Little more traditional proportions this time, just for variety.

Her name is Millie, and she's the most feared, bloodthirsty, ruthless warlord in the Northern lands, when sober. Which is a lot like saying the Pacific Ocean is a real hike when it's not filled with water.

Fearless and eager to prove her mettle, she stood poised to raid a village and leave no survivors, until her pride was challenged by a single warrior, who saw to best her in a drinking contest.

Not one to be second best at ANYTHING, she took the challenge, and proceeded to lose herself drunkenly dancing, rambling and partying the night away with those she had come to murder.

The next day saw a piercing hangover, and a supremely angry jotun, who stood once more ready to plunder the village, only to once more be offered a chance to prove herself, for real this time, by the mug.

After another evening of partying, she awoke and resolved not to fall for this again, and to FINALLY shed some blood, only for that to evaporate the very moment she realized how thirsty she was.

And so the process continued for the next twenty years, the jotun's friendly, drunken personality developing many ironclad, long-lasting friendships with the townsfolk, which would briefly evaporate each time she went a spell without liquor in her belly, only to rekindle as if they'd never left the moment alchohol touched her lips.

As it currently stands, the jotun isn't entirely certain who she is anymore, but for the most part, she's enjoying it!

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