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Played by: Lucas Woosypiti

Character Name: Cassius Mihill

gender: male

Class: warrior

Age: 27

Race: human

Hair: brown

Eyes: hazel

Occupation: Son of a farmer until the age of 14

Known skills: swords, farming, and first aid

birthplace: small farming village on the eastern lands of Faedrun. Years of vigorous training left Cassius with no idea of the name of his village.

Appearance: average man, with a bushy but sometimes trimmed beard

Noticeable traits: shy and selflessness

Relationships: none I can remember left at an early age to be trained by a warrior from Arnaths Fist

rumors: i heard he never swung a blade in his life.
Blasted greenhorn thinks he’s a lion of the order.
Quiet men hold many secrets, wonder whats in his head?

Bio: Born in the year 239, Cassius was the only child so his father kept a short leash on the boy. But when Cassius was a young lad he always dreamt of leaving farming behind. He felt he had a bigger destiny in life. Things changed when Cassius turned 14 and meet a knight from the Arnaths Fist. After much consideration and bribery his father gave him to the knight to be trained. From that day, on he was a squire a small step in his dreams. For 13 years Cassius learned all he could from his mentor William the 37th. He was taught valor, honesty, honor, and most importantly justice. They traveled together to the new land Mardrun as Faedrun fell to the Undead. They had a small home in the City. Sadly on the eve of Cassius’ 27 birthday a group of marauders caught the duo in surprise. The two fought valiantly but sadly Cassius remained uninjured. With a final plea from William he asked him to take up his arms and his place in the order and teach the lessons he learned to his own apprentice. Cassius found he way back to his homeland to find his own apprentice but instead found it destroyed with living dead wondering about. Seeing the site ravaged by death he vowed to bring justice and honor back to the world and do his best with his mentors final wish. But before he left, Cassius had a check around the village as carefully as he could and learned many villagers from here and elsewhere left to a place they called Mardrun. So with nothing holding him back Cassius started his journey…

BIO: Calvin Daniels

Played By: Calvin Daniels
Contact Info: xmana033@gmail.com
Character Name: Tor Andersson
Gender: Male
Class: Rogue
Age: 18
Race: Human
Hair: Light brown, with a white-blond patch slightly off-center.
Eyes: Brown
Occupation: Hunter, forester, tracker, and mercenary.
Known Skills: Lore: Survival; Dual Wielding; Archery; Armor Proficiency; Trade(Hunter)
Birthplace: Small farm in Faedrun.
Relationships: None. Has cut all previous ties.
Appearance:

Notable Traits: Has white-blond patch of hair on the top of his head.
Background: Tor was born on a small farm in Faedrun to parents Ander and Elena. His father, Ander, had been a soldier in the Vandergon army, but had been wounded while saving a comrade and received an honorable discharge. Tor’s mother had been the daughter of a minor noble, but had run off after falling in love with Ander. Tor was a newborn when Ander received the discharge. Ander’s bad leg prevented him from doing any hard work on the farm, and the family was slowly losing money. When Mardrun was discovered, Ander decided that he might have better luck over there, especially with the Undead so close. So when Tor was three years old, the family sold all of their possessions and bought a spot on a ship bound for Mardrun. They set up a small homestead on the west coast of Mardrun, and things were going nicely. Ander taught Tor the basics of fighting and hunting. When Tor was 12, however, the homestead was attacked by seaborne marauders. Ander sent the servant for help, and then Ander and Elena (Tor’s mother) held off the bandits. Ander was fighting on the other side of the farm when Elena was killed protecting Tor, who was cowering in the barn. The pirates were about to kill Tor when help arrived, and Tor was saved. But Ander was broken by Elena’s death. He turned to alcohol and started blaming Tor for not saving Elena. He beat Tor regularly. When Tor met a girl named Aryana and fell in love with her at 16, he ran away from home and got married. They lived happily for a few months, but Tor’s happiness was shattered when he found her in bed with another man. He has been on his own ever since, for he knows that if he goes back to the farm, Ander will kill him.

Secret Info: He doesn’t use his last name, Andersson. He has renounced all ties to his father. Also, no one knows that after he found Aryana cheating on him, he murdered the man she was with, and raped her. He can’t bring himself to kill her, however. He prefers her to live with the knowledge that she broke his heart.

