Lords of Taldor: Reviving the Empire

Game Master Divinitus

Scipio is the product of a dalliance between Aroden(in mortal guise) and a lady of noble Taldan linneage (the Arnisant family) over 1000 years ago. Scipio was raised by his mothers family on the down low since it was something of a scandal that she had a child out of wedlock. He mother assured him that his father was important, but she did not know he was a god.

Scipion manifested signs of being somewhat more than mortal early on with his rather atypical strength, even as a little child. However he was provided the best of tutors and some level of martial training since this was well before the decline of the empire (he was born in 3737).

At the age of 17, Scipio got caught up in the forming of the Shining Crusade to remove the threat of the Whispering Tyrant. He ran away from home to join the effort, enlisting as a common foot soldier. This was to be a very lengthy campaign, lasting over a century. As time went on, and Scipio fought many a battle, he began to show characteristics marking his as apart from the normal mortals beyond his great strength. He rose through the ranks over the years, working up through Immunes, Signifier, and all the way up to Centurion. Eventually he was to earn a battlefield comission to Tribune (though when it leaked that he actually had noble blood, this did help cement this appointment). As the crusade went on he worked up through Legate to General of a legion, and eventually came to run the whole crusade. The fact that he had served the whole of the war without much apparent aging did have something to do with this. He came to be seen as an icon of the cause.

The Shining Crusade came to a culmination when Scipio faced down the tyrant Tar-Baphon wielding the shield of Aroden which protected him from the undead king's mighty magics. The shield was broken in the confrontation, but Scipio was able to trap Tar-Baphon in a tower to be sealed up for all time. This ended the crusade and Scipio went home a hero.

He went on to hold a few other commands, but eventually decided to remove himself from the limelight. Retiring to a country estate, and keeping a low profile, he watched the years roll on by.

To his dismay, he also watched his beloved Taldor waste away as internal corruption rotted at the core. Noble titles proliferated without any of the nobility of spirit and deed required for such a system to work.

He saw some promise in the rise of Cheliax as a successor empire, but when Aroden apparently died and Cheliax collapsed into civil war and eventually devil worship, he lost even that hope.

Now, still a man in apparent middle age, Scipio has decided that with so many tumultuous events happening, which only the intervention of adventurers have averted (Rune Lords rising, Snake Men trying to raise their dead god, Ward Stones breaking, and even an attempt to free Tar-Baphon- this could not stand ) that a strong nation must again come to dominate the Inner Sea. Taldor once kept the world safe, and if the embers of greatness lying in the ash heap of what remains of the empire can once again be lit, perhaps it can do it once again.

This rouses Scipio Arnisant to finally leave his self appointed exile from the affairs of man and empire. Time for Scipio to pick up his sword for the glory of Taldor.

Scipio Arnisant
Str 26
Dex 16
Con 14
Int 16
Wis 10
Chr 10

AC 36 (T17 FF 32)
Fort +19
Ref +17
Will +15
CMB +20
CMD 36

HP 167

Offense
+2 Adamantine, Bane Undead, Ghost Touch Falcata +22+17+12 1d8+10 17-20 x3
+1 adaptive composite longbow +15 1d8+8

Skills
Acrobatics 16
Climb 12
Diplomacy 21
Intimidate 23
Kn. Arcana 7
Kn. Dungeoneering 7
Kn. Engineering 18
Kn. Geography 7
Kn. History 18
Kn. Local 7
Kn. Nature 7
Kn. Nobility 7
Kn. Planes 7
Kn. Religion 18
Perception 15
Ride 7
Stealth 7
Survival 13

Feats
Exotic Weapon Proficiency- Falcata
Shield Focus
Power Attack
Dodge
Iron Will
Cornugon Smash
Hurtful
Blind Fighting
Improved Critical (Falcata)
Critical Focus

Special Abilities
Defense Domain
Paramortal I - age at 1/2 no need for food or drink
Strength of Brawn (Diplomacy, Acrobatics, Intimidate)
Channel Energy 6d6 (4/day)
Paramortal II Darkvision 60, age at 1/10
Scion of the North Wind (+10 movement)
Foe Spotter
Paramortal III no need for sleep, age at 1/50
Rupture Magic

