This is a story of an ordinary career merc, except she is not that ordinary in her employment choices; while being mildly average for a brute enforcer, she quite succeeded in her treasure hunting endeavors. Both pay the coin - and that’s the point. Our merc just needs money. No morals, no family, none of that kingdom stuff that folk have been cheerfully quarreling about. While aristocracy celebrates - rugs have to sweat to at least rest for the day knowing there is food to eat tomorrow. This is where the story of Ema begins.

Ema, or Phase as she goes by professionally, was born in Trestlebridge in an… you know, an average Trestlebridge family - father a caravan merchant, mother a local agrarian, both collectively earning just enough to overcome constant raids, lootings and pyromancy. Although a child of no ill intent, due to material circumstances Ema grew to be morally dissociated from the world having only to view it through the lens of struggle, death, greed and constant mayhem. She was not traumatized, oh no. I guess even worse, the child was definitely born with predisposition. Stars aligned and the next thing you know a 15 year old is on the back of a carriage heading South, to Bree, notifying absolutely no one of her departure.

“Screw them”, said Ema although words cannot describe how massively paraphrased that is. Vulgarity. Ema is not keen on tongues. She doesn't bother with manners, or etiquette, or any notion of chivalry or honor. She prefers just… small talk. Again, massively paraphrased on how small it can be. With that carriage Ema began her immediate career as a volunteer for the local Bree militia as her choices were none to a cows dung. After serving 2 glorious years in this region’s most prestigious town’s militia, Ema has learned enough through combat to start her portfolio and earned just as much to be referred to better employees as her social status grew. From Bree she moved back to Trestlebridge to serve in militia there, briefly saw her family, ignored them for the most part and in another year moved to Herne. There, after serving another year, Ema was convinced by her brother-at-arms to join a mercenary group for excavations near Tharbad. Apparently some nobles, digging through their cheap parchment filled with notarized archaic insecurities, found some proof of rare artifacts still buried, undiscovered, and started to employ specifically citizenry from big towns with prior experience. Fat bigots, ofcourse, but who cares: They paid, and a lot. That is how Ema lost another 2 years of her life and now, sitting with back pains at the age of 21, she is still digging. Digging da money. Making a very good bank. And, as a testament to her success, Phase has become her callname for she was the slimmest among all she worked with, slipping through cracks like water and retrieving what she could have stolen for herself to earn fortune if it was not for the knives meeting her neck each time in precaution. Everyone was cautious of her movements, she was too agile for people to bear even watching. At times she would do cartwheels until someone starts puking.

Now, at the age of 25, Ema has practically dedicated all of her adulthood so far to hard and dirty service mixed in with leasured treasure hunting and private contracts. Never fond of typical girly lifestyle Ema grew into a lieutenant instead, grounding her usefulness among local militarists and securing herself a social standing that of a man. If you ever come across Ema - feel free to know her from local service around Trestlebridge, Herne and Bree. Also, if you'd like to organize an event - feel easy to approach me about it!