PLAYED BY: Noah McCarthy

CHARACTER NAME: Shay Dethras

GENDER: male

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 25

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Alchemist, Herbalist, Scout, Ranger

KNOWN SKILLS: Stealth, Forestry, Scouting, Tracking, Survival

BIRTHPLACE: A farm in the Nightriver territory

APPEARANCE: Normally haggard, ramshackle armor

ALIASES: Deathrattle (mistaken identity), Shay the Unkillable, Shay the Black

Background:
From Shay’s Journal

I often forget what it was like, living on the farm. My parents set up there when I was young- too young to even really remember. I was still just a toddler, maybe about three or so. I don’t remember Faedrun at all, or even the ship we came on. I spent a lot of time trying to help my parents- and to their credit, they tried to make me feel like I was helping. I didn’t really learn much- or not that I can really remember. It wouldn’t matter anyways. About four years- or… maybe five? Around that is when the issues started. Caravans got attacked, and the people slaughtered. I was too young to understand what a Mordok really was, but I remember my mother holding me when I said I was scared. War parties went out, and came back without finding anything. Most people thought the Mordok had killed, and moved on.

They were wrong.

I remember the rain- it wasn’t heavy enough to stop the fire. My father just came running in, shouting for us to follow. Our house burned, as we watched. We never knew what did, and they never lived long enough to investigate. Official reports say a Mordok knocked over a lantern, or maybe threw it, to lure us out. I’ve seen a lot of things since I’ve left Steinjotuun, and it wouldn’t surprise me. Not anymore. They came out of the darkness, blades glistening with some kind of viscous wet substance- what I now know is Mordok Bile. I remember there were five of them- they seemed so big to me at the time. So impossibly big. They cut my father down. I still didn’t understand what was happening. My mother was next- and she was killed too. That- that I remember. I was too shocked to do anything- and even if I had, what would’ve happened? I was seven.

The biggest one saw me, and moved in. Before I knew what was happening, I was holding a pitchfork, pointing it at the Mordok. It seemed so… amused. The others backed off, and I remember it opened it’s arms with a sneer. It’s skin was a midnight blue. Big scar across his forehead. So, I did what came naturally. I lunged.

The pitchfork speared it alright- two across the chest, and one into his right forearm. It seemed almost shocked I had managed to do anything at all. It took a moment to pull out the prongs, tossing it’s sword to the side to do so. I remember picking it up, and again- that amused look. Like it was asking, what I could do to hurt him. Like, really hurt him. The punch I remember. Like a flash of lightning, and the thunder rolling across my skull. On the ground, in the hay, it drew a dagger- and then I was gone. The hole in the barn floor was to make sure the foundation didn’t flood- opened up to a crawlspace. I remember the confused noises, and the thunder, and spiders in my hair as I crawled and cried as quietly as I could.

I got out, obviously. I ran. Ran as far as I could, as fast as I could. I remember hiding in a tree, watching for their movement through the lightning flashes. I didn’t come down for two days. Thats when the war party had showed back up. Humans and Ulven alike, and all they found were my parent’s bodies. The lead of their party, an Ulven scout, was the one to find me. Coaxed me down with food and water- which I barely touched. I don’t remember a whole lot, truth be told. After I came down, it was mostly a blur.

Sitting in a house, staring down at a cookie someone had offered me.
A funeral.
A cart, and the Ulven scout.
Looking at that rusted iron blade I hadn’t even realized I had dragged with me.
Finally- Hernar.

Home.
The Ulven scout took me to his home, introduced me to his wife. Vikar and Tola Steinjotuun. It was mostly a blur- wake up, stare at the ceiling, have food brought to me, sleep.
I remember having nightmares- not entirely unexpected, given what had happened, but these weren’t about what had happened. There was this bear- this stupid mounted bear head on the opposite wall. It was stuffed, but I remember having dreams of it. Years later, my mother Tola told me the story of when she knew I was going to be okay.

She said that I often had screaming nightmares, and that she had taken to sleeping in a chair in the corner of the room. Tola and Vikar had always wanted children but had never been able to conceive any, so she felt it was her duty to take me in and treat me as if I was her own. She said she remembered getting up to go to the bathroom, and hearing the telltale scream of me waking. She came back, and I was standing over that stupid stuffed bear head, hands covered in it’s stuffing. I had knocked it down and torn it apart.I don’t remember it at all.
Funny, that.

Over the next few years, I grew up and began to find my sense of normal. My new parents expressed their joy at me wanting to learn their trades; Tola and her herbalism, and Vikar and his tracking. I did learn them, but even then I was still leagues behind the other Ulven my age. I remember getting into a lot of fights- never won, but always knocked out a few teeth and left with all of mine. I remember being so angry. The sword I had brought from my old home- from the Mordok- I had insisted it be kept. When I looked at it and didn’t feel a spike of fear, I took it down. Vikar found me about an hour later, clumsily hacking a log to pieces.
He didn’t say a word, just left.
When he came back, he was with another Ulven, who motioned I continue.

