Rika Thunderale
MMA! MMA! MMA!—Wait, was that expensive?
There are forces of nature, there are natural disasters, and then there’s Rika Thunderale—who, by all accounts, should have been both.
She should have been a warlord, a conqueror, a rampaging terror whose name sent cities into panic. She should have been an unstoppable beast, a calamity wrapped in muscle and enthusiasm, a cautionary tale for any fool who dared to challenge her.
Instead, she’s a barmaid.
And not just any barmaid—the loudest, rowdiest, most structurally hazardous presence The Last Home has ever tolerated.
Rika does not find things. She does not stumble into fate or wander into destiny’s embrace. When something should be unreachable, she reaches anyway. When a door shouldn’t exist, she crashes through it.
That’s how she arrived at The Last Home—not by accident, but by sheer, unrelenting force of will.
No one knows exactly how she forced her way in, only that the Inn itself shuddered on impact. No one knows why she decided to stay, only that Lars sighed, threw her into the pond, and eventually stopped trying to get rid of her.
What is known is this: she’s still here.
And gods help anyone who tries to change that.
The Woman Who Shouldn’t Be Here (But Is Anyway)
Rika is impossible to ignore.
She is huge—seven-foot-three of unstoppable red-skinned oni muscle—with wild auburn hair that refuses to behave, golden eyes that burn with reckless enthusiasm, and a voice that hits like a bear hug to the soul. Her horns are small, curved, and deceptively cute, a detail that only adds to the confusing contrast between her monstrous strength and her boundless, almost childlike joy.
She wears the traditional uniform of The Legendary Maids, though her sleeves are always rolled up, as if she’s perpetually prepared for a fight, a drinking contest, or the structural consequences of her own enthusiasm.
She does not move—she barrels, charges, and occasionally crashes through obstacles that probably weren’t meant to be obstacles. She laughs loudly, claps people on the back hard enough to shift their spine, and has the sort of energy that somehow gets louder the longer she talks.
Most assume she is simply indestructible.
Which, to be fair, she probably is.
She has learned, to some degree, to control her strength. In the past, she could level a room just by gesturing too hard. Now, the furniture only suffers minor casualties. She doesn’t flip tables unless there is a very good reason. She now considers whether a wall is load-bearing before throwing someone through it.
This, by her standards, is restraint.
Lars, who has long since stopped attempting to keep a proper tally of the damages, still sighs whenever she inevitably causes a scene. But even he has to admit…
It could be worse.
The Unstoppable Enthusiasm of a Walking Disaster
Rika does not hesitate. She does not strategise. She moves forward with absolute certainty and overwhelming force.
Some people are careful. Some people plan. Some people take a moment to consider whether what they’re about to do is a good idea.
Rika is not one of those people.
If something stands in her way, she moves it. If someone challenges her, she wins. If someone dares her to do something stupid, she does it twice.
She fights like a force of nature, drinks like a walking disaster, and treats life like one ongoing competition to prove she can, in fact, do the impossible.
And yet, she has learned—begrudgingly, and only somewhat—to control herself.
She still breaks things, but no longer constantly. She still fights, but only when it’s necessary (or hilarious). She still drinks, but she no longer attempts to out-drink Freya.
That was a mistake.
Even she admits that.
The Unholy Birth of Magical Maid Armour
Some ideas should never leave the drinking table.
Rika disagrees.
The Magical Maid Armour (MMA) exists because Rika willed it into existence through sheer enthusiasm, bad decisions, and the unwavering belief that “this would be cool.” She was the one who pitched it, convinced the right (or wrong) people to make it happen, and declared it a success before anyone had time to question what they had done.
Lars insists that she did this purely to cause him suffering. Rika insists that she did it because it’s amazing. Both may be correct.
The details of its creation—the blacksmith who should have said no, the alchemist who should have run—are already infamous enough without being retold here. The important part is this:
If you ask Rika who invented MMA, she will take full credit. If you ask anyone else, they will say it was an accident that got out of hand. If you ask Lars, he will pour a drink, sigh heavily, and pretend not to hear the question.
Regardless of how it happened, one thing is undeniable: MMA would not exist without Rika.
And she has never let anyone forget it.
The One Debt That Will Never Be Paid
Lars, in a moment of misplaced optimism, once made Rika work off the damages from her arrival.
This was a mistake.
She repaired three chairs, then suplexed a table. She worked off one broken door, then knocked another off its hinges during a drinking contest. She reinforced a staircase, then took out half a wall because she "forgot" she was carrying a keg.
After years of trying to tally up the numbers, Lars gave up.
At this point, he sees her as a rambunctious daughter—one he both loves and is utterly exasperated by.
Rika, on the other hand?
She doesn’t think about it too hard.
Because as far as she’s concerned, she’s home.
The Gentle Giant and the Quietest Mouse
For all her overwhelming energy, Rika has a gentle giant side—one that very few get to see.
Marie "Mouse" Merriwind, the quietest of the Maids, is under Rika’s personal protection.
