Mollewyn is a jouster, and pride of the tourney circuit. Country faire and royal court alike know her prowess (theatrical as it may be) and when she trots in on a courser, fans cheering her on and waving flags, it's hard not to feel a bit inspired at the sight. Being a professional athlete in a fantastical world brings much of the renown of actual heroes, without any of the danger.

Unfortunately her aptitude for battle tends to end when the riding does, and thus far she is a particularly inferior combatant in traditional showman melee...let alone real, life-or-death combat. Molly does so well in competition, truth to tell, because she so rarely allows herself to become unseated in the first place.

However, the "Queen of the Coronal" now finds herself on the run. After stepping in to protect a wanderer from a band of ruffians, she unwittingly finds herself pulled into a dangerous mystery. For the man she saved was a wayward royal in disguise, and now this band thinks she must have some part to play or some object they desire. She is not yet sure of anything, other than the dogged steps they pursue her with, and the constant horse chases through hill and dale she's forced to run...or more often than not, run away from. Thankfully she has no little talent in this regard, and has thus far managed to elude them...for an engagement would not work in her favor. She often comes up with tricks and traps, such as wearing out the fatigue of all mounts before vaulting to a fresh one, or else simply leads a merry chase through twisted path and wandering wood with her superior riding skills.

Mollewyn does not yet know what she's gotten pulled into, so she begins a training regiment to help build her lacking melee skills, often with fans and friends around the land coaching or cheering her on by waving her standard. As long as these villains know she's a force to be reckoned with when riding...and don't know that she's powerless when not...she should be fine.

She could be fine. Might be. Will she? I'm sure she'll probably be fine.

But why do you inquire, seeker? Do you know something about the her predicament that she does not? Are you similarly involved? Fear not and approach, for she's always ready to drop what she's doing and jump into the saddle.

While her seat-of-the-pants exploits often mean that she has to find or "borrow" whatever steed is nearby, she tries to stay with her own stallion as often as she's able. A blonde sorrel named Sunset ("have you ever tried to catch the sunset?" she'll offer with a grin) can often be seen nearby with regalia bearing a sun on red, though he can also be seen in other varieties of barding. Mollewyn often talks to herself by talking to her horse, and while Sunset clearly can't understand her, he seems to have the dedication and self control of a well trained canine. He performs tricks on command, though according to the celebrity "only when I feed him plenty of treats, as per our agreement; my partner here is a shrewder negotiator than I, and I dare say I should have made him my agent instead."

In some ways, she's a fairly stereotypical jock: average intelligence with moments bordering on the obtuse, but ample physical strength and agility. She could no doubt run an obstacle course without actually riding Sunset; she may not know how to fight, but she excels at any other contest of bodily acumen. This is thanks to her long held exercise schedule, which involves 3 hours of physical training and 5 hours of riding each day. She virtually never cheats in this dedication as it's essentially her job (though she may start far later if it's after a night of partying) and tourneys or races are only held a few times each year. She sees her body as a temple and usually sticks with drinking water, though gets dismayed that so few taverns carry it. Rhyanda, currently attempting to protect her from the mysterious pursuers, might believe she once drank out of the horse trough...despite Molly's somewhat muddled protestations.

She is decently well off, but not in any traditional sense: she has very little coin to her name. She instead has a selection of sponsors of the sport, who buy her equipment or lodgings or entertainments. This does mean that she has far less say in what such funds go to. Her only real income is from sport winnings, and while the pot often goes to her, she tends to blow through it with both a swashbuckler's appetites as well as their lack of common sense.

Molly seems to enjoy winning favour as much as coin, and sees stealing women away from rival competitors as simply another layer of the game...or at the very least, a preferable consolation prize. Though exceedingly charming, only gullible milkmaids really fall for the sudden departure: she's clearly the type who can get a girl in every port, and the type that sees no reason not to. Someone would have to tame her like she tamed Sunset, to understand the bond between two people.

So far, her mysterious enemies don't know that Molly can often be found at The Lumbering Dwarf. She used to need a steady supply of tourney jousting lances; now Old Crag provides a safe haven on those days when she's tracked down and doesn't want to spend yet another night in a rainy stable. Thankfully, the quaint village of Fullbridge has so far offered her a moment's respite. Why the jouster and the sheriff have elected to break this cover and attract attention here is anybody's guess, but whispers hold that it might be a ruse to draw out Molly's pursuers.

"Queen of the Coronal​" used to be an endearing nickname for her on the jousting circuit, though now it's being used by her enemies in a mocking manner. A coronal is the prong fitted for a joust of peace instead of the sharp point used for war: redirecting the impact to make it safer for the "victim," while bringing the lance to a visually spectacular shatter for the crowd. Her adversaries now bring it up as a comment on her lack of real combat skill, though her fans still use it with the utmost respect.