the snow, and you prepare to brace against the frosty slope. But you never hit it-- something catches you.

"Take much care in not falling in snow, yes?" Zareth says to you, her low, smooth voice soothing your rapid heartbeat. "If you become sick, how will town last in winter?"

She pulls you effortlessly back into balance, and lifts the sack off of your shoulder, slinging it over her own as if it was full of feathers. "Very brave you are, taking journey like this, when none dare battle the snow. But let us be more careful, yes? I do not want to be carrying you!" Her lips part into a big, toothy grin, and she lets out a warm, echoing laugh.

You cannot help but smile in return, and pull your cloak tight around your shoulders as you reach to relight your lantern. You have medicine to deliver, after all.