That’s how I met Baug. He was a warrior, one of the few in our town of Hernar. He was pretty famous- for us, anyways. Town must’ve had a population of what- forty? He had this… terrifying helmet. This leather monstrosity with thick locked hair. It made him look like a Mordok, and he used to wear it to spar with me.

I remember my training with him a lot more. A lot more about that time I remember. I remember Tola teaching me about her fascination with alchemy and how it seemed so intriguing. I remember Vikar showing me how to spot patterns in brush. Things like deer paths, and places where light naturally made foliage thinner. Baug was rough on me, but I learned. I learned, and I grew, and I got stronger. When the blue moon came, and we were called for the Great Hunt, I felt so ready. I did well, to my credit. Killed five Mordok that day. Then a shaman came, and wiped out the people I was with. I was the last one left, a trend which still seems to happen frequently.

I laid on the snow, feeling the Corruption it had hit me with slowly curdling my blood, and I remember such… anger. Fury. I wasn’t going to die that way, not then. I was the only one who survived that encounter. I suppose that Caster is still in there, somewhere. I’ll kill him too, someday. Most of my life after that was spent alone. Not that I didn’t have friends and allies, I just always felt adrift from others. At some point, no doubt lying on my ass in the leaves, bleeding, I realized no one would come save me. There were no more Vikars for me to happen into. So, I learned alchemy. I used my herbalism. I built my way up from nothing to who I am now. I’ve been in the Dirge War. I’ve been to the Outlands. I’ve led missions against monsters no man, woman, or child had ever seen, and survived. I’ve killed more Mordok that I had known had even existed when I was still a child.

I’ve let go of all that fear, and anger I had when I younger. It’s not principal extermination, it’s not vengeance, it’s not avenging the fallen- I fight because those against me fight. Bandits, Mordok, Dirgebeasts- hell, none of it matters to me. We all gotta die someday. I’ve given my all to everything I’ve ever done, and I ain’t stopping now. I’ll go down swinging, and bring as many Mordok with me as I can. And when I rest, give Baug’s helmet to someone else. Let someone else be Deathrattle. I’ll be right there with him, bound in spirit. I reforged that sword into steel, and made it my own. That child who was afraid- didn’t die, he grew up.

Life’s been pretty rough for me, but I ain’t never been one to break easy.
Hope the Great Wolf appreciates that when I meet him.

Played By: Sage Wolf

Name: Calder Erikson
Age: 14.
Gender: Male.
Race: Ulven.
Class: Rogue.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Skills: Armor Proficiency, Archery, Traps And Devices, Trade Hunter.

Calder Erikson was born to Astrid and Erik Hanson in the year 252, He was raised as a farmer in northern clan golden field until his parents were brutally killed before his eyes in a mordok raid when he was nine years old. He escaped into the fringes of the great forest and survived on foraged roots and berries until he was taken in by a reclusive hunter and woodsman that the village children called “the crazy old hermit” who taught him hunting and survival skills as well as swordsmanship. Calder stayed with the old man until he died of pneumonia four years later. After reading his notes and letters Calder discovered that the reclusive old man was in fact a soldier who survived the defeat of vandragon and The Fall on faedrun. He set out with the old mans bow, sword, and chainmail to seek revenge for his parents death. And this is where his story truly begins, we shall see how it unfolds from here.

PLAYED BY: Kyle Herrewig

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 28

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Barkeep

KNOWN SKILLS: Barkeep at the White Rabbit.

BIRTHPLACE: Old Vandregon

APPEARANCE: Black kimono and red obi with brown rice hat.

RELATIONSHIPS: Brother of Jon Meltesen.

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: Born in the year 237 on the continent of Faedrun. Brother was born in 239. Our family were the owners and operators of a small pub/inn before departing for the continent of Mardrun upon its discovery in the year 250. Upon arrival to New Hope, father and mother used all their saved silver to buy a new pub/inn. That is where my brother and I finished our ascent into adulthood before we set out to make our own way on Mardrun. As we traveled across the land, I discovered my talent for archery when we were down on our luck and in need of food. Honing this skill, I was able to feed my brother and I. After traveling all over for a number of years, we found ourselves in Crow’s Landing with enough capital to open a pub. We named the pub in honor of a rabbit that had alerted us to a Mordok horde one night as we were preparing to bed down on the side of a road north of Crow’s Landing. With that, the White Rabbit Pub was born and our wandering ways were at an end in the year 263. For a little more than a year we tended our pub and payed little attention to goings on across Mardrun until one day a cleric named Puckerman came into our humble pub with a rather large woman wielding a spear. When he found out my brother was a fully trained blacksmith he requested our services for the Rangers. We did a few odd jobs for him and gained some connections within the Rangers. Recently, we met a fellow named Akyr after my brother took an untimely arrow to the knee. He spent a bit of time in Crow’s Landing while the Broken Blade was training its unit. He was a decent fellow that was quick with a joke and happy to join us for a few rounds at the pub after closing time.