Languages Common, Azlanti, Ancient Osiriani, Thassilonian
Combat Gear jingasa of the fortunate soldier; Other Gear +3 comfort mithral full plate, +3 heavy steel shield, +1 adaptive composite longbow, +2 undead-bane ghost touch adamantine falcata, dusty rose prism ioun stone, amulet of natural armor +1, belt of giant strength +4, cloak of resistance +2, handy haversack, ring of protection +1, 1,912 gp

There is a tale that is never told, except in a few small villages up in the Wold's End Mountains a weeks hard travel east from Maheto. The tale is of Carrack Athelstan at the Pass. The little mountain villages, Carrack himself, and only a few others know the tale, and and even then, few know the tale in full.

Twas a day not that long ago, a few months, if that, when young Aran was watching his families goats, and watching the rising sun out over the steppes (At least, I think that's steppe land out there) and what he saw scared the poor boy near mindless, and off he hopped as fast as his little legs would carry him, over the goat trails only he and his knew, leaving his flock unattended to scatter the mountain side.

As he came over the crest of the little hamlet he called home, he started screaming and yelling and carrying on mostly incoherently, crying "They are coming! They are Coming! We're all going to DIE!" This much each time told, the tales agree on, much of the rest varies time to time, teller to re-teller, but, if one could pull the core of the tale, for the record, it might be something like this.

The elder, one Conrad, slowly came forth and questioned the half mad, delirious child, and the tiny hamlet's population came quickly to realize that marching west towards them through one of the mountain passes was an army, marching, far more than the population of a dozen of the tiny mountain towns. In later days, they would line up those that could not go home, and lose count at over a hundred dead, time and time again.

In the end, Elder Conrad had one more question for the boy. "Did the Sentinel See them?" Knowing that it was the custom of the lowland Princes to send one or more soldiers to keep watch on the lands to the East, for just such an occurrence. One of the other youths was dispatched at a run, and he soon came hustling back from the direction of the Sentinel's rough cabin.

"Elder, the cabin is empty!" proclaimed the boy in minor panic.
"Then it may be up to us. Gather rocks, slings and runners to the other settlements. We go to the cliffs above this pass, to slow them down as we can."

They gathered what they could, and moved to intercept, hoping against hope. They knew in their hearts, that unless a miracle occurred, or they got a good landslide going, they would be out matched, and out fought quickly, especially if the marching force had any magic users, or ranged weapons.

Some ten to twenty gathered on one cliff and looked down at the encroaching force, like ants below. "They went on forever!" is the ringing refrain told by all, though, when looking down into a narrow mountain ravine, that winds and wends, it's easy to loose "forever" after a mere few hundred yards.

What they found, brought despair, and at the same time, hope. There, below, swarmed the foe, such distant that they could not see who or what, or why. Yet, there, before them, they could see the Blond head of one they knew. The Sentinel they called him. The Sentinel's never stayed long, but they knew his carefully braided brow anywhere. When they crested the ridges, and looked down, they all swear their Sentinel was without armor, holding his polearm casually.

While much of what occurred below is lost to the mists of time, but the tales do recall the following portions from the thunderous challenge from the Sentinal.

"Halt. This way is barred to armed forces. State your business clear."

"I am Carrack Athelstan, of the Ulfen Guard and I bar this Pass."

"It matters not, you are clearly insufficient to proceed."

"As I said. None. Shall. Pass."

They say, their Sentinel glowed like the sun, or the moon, or like a cloud of smoke as he bellowed defiance at the approaching army. Regardless of the color, they all agree, by the time he finished thundering that none could pass, he was enveloped in a glowing armor, and 40' tall, and 30' wide, and that his up raised arm, holding his poleaxe high, almost reached the ridge upon which they stood, some 100' feet up.

When some of the younger listeners ask disbelievingly, "How tall?" or "That's impossible!" one of the older listeners always afirms. "I was there, that sounds about right, though, he only grew in size when the army started marching forward again."

