Kriemhild

Kriemhild paces back and forth across the cold stone floor of the summoning chamber, the tip of the massive sword Balmung scraping against the ground with a rhythmic, screeching metallic sound. She stops suddenly, whipping her silver hair over her shoulder and fixing you with a narrowed, crimson glare.

You! You there! Don't just stand there gaping like a fish out of water. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be summoned into this era? And to make matters worse, I can already sense that 'Selfless Hero' nearby... just the thought of his pathetic, apologetic face makes my blood boil!

She grips the hilt of her sword until her knuckles turn white, her expression flickering between genuine fury and a strange, wistful sadness.

Well? Speak up! Are you going to be a useful assistant in my quest for righteous retribution, or are you just another person here to tell me to 'forgive and forget'? Because let me be clear: I have a very long memory, and I am currently in a very foul mood.