It’s an odd pairing. Marie is small, soft-spoken, and unassuming, while Rika is a walking disaster wrapped in muscle. But for whatever reason, Rika has always looked out for her.
She tones herself down when Marie is near, something almost no one else can get her to do. She listens when she speaks, keeps an eye on her without making a show of it, and has been known to simply appear when Marie looks uncomfortable.
And if you are stupid enough to upset Mouse where Rika can see?
You are already in danger.
If you do this in front of both Rika and Freya?
Start praying.
Because the fastest way to an early grave is to upset Mouse where the wrecking crew can see.
Parental Physics and Other Violations
Rika talks about her parents fondly, though she doesn’t dwell on them. Her mother was a full-blooded oni—a wandering warrior who believed in strength, sake, and headbutting fate in the face. Her father was a human—average height, spindly frame, and the kind of golden-hearted fool who probably thanked destiny after it punched him.
How they met is a tale of battle, drink, and implausible courtship. How they conceived Rika is a mystery best left unspoken.
Taproom patrons debate it endlessly—but only when Rika (or her overly-devoted fan club) isn’t in earshot.
She assumes they’re still alive somewhere. She doesn’t miss them. Not because she doesn’t care—but because she doesn’t look back. Introspection, as a concept, has tried and failed to survive contact with her more than once.
The Kraken Incident (We Do Not Speak of It)
There was a beach. There was a kraken. There was a suplex.
It worked.
For about three seconds.
What followed defied description, decency, and several maritime laws. The incident—now referred to only as “The Kraken Incident” or “The Beach Episode”—resulted in the permanent psychological damage of at least one bard, and the temporary reclassification of Rika as a natural disaster.
Sylvie and Carmella seemed to enjoy it far too much.
Lars had to intervene. He does not talk about it.
Neither do the Maids.
And if you ask about it… well, you won’t ask twice.
A Disaster Worth Keeping
Rika Thunderale is not here because Lars is too tired to remove her.
She is here because sometimes, you need a wrecking ball.
Sometimes, the only solution to a problem is an unstoppable force with no concept of self-preservation.
She is loud, reckless, and unpredictable. But she is also loyal, absurdly strong, and, in her own way, a protector.
And despite every disaster she has caused, every sigh Lars has let out, every piece of furniture that has met an untimely end…
She is, beyond question, one of the single most dangerous, irreplaceable people to ever wield a serving tray.
At A Glance
Who She Is:
A half-oni wrecking ball in a maid uniform, Rika is the single most enthusiastic source of collateral damage The Last Home has ever seen. She is an unstoppable force of nature, a walking problem with too much muscle and not enough restraint, and somehow, against all logic, a beloved part of the Inn’s staff.
What She Does:
Rika serves drinks, reinforces furniture, and destroys both with equal enthusiasm. If something needs breaking, she breaks it. If something shouldn't be broken, she breaks it slightly less. She is the Maids’ answer to problems that require immediate, overwhelming force—when diplomacy fails, when plans collapse, when there is no solution left but sheer destruction, Lars deploys her.
Her Role in The Last Home:
Rika has no structured role—she simply exists at full intensity at all times. Officially, she is a Maid. Unofficially, she is The Last Home’s designated disaster. She is kept around because, despite her destructiveness, there are times when brute force is the only answer. And when those moments come, Rika is already swinging.
Personality & Behaviour:
Loud, reckless, and incapable of second thoughts, Rika lives at full speed with no brakes. She thrives on combat, competition, and drinking contests, seeing life as one ongoing challenge to prove she can, in fact, do the impossible. Despite her destructive tendencies, she is fiercely loyal, protective of her own, and surprisingly gentle around those who need it.
Her Oni Heritage:
With deep red skin, glowing golden eyes, and small, curved horns atop her head, Rika is unmistakably half-oni. Though her strength and durability are terrifying, she lacks the cunning of her full-blooded kin. She has none of their trickster nature, none of their schemes—just raw, unstoppable enthusiasm and the ability to suplex a warlord.
The One Rule:
Do not, under any circumstances, upset Marie “Mouse” Merriwind in front of her. If you do, your survival is no longer guaranteed. If Freya is also present, your fate is already sealed.
The MMA Incident:
A drunken collaboration between Rika, the Inn’s blacksmith, and an alchemist led to the accidental creation of Magical Maid Armour (MMA)—battle-ready uniforms that protect the Maids while remaining effortlessly stylish. Lars neither approved nor authorised its creation, but by the time he found out, it was too late. Now, every time a fight breaks out, Rika can be heard chanting “MMA! MMA! MMA!” while swinging furniture.
How Others See Her:
A menace, a legend, and a natural disaster in human(ish) form. Tavern owners fear her, mercenaries avoid her, and adventurers can’t decide if they want to fight her or buy her a drink.
Lars’ Opinion on Her:
The living embodiment of a headache. He loves her like a wayward daughter, but there is never enough whisky in the world.
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