Backstory: Beatriss, Order of Madarua

In the veiled underworld of Cynidicea, Beatriss rose swiftly among the warrior women of Madarua—feared and desired behind her smiling bronze mask. She fought with intensity, led with cunning, seduced and captured Brothers of Gorm, recovered ancient relics, and struck down priests of Zargon—all while navigating the rituals of a crumbling theocracy with dangerous success. But her greatest ambition was truth, and her refusal to kneel before the power behind the masks led to her downfall.

Declared symbolically dead, her mask shattered, she was exiled to the surface—delivered into the hands of traders who bartered beneath the desert moon. They accepted Beatriss, and, as a bonus, her ancient sword, in exchange for a crate of surface goods. Shackled and half-blinded by sunlight, she passed through camps and caravans until a scuffle in a roadside tavern became a wrestling match—and a spectacle. She pinned her opponent, drew cheers, and began to make a new name for herself in a language she didn’t yet know.

From that night on, she fought. In taverns , inns, and market yards, Beatriss became a name whispered among merchants and mercenaries. Men came from miles around to test their strength against the pale-skinned beauty. One merchant misunderstood the rules—thought she was a prize to be bought, not bested—and left with his arm dangling from its socket

She reclaimed her sword and vanished into the desert, falling in with an outlaw who taught her the ways of the Spice Road and a few words in its common tongue. The sun was cruel; they traveled by night, guided by her subterranean eyes. In caravanserais and dusty towns, they took what her companion called “honest work” when they could, but never went hungry. The chronicles are unclear as to why they parted. Perhaps once again, Beatriss knew too much. She learned the Road's language fluently and understood that loyalty and trust were as rare above as they were below.

The road was long, and survival required more than strength. Beatriss posed as a mystic, sold protection, hustled wrestlers in smoky taverns—and still never went hungry. After five years—through dust, jungle, and snow—she was finally caught.

In the borderlands of the Song Empire, she was jailed, interrogated, and eventually traded—along with her strange bronze sword—to an ambitious daimyo in the rustic north of Zipang. 

Her role was never clearly defined. She arrived in shackles, but Sato Masako saw her potential. He returned her sword with a quiet warning to keep it hidden, and permitted her to pose as a lady of the court—while frequently calling on her to pursue other, more secret objectives.