Johanna Hannigen-Du'chain
There was a lot that could be said about an individual who'd lived through some of the things which Johanna had. There was also a lot that could be said about her mechanisms of coping, or lack thereof. She'd arrived in Barovia as a child, though if she were asked an exact age she'd claim to be uncertain. Much of her early life was spent on the streets of Vallaki and dwelling within the tunnels below the city. Although hers was an existence many likely pitied it had been a comfortable routine that she'd eased into and became used to from day to day. The stealing, fighting, and visits to jail were things she'd grown accustom to, though this all changed when she married.
For a time her life could've potentially been considered as being stable, but this was not meant to last. Before long her and Leon were fighting. Their altercations often became violent, and took a toll on both husband and wife. He began losing himself to delusions of a shadowed world and she drowned herself in alcohol to cope. She woke up one day to find that he'd succumbed to his own madness, and once again she was alone. A certain kind of peace settled upon her, and the knowledge that she was once again her own person seemed to comfort her in a sick sort of way.
A restless wanderlust invaded her being and she was unhappy remaining anywhere too long. She moved from place to place frequently, spent nights with strange men, and sampled far too many varying liquors that left her dazed and ill. She wasted away as time passed, and her once healthy, buxom body withered into a gaunt figure from lack of appropriate nutrition. Her skin seemed to be perpetually bruised and littered with scrapes, cuts, and scratches from all manner of fights. In previous years she'd possessed a drive, and even at her worst she would've found herself working hard to earn coin. After Leon's death this was hardly the case, and she developed a poor habit of spending money she didn't even have.
Eventually she found herself partially settled in Port a Lucine. Her nights were spent in seedy locations with even seedier individuals. It was after one particularly rough night that she decided to haul herself back to Barovia. She woke up in the hallway shortly after sunrise. Her skin was caked in a layer of sweat and blood and she couldn't recall anything that transpired the night before. She was violently ill throughout the duration of the caravan ride and a lack of alcohol left her shaking violently for hours until they'd reached their destination.
Upon arriving she immediately made her way to the outskirts. Behind the temple was the grave she'd designated for her husband. For awhile she sat there and drank, guzzling liquor until she passed out. It was the sound of thunder and the sensation of rain hitting her face which woke her. One of her bony hands dug a small hole in the dirt and she deposited the tarnished wedding band which she'd previously worn around her neck. Over the next few weeks she focused her energy on earning coin to purchase much needed supplies. She still drank, though much less, and supplemented the lessened amount of alcohol with meals which she was in dire need of. Before long she'd filled back out to a healthy size and was more than able to wield the set of swords she was so protective of. Race: Human.
Age: 20s
Build: Buxom
Eyes: Green
Hair: Black
Height: 5'1
Complexion: Dusky
