originally a street urchin, begging for change in marketplaces
now a wanderer, forging her own trade routes
she aspires to buy the very Crown Jewels belonging to King Shit, and thereby ascend to the monarchy
voice: hushed, conspiratorial, frequently expounds on the virtues of her wares
Mari has unflagging energy for buying and selling, and travels incredible distances to make profit. She wears her thick, curly black hair loose, and shaved to the scalp on one side. A worn leather neck guard protects her throat right up to the chin — underneath is a purplish scar given by the gallows. She has a distinctive, wry chuckle that always suggests she knows more than you do.