The first few ranks that approached were sent flying with a flick of the gigantic blade, but on they came. The townsfolk admit that they just stared for several long minutes, before one dropped the rock he was holding, and this led to an onslaught from above. Later they all claim that the first rock was aimed for an enemy spell caster in the back, instead of just accidentally being dropped on a toe, but with the support above, and the gigantic bade held by the huge figure in front of them, none, indeed, could pass.

When the evening finally fell, and the sound of steel of stone, and stone on steel finished, "We gathered ourselves up, and most of us went home. We sent foolish Aran to gather his goats, and a few down to congratulate and thank the Sentinel."

"What happened next?!" is normally the cry of the listener, "Well, over the next few days, we made efforts to drag the Sentinel down to each of the hamlets he saved. He tried rebuffing our attempts, but at last relented. We think Elsa finally convinced him. And we learned much from him over the week or so that he relented. Why, one of the stories he told, of how his people's leaders are chosen, is my next tale, 'How the Linnorn Kings are Chosen'. Though alas, that Sentinel, Carrack Athelstan, of the Ulfen Guard was soon replaced with another from the lowlands to the West, and so the cycle has continued, one after another."

Were you to ask Carrack himself about his time up in those mountains, and press him hard enough to actually get him to talk about it, he might say, "It was a quiet tour."

Those who know him well, have on occasion, gotten him to tell more of the story, but even to them, he describes it as a "mild scuffle, only a few hundred poorly trained infantry, with no real support. Rabble really." and "If there had been an iota of talent in that group, it might have required some effort. What injuries I took were more luck than skill, though, there were a few magic spells, for a few minutes anyway. Barely better than Apprentice work though."

Call me what you will. Freak, heretic, tool, even marvel. All that matters is that I am loyal to Taldor above all, and serve the whole of humanity until death.
This is the maxim Belain Felaris has lived under for so long. The offspring of a noble family of Taldor that took up its roots and moved around constantly, Belain was mentally conflicted early in life. The family's last move took them from Cheliax, where Belain's parents committed the blasphemous act of converting the family to Iomadae, back to Taldor. The family had not been there for almost a generation, and were not taken in warmly.

Belain was born during the family's eight-year stay in Cheliax. He worshipped Iomadae, and did not understand why it was badly taken in Taldor. It was not, usually, but many noble houses were of Shelyn, Aroden, and other gods nowadays. He learned the basics of magic in Egorian, and it was determined that he had powerful blood in his lineage. His was a house that was thought to have won nobility as a prize, a reward, or another such caper. This was proven wrong when Belain grew powerful enough to divine his family tree.

As it turned out, Belain was a direct descendant of many heroes of humanity, mortal or otherwise, in one commingled bloodline. His parents and many of his forefathers did not have this power, as Fate was perhaps directly involved in the acquisition of his power. There were many signs of this. All through his life, for example, minor mishaps and accidents avoided him in unlikely circumstances. Throughout adolescence, tattoos spun themselves onto his body. These tattoos looked like scenes of battle featuring human heroes of the bloodline, but when looked closer at one could see they are made up of text: A history of humankind dating almost as far back as humans existed.

Belain has grown incredibly loyal to Taldor to cover the gap of his continued worship of Iomadae, but it is of little consequence. He convinced many houses of Taldor that Iomadae, being the steward of Aroden and an ascendant human, is not a problematic choice of deity. Belain is concerned above all about Taldor falling into decline, and would do almost anything to restore it to its formal, rightful glory.

Belain is a simple-tasted man, rarely demanding explanation, especially when Taldor is concerned. He is tall, a bit fat but still in reasonable shape, and nearly always wears his Robes of Arcane Heritage, which are a deep reddish-brown. He has messy black hair (think Harry Potter, but slightly longer), and enjoys talking over ales and proving his worth to new friends and followers.