PLAYED BY: Jacob Bollig

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Cleric

AGE: 26 RACE: Human

HAIR: Dark brown

EYES: Brown

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith.

BIRTHPLACE: Old Vandergon

APPEARANCE: White and gray clothing

RELATIONSHIPS: Broken Blade, Rangers, my brother Jack

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY: I always grew up following my brother around, he was only 2 years older than me. Our family paid its way onto the boats as soon as we could, anything to get away from the undead. I still remember the way the waves hit the boat during the night. I loved the new world and the new people I met in it. The ulven were not kind at first, but over the years we all have bonded. Myself and my brother had set up a new life for us in Crows Landing. After we set out on our own, it happened. The news was difficult for me to understand. The ulven war seemed ridiculous to me. How could people want fight one another when the mordok still live? I wanted to help, but all I knew was how to run a shop and pour drinks. That’s where I found my love for the forge. Blacksmithing was something I could do to help. I took to the trade and worked as hard as I could, but I wasn’t all work and no play. I do often enjoy a few drinks after closing with some of the new friends we’ve been making, Puckermen and Akyr. I think my brother wants to start traveling again. He loved going place to place. New people are so interesting. So it looks like our little bar is going to pick up its feet and travel awhile.

PLAYED BY: Shawn Smith

CHARACTER NAME: Oryn Neowyrd or “One”

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Rogue

AGE: 31

RACE: Human

HAIR: Dirty blonde, messy

EYES: Hazel

OCCUPATION: Passive Information Gatherer, Merchant, Diplomat

KNOWN SKILLS: Merchant and Political dealings

BIRTHPLACE: Aldoria’s main shipyard city

APPEARANCE: Average looks, taller in appearance and heavier build. Often found in more expressive clothing benefitting merchants or diplomats. Strong vibrant colors, with patterned fabrics.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Able to set up long-term dealings geared towards helping support a strong business foundation

RELATIONSHIPS: Neutral to positive with most faction leaders and adventurers. Leader and friend to Double, and in charge of leading a few people within his Agnosco chapter guild like Tyden Resborn.

RUMORS: “Why do the Bloodmoons want him?”

“His family actually uses his stores to collect information from various travelers.”

“His mother had connections to the sailors who found Mardrun.”

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

Oryn grew up on Faedrun in the city, so he had only heard stories about the undead. His father, Wyrn Neowyrd, operated several successful stores that catered to many tastes in the Aldorian shipyard district. Customers all over Faedrun saw his wares, and Oryn could hear everything from them: tales of soldiers battling the undead, some new law passed in the great Syndar capital, and anything in between. He loved to hear the stories that came from all across the continent. With his interest in learning more about the world, he found it useful to help his father with his work. Of course, some of the customers rambled nonsense, while others told amazing stories.

As well as helping with the stores, Oryn assisted his mother Ryiah. She was a representative to an Aldorian household, one which helped finance a voyage to discover new lands in case of a final victory by the undead. IF the undead were to ever run over the lands people had owned for generations. From his mother, Oryn got a taste of how political operatives worked.

As he grew up, he did occasionally get in trouble with unsavory characters who were mad at losing to his father’s business practices or his mother’s connection to the Aldorian household. But being in the cities, security was fairly tight, and while Oryn received some self-defense training, he had next to no experience actually using it.

When Faedrun was on the brink of collapse, the Neowyrd family departed for Mardrun. Oryn was sixteen. By the time he turned seventeen, they had managed to reestablish some of their merchant work in the new land, and hired the Blythe family to keep an eye on their increasingly independent son.

Three and a half years later, an attack apparently aimed at Oryn destroyed one of the family stores and killed the Blythe parents. Oryn and the surviving son soon learned that the Neowyrds were in fact involved with the information-gathering group Agnosco. Seeking answers, both boys began to work their way deeper into the organization.

By age twenty-six, Oryn stepped