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Yrsa grew up in the wilds of the Northlands, one of a few dozen members of a tribe who subscribed to the independent ways; live off the land, defend your homes and kneel to none. Her childhood was spent learning about the natural world and how to survive in it, how to thrive, how to support her family. A little basic herbalism, a lot of basic hunting, and all the chores necessary to keep a small tribe running. Including, when she grew old enough, fighting against other tribes over resources or pride. No tribe is an island however, and hers began to dwindle; young people marrying out to other groups, older people falling to death by wild animal or bad food or conflict with others. And so when she was 20, her tribal leader made the difficult decision to kneel to the Crown, joining the compact to help his remaining people thrive - better trade opportunities, more knowledge of the world, and said world becoming an open oyster to be indulged in. It took a few years, but eventually Yrsa felt the call of the world, and so left her home to travel. She earned her keep as a mercenary, her fighting and hunting skills standing her in good stead for guarding caravans and escorting groups of people through dangerous places. As she improved on those skills and bought herself better equipment, she began to join in with larger skirmishes and battles, earning a name for herself as a skilled foe on the field of battle. Now, it seems there will be war. This could be profitable, or it could be her downfall, but whatever the future holds, she has made her way to the great city of Arx. Dispite her dislike of such places, there will be no better place to find a mercenary company to join, and to reap the glittery or bloody rewards that come with it.

Standing five-eight and fit, Yrsa would seem to be a healthy woman in her mid-twenties. Her overall build is one of long limbs and toned muscle, her stride confident and her demeanour bold. Her skin is pale, hair a mess of blonde and brown, usually with the right side of her scalp shaven and the remainder bound in thin plaits. Her eyes are a keen green, quite expressive, and she smiles often.

Yrsa is not a subtle woman. If she is amused, she laughs. If she's being paid, she'll fight. If she's unwinding? Alcohol, sparring, riding, or a strong lover. She isn't particularly impressed by silks or noble names, but shows enough respect to keep out of that kind of trouble, likewise she tends to avoid discussions of religion. She is loyal to those who pay for her time, and has few - but not no - scruples when it comes to combat. Honourable fighters might shine brighter, but they definitely don't live longer.