I've thought of several reasons why Belain would be a fine champion of Taldor, and I'm (somewhat irrationally) afraid that my backstory not being very specific will be a problem. Thus, I made this too.
Reason the First: Belain's background is well-connected to his build. A scion of humanity (no, not an Aasimar) of the Imperious bloodline, he has strong connections to his past. Given the involvement of Fate in his powers, he also has Eldritch Heritage to the Destined bloodline.
Reason the Second: Though they are connected, Belain gladly sacrifices optimization for style and flavor. Multiclassing into Evangelist? That puts him behind 2 levels on any wizard. And it's an act of pure devotion to his ideals and deity. Not is his choice of familiar, but it's as close as you can get to a lion. Also, the Imperious (and Destined) bloodlines are not such optimal choices, but you won't find a more devoted servant of humankind anywhere. More powerful, though, sure.
Reason the Third: I like to think he's pretty versatile. He can do plenty of things moderately to very well. I can't think of a closing sentence for that, so I'll just say that HE HAS A MAGIC TATTOO KITTEN THAT SHOOTS EXPLODING CONCUSSING LASER BEAMS.

Step-1
1- He was a soldier in the Taldon military, climbing the ranks he eventually became a lieutenant in the army before he quit.
2- He was born to a semi-wealthy merchant family, His father Aldor taught him that hard work, dedication, and a firm will would see him through anything. His mother Ashley(an Androanian), taught him compassion, caring, and the joy of freedom.
3- He still commands the loyalty of his old Regiment and slowly garners other support and is known for his great feats in battles, and his steadfastness on keeping those that were under him alive.
4- Long, Black hair, Crystal Green eyes, a Heavy five O’clock shadow, and standing 6’ 3” he is an imposing figure on the battlefield and has honed his skills in the theater of war.
5- He is a follower of Several deities, notably are Caydean Calian, Iomeade, and Erastil.
6- After leading battles under the command of noble lords for petty squabbles, gains and other things, Karl left the Military. Sickened that he has to fight against his own countrymen.
7- Karl has firm, set beliefs passed down from his parents and enforced from his own experiences in life. He never kills in cold-blood, if he wields a weapon against someone it is for a reason.
8- He now works under the guise of a “mercenary” for the time being and works closely with Daniel, his once second in command. He often will have members his old regiment work for him when off duty from the Taldan military as well.
9- While not inherently ambitious for the throne, or rule, Karl actively seeks a way to fully unite the empire. While he will look to others first, if he finds them wanting he would lead a claim himself should it come to that. He would even be willing to have Andoran take over.
10- Karl wields the favored weapons of his homeland, the Falcata. He dual wields these blades to a deadly efficiency, single handedly turning the tide of countless battles and skirmishes.
11- While Franz holds no love of the… love of fashion and appearance that many Taldans do, he understands the need to look noble and inspiring for his men. As such, his armor and weaponry are crafted from the finest material and inlaid with silver in intricate designs. He wears a Vibrant Scarlet cape with the insignia of Taldor upon it.

Step 2
Goals-
1- To unite his birth Country under a strong, fair rule by any means necessary
2- One day lead a peaceful life where he can live out his remaining days without shedding blood
3- Master the Dragon Style, possibly open his own martial training dojo, or if possible pass it on to a new army.
4- Master the art of playing the violin
Step 3
Secrets
1- Karl Is part of a secret organization within the Taldon Empire seeking to bring it back from the brink of destruction. While Karl doesn’t always see eye to eye with the order, they have a fairly common goal.
2- Karl does not know that the blood of kings flows in his veins, although many generations (in elvish terms) off. The blood of Elven kings and heroes of men runs rich in his veins.
Step 4
Daniel- Franz’s close friend, advisor, and subordinate, Daniel fought with and under Franz from the time he first commanded a squad, to the day he left the military. Daniel followed him soon the following year after his obligated service was done. Daniel never had the skill with blades Franz had. But he was a studier of magic, and could effectively wield a bow. After Arden’s death, Daniel had served as a more tactful mind and insightful aid to Franz, the literal voice of caution to Franz’s brash, risky deeds and battle plans that was, usually, ignored.
Step 5
Memories, quirks, mannerisms (warning, memories are mainly from battles he participated in/lead Hope you are OK with me making up a few battles :3)
1- Karl remembers his first time in battle. He had been afraid, he had been weak. He remembers the face of the first person he killed to this day. It’s haunting, expressionless face forever haunting his dreams
2- He remembers seeing the man that befriended him, and taught him how to use the falcata and the martial discipline he uses today, accused of being a traitor by a jealous noble because he had grown a beard. He remembers as the noble had him killed. Karl Remembers what the man said to him before his death, the last words his teacher, Arden, imparted. “A man Ought to have the right to grow a beard, no matter his rank in society.”
3- Karl cares not for the fancy, over flamboyant tastes of the nobles, and while he can put up with it, and almost fake it, he is a warrior at heart preferring action over patience, tactics over intrigue, and often finds the pattering of nobles infuriating. Though he understands intrigue and his tactical mind is quite adept at surviving in the noble environment.
4- Karl is somewhat fidgety, and will often bounce his knee when sitting especially if he is deep in thought. He doesn’t like sitting still and will often begin practicing if forced to stay in once place for long.
5- Steady, Hold them like this; each hand must have a mind of its own. Each blade, a separate fang. Only then can you wield this style to its fullest potential. Each blade, free to take the action it knows it must do. One of the many training sessions Franz had under Arden started this way. Why he remembers this one so clearly, he isn’t truly sure. Though, perhaps it was because it was the first time he had managed to use one of the techniques he had been training too hard to learn. But he has a nagging feeling there is something more…

6- Shouting, death screams, the metallic scent of blood. Franz Parried a thrust with his left blade, and struck the orc’s throat with his right. He was pure instinct, hours of countless training under his teacher proved to save his life. He cut down another two orcs with two deft strikes of his blade. Soon the orcs were fleeing. What was left of them anyway. Franz’s first battle had been against a large band of orcs that had managed to raid several frontier towns after coming down from the mountains. Well, by the time his regiment got there most of the towns were dead and destroyed. The regiment managed to track the orcs down due to a local that had taken it upon himself to fight and had learned quite a good deal about the beats. Franz remembered the chaotic, undisciplined way the rogue warriors fought. It somewhat resembled the fighting style he had been taught in Secret by Arden. But it lacked the disciplined grace and technique, in place of calculated rage, there was sheer hatred. It worried him. Not only in their fighting, the people of the frontier had been lawless, stealing, fighting, and even killing.

7- His next battle was the Battle of Tribulation where a large Band of Bandits had seized control of the small town and its assets. The bandits were large in number, totaling over 150 of the bastards, with less than amiable townsfolk joining them. The Regiment numbered 250 men, 150 infantry, 50 archers, and 50 Calvary. It was led by Franz’s teacher, Arden. Franz Had been in the army for 5 years at this time, he now directed his own squad, answering still to the man teaching him an almost forgotten martial discipline. He had been assigned to break through the south gate by climbing onto the walls and opening the wooden gate. After all, they needed to do as little damage to the town as possible. The Main assault had been stalled, and while the bandits were poor shots, shoot enough arrows at once and you are bound to hit something. The attack on the east and west gates had also been halted, but the south gate attack was less an assault, and more a gambit, a gambit that had worked. When Daniel and his small squad of 15 men reached the south gate, there were only a few defenders, they were easily dispatched by the 10 archers before alarms were raised. After opening the gate, the signal horn was blown which attracted attention. Soon after sections of the main assault force broke off from each of the other assaults the defenders began to swarm the south gate. From the defensive position the 10 archers proved devastating, manages to slay over 25 bandits and keep them pinned for a long while, however return fire soon felled all of them, most just injured, but out of the fight. As over 30 men rushed the walls, Franz stood guarding the entrance to the small gatehouse on the right, the remaining 4 guarding the left. Franz fought like a cornered dragon, his blades cutting a swathe through the bandits as they tried to overrun him to get to the gate mechanism. None of them ever got close. Later, after the town had been reclaimed it was noted that Franz had fought like a dragon, and soon most of the regiment had taken to referring to him as “The Dragon”. After his display of prowess, he was appointed to second in command under Arden.

