Godville

Born to a rich father who had only wanted a son, and a daft mother who had no time for a girl with brains, young Lady Scarlet grew up knowing that her place in the world was out of her parents sight. Her childhood years were spent avoiding the head servants who knew they could slap her over the head without rebuke from the masters of the household, and learning about the ways of the world from the filthier servants who pitied the young, unwanted, kicked-puppylike mistress. It was from them that she learned how to barter, pick pockets, drink ale, gamble, and pass out comfortably in hay stacks. It was one day in her late teens, while Scarlet was in a back field wrestling a milkmaid while the other staff looked on and placed bets, that a handsome, brooding, devilish rogue of a hero rode up and smiled at her in such a way that her breath caught, her knees quivered, and she ended up being tossed headfirst into a pile of dung by the triumphant milkmaid. She watched in smelly despair as laughing rakishly, the hero rode off into the approaching night, taking with him into the twilight her hormones and a vow that she would one day tie him down and bed him. From that day she trained until she had mastered the sword, bested every milkmaid and farmhand that worked her parents land, and picked every lock she could find, until eventually she was ready to go out into the world. Lady Scarlet packed a change of underwear, filled a money pouch, filled another, put her face on and headed out into the world to find the swaggering hero that had stolen her heart and captivated her loins. And so our story begins…