Going through the Vallaki Slums

[wildflame]

A lone figure walks through the slums, she is holding a dark silver sword that almost resembles ice, and with her other hand a big sack is slung on her shoulder. She moves to the closest doorway, and from the big sack she takes out a wolf's fur, rations enough for a week, and some gold coins or a few gems. They are placed on the doorway, and the figure moves on.
She continues her solitary journey for several hours, and every rat, ruffian or monster she sees in the slums is instantly killed by her precise blade.
Lastly, she tacks a note for those very ruffians to beware, for she walks the night and offers the widowed and poor food and warmth.

[wildflame]

In the high noon of the second day, Mariska's was very busy!
The bakery received a large order of her famous baked bread. When they were ready the outlander came by with a big sack and delivered her famous strengthening bread to the widows of the slums, this day the usually stinking streets had a light smell of fresh breads on the wind.
Later that evening, some streets seemed to be visited by this outlander yet again, a knock on the door sounded, and before the inhabitant of the house could open the door, the knocker disappeared, leaving behind a pair of pristine new leather or fur boots.

[wildflame]

In the evening of the third day as it had just begun to snow, a figure wearing her usual golden armor was seen handing out patches of worg and wolf leather, tanned and ready for use. The hardy warrior profusely refused any payment, explaining to them that this trouble was already paid in full.
Isn't it odd, they thought, to call donations such as these troubles. But then again, one does not look a gift horse in the mouth.

[wildflame]

When the day has started to cool and the sky became a dark blue bruise, she came again to the slums.
She made the rounds, on the fourth day already knowing the dark streets and alleyways from her earlier forays, leaving fresh furs of a large variety and size, already cleaned off their meat. Those who have been given the donation on this day would be marked by a drying fur swinging from a window or on arack in their yard. The woman would greet those who might offer their thanks, and open her mouth to smile at them, a yellowed, crooked teeth grin that does not reach her eyes.

[wildflame]

She walked the now familiar streets on the dead of night, a bag hung on one shoulder. Stopping near a door and looking around to check for muggers and theives, she placed some freshly picked fruits on the doorsteps, giving it her customary knock.
When she was done, she looked around the streets again, surveying her work. Apples, lemons, raspberries and grapes sat on every doorstep. She turned away.

[wildflame]

On the sixth day, at high noon, she walked through the slums, and handed out small amounts of gold coins to those she took under her proverbial wing.

[wildflame]

And on the seventh day, the donated gold bags grew a little heavier, she remained and talked to the widows and beggars for a longer time, listening to their troubles and offering advice. The woman remained a good long time before leaving, and made her goodbyes long.