8- He remembers the first time he had to take command of the
regiment. Arden had been sent to oversee training and to general a larger army that was suspecting a Qadirian attack. When another attack from the Orcs of the World’s Edge Mountains reached his ears. The only reason he had been given permission to go was due to the fact that the noble that governed the area’s tax coffers were still in the settlement. He made it to the town of Dalaston not a day before the orcs struck. He commanded over 500 men of his regiment, and 500 more town guard and militia. The force arrayed against him was over 2000 angry orcs. Franz’s grasp of positioning seemed Natural, Over a day of fighting saw the walls held with minimal losses on the Taldan side, but close to 500 losses from the orc attackers. The second day was heralded by the sound of boulders striking stone wall. The barrage of hastily built stone throwers lasted a little over 2 hours and had managed to break down several areas of wall which Franz had started to fortify as best he could before the sea of orcs crashed against them again. Franz waded into combat for brief periods of time where he saw lines wavering, cutting swathes of orcs down, his presence inspiring the men under his command the archers fired streams of arrows out into the mass of orcs attempting to push in through the destroyed walls as phalanxes held them at bay. It seemed that the day would indeed be won again, until however an alarm bell rang out from the main gate tower. Goblins had managed to sneak into it and cut the ropes holding the gate closed and not more than a second after it was opened, another force charged from the forested hills, led by an orc almost the size of an ogre. A phalanx had been formed to meet the charge, but the orc war leader and his elite guards were not to be stopped so easily. After the first rank of the orcs were run through by the pikes, the others used their dead kin as shields and grips, ripping and knocking the spears from the Taldan fighters, and then over running them. The orc leader slew at least 2 men with every swing of his great axe. As the Center of Defense crumbled, so too did the outer defense begin to waver, and soon a horn of retreat was blowing. The walls had been lost. Soon, the retreat became a route to the keep. As the orc tide poured into the village, Franz rode to the keep, grabbed the Taldan flag, and rode forth again. Shouting. TO ME! DRIVE THEM BACK! TO ME SOLDIERS OF TALDOR! FIGHT NOW , FIGHT FOR YOUR LIVES, FIGHT FOR YOUR COUNTRY, FIGHT FOR YOUR FAMILIES, FIGHT WITH ME! FOR GLORY! Rallying the remaining defenders, he rode, with the rest behind him to the head of the orc charge on the main street, the Orc War Leader himself. He leapt from his horse’s back , attempting to drive the flag straight through the Orc leader, only to have the orc block it by throwing one of his grunts in the way. When he landed Franz drew his blades, both gifts from his teacher, and in a flash of steel slew over 6 orcs that had surrounded them. He leapt over another, striking it from above before in a whirl of steel he laid low another 5. He had far outpaced the foot soldiers on his horse, and soon the orcs formed a ring around him. He fought on, living up to the nickname of Dragon, he slew over 3 scores of orcs there before the Orc leader stepped forward. Out of breath, his muscles aching, he took on a stance taught to him by Arden and readied for the battle. He suddenly sprinted towards Orc Warboss and leapt over him, landing several blows. Franz’s mind was clear, his motions again instinct, Controlled rage being focused into pure energy and strength. He didn’t hear the remaining defenders rolling into the stunned orcs, nor the cries of surprise from the orcs. Nor the hushed silence as soon both attacker and defended stopped to watch the battle. He saw only the Orc warboss, Grunting from his injuries from Franz’s first strike. He dashed towards him again dodging the seemingly clumsy strike of the axe to land a strike with both his blades before. Franz circled behind the orc again, this time forming an X and slicing clean through the orcs neck. A cheer rang out among the defenders and suddenly time moved again for Franz, his hearing returned and he cried out. TO VICTORY! Turned and charged into the orcs, his presence once again inspiring the defenders to push past the point of exhaustion. The orcs stunned for a moment lost many to the rolling mass of the defender and, struck dumb and confused at the loss of their warboss soon began to route, fleeing from the The Dragon that was a man. The city had been defended.

Have a look

A night sky filled with beautiful and countless stars endlessly expanding into the infinite void of eternity. A vast expanse hidden by a seemingly even vaster cloud of smog and choking clouds. Where the clouds end and the steam and stench from the city begin however, are hard to tell.

