Back in December, we released an Event trailer that featured first look at an upcoming Hunter—Desert Rose. Immediately we saw a huge response from the community, with many of you clearly excited to see her drop.

Today, we're excited to finally bring Mercy Scribner, the sharp shooting Desert Rose, to the Hunt store. As she becomes available in-game for the first time, we thought we'd share a little backstory and character lore to introduce our latest Hunter.

Desert Rose: Broken Mirror

She could only hope that it wasn't too late.

With the barrel of her Bornheim still smoking, Mercy Scribner exited the arena to thunderous applause, just like she always did after a performance for Carter's show. This time though, her heart was racing. Not from the thrill of the success, but from the dread that had bloomed in her stomach upon seeing the audience member in the front row—a little girl—who clutched a stuffed teddy bear. Memories from before she'd left the circus dominated her mind's eye with sudden, hellish visions:

Two beautiful circus bears, roaring in agony as their bodies were pulled together by the Corruption, amalgamating into a single being of untamable rage and pain and fear.

People running, screaming for their lives as they were chased by cackling clowns holding meat cleavers.

The look on the ringmaster's face when he realized she'd been right all along.

As the memories haunted her, Mercy busted through the swinging door to her powder room, then sat on the little stool before the vanity. The sight of her reflection, which showed no hint of the upset within, was the straw that broke the horse's back. You should have tried harder to stop it. Without even meaning to, she clenched her fist and broke the mirror with one hard punch. Ribbons of blood curled around her knuckles, but she hardly noticed.

She'd tried to warn him. That “stone" had trouble written all over it from the start—nothing good ever came from unprompted promises of great power. Of course, the ringmaster thought he knew best, laughing off her concerns as though she were a child who thought that shooting stars were a sign of end times.

But the more time that passed, the more convinced she'd become that it was just a regular rock peddled by some unhinged snake oil salesman. That the real trouble was all the result of the ringmaster's dream for something better for his traveling show, that the Corruption had sensed his desperation and passion and saw an opportunity, taking root in his circus from behind the mask of that worthless stone.

Putting herself in danger was hardly a worry—when it came down to it, Mercy had known that she could hold her own with a blindfold on. But those little girls who came to see her land all those impossible bullseyes would have been exposed to the danger as well. She'd refused to accept it in the end, leaving without so much as a goodbye.

“You okay, little miss Blue Skies?" Carter filled the open doorway behind her. She hadn't even noticed him appear. “Thought I heard some sort of commotion in here."

She stared at the broken glass on the vanity and the floor, the destroyed mirror. “I've got to go back," she said, just above a whisper, only fully realizing the truth of it once it fell from her lips. The shattered mirror before her was how she saw the ringmaster now—fragmented, in pieces. Despite her anger over everything that'd happened, she couldn't bring herself to let him go down like this.

“Pardon?" Carter shifted his weight nervously as he watched her stand and start packing her guns. “Go? Mercy, you're the best act we've got—"

“There are more important things," she responded curtly. “It's time for me to be a little less Blue Skies and a little more Dust Devil."

Carter knew her well enough to realize that trying to reason with her would be pointless. He let out an exasperated sigh as he watched her finish packing.

“What if you don't find what you're looking for?" he asked as she headed out.

Mercy paused, looked to the side as she considered how to answer. “I'll either find what I'm looking for," she told him, “or I'll die trying. Goodbye, Carter. Thanks for everything."

And then she was off, headed to the place called Mammon's Gulch, where the circus was last rumored to be spotted. After days of riding and eating rattlesnakes roasted over the campfire, she saw the first sign: a lone, lime-green balloon, tied to a supply post, its rubbery skin unnaturally warm and lined with impossible veins.

She pulled a pin from her hair and popped the balloon, almost swearing that she could hear the fading screams of trapped souls in the burst before all was quiet again...

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