Especially when you are running for dear life, as this man was. Almost tripping over a full can of garbage as he sweat profusely, more from fear than exhaustion. Nearly stepping on a rather loud and unhappy cat, the man looked back to see the lone figure slowly walking towards him.
"Stay back, damn you. I told you all I know!!!!" He exclaimed as he fall over.

"Now now, this isn't like you Takk, aren't you usually more stout than this? Or is that only in the company of your fellow louts?" said the dark figure in a feminine yet stern voice.

"I told you I aint seen or heard a peep you blasted bounty killer!!!" the man desperately yelled still scrambling to get away.

"Hrm, you should know by now that we see what we want to see, is that not right Mr Fulae Takk? " she spoke. "When others saw a person willing to help the people of the slums, you and your boss only saw someone that was an easy mark, a mark that brought hope to those you kept in check." She walked ever so slowly as they came from a back alley into a dark expanse behind an old factory of sorts. Behind it a large wall could be seen, and behind that wall, a lone and dilapidated cemetery.

"They don't get too many of them spiritual types around here, especially a pretty young one like Sister Nancy. And you all with your slack jaws had to make her disappear." She said, her tone growing slightly more annoyed. "Now you and your whole damned addle-cove lot are bring trouble down on everyone. You know very well those crazies at her church aren't going to let that slide. And neither am I"

"You sure like to hear yourself talk don't you woman!" Sneered a voice from the shadows as a group of men rushed to surround the pair. Various sharp objects, gold teeth, scars, and three day stubble could be seen in that unruly crowd.

"Boss!!!! I thought she was gunna skin me alive, the crazy wench!!!" said Fulae, still sweating but obviously delighted to see his comrades. "You thought I was scared didn't you bounty killa!! You thought old Takk wasn't a sly as the fox himself!"

"Haven't been around this long because I underestimated anyone little Takk, so isn't this were you all snatched up poor Nancy." the bounty killer said flatly.

"Yeah, very astute of you lass, and now if you could come with us as well, preferably without a fight, we might be inclined to let you have a bit of fun before we sell you off. We might even be willing to let you choose were we send you if you tell us were you keep them fancy shootahs of yours!!" said the so called boss rather arrogantly. She didn't take well to arrogance, to her there was only preparation and execution, but mostly expectation of seeing everything follow that pattern. EVERYTHING followed the pattern.

"Astute, why thats a very big word for such a small...minded, but no, you see I was here two days ago, right after Nancy's disappearance. Very similar to a few other happenings, and very close to the Millards cemetery, the same place that everyone has been complaining about strange noises at night. Pretty sure they believe it to the be the work of spirits, but we know better don't we?" Said the bounty killer, her skin glowing ever so softly against the night air, as strange patterns swirled and danced over it's surface.

"Oh so you have it all figured out don't you lass, I guess it won't be much a shock to you when you end up in a coffin on one of them fancy ships now will it? They just love that imported wood in the east, haha, very much a fan of them shapely boxes if I say so myself. But then we do good work don't we boys!!!!" Said the man salaciously as they all cheered.

"I hope you made those boxes comfortable you disgusting sod, so that you and your fellows may rest easy knowing that it was your own "good work" that put you there. That being said, it's lucky for Nancy the last few days weather has been too dangerous for any ships to travel otherwise I wouldn't be able to rescue her...." She said in a relaxed tone.

"WHAT makes you think you aren't.....the one that needs.....rescuing....wench?" The boss said right before he and his entire crew of potential worm bait drop to the ground unconscious.

"We see what we want to see." She whispered as she walked past the men and found a small box hidden next to the wall behind them. It had been place there by her when she had been investigating days ago. A small and curious trinket that only one with her talent could create or activate. It slowly let out it's contents and all those around that breathed in it's foul air would soon be in world of fevered dreams. Not that she ever "dreamed", all that she saw were patterns.
"Now, time to find Nancy." said the bounty killer known as Meredith Mulberry. Her night was just getting started.

She'd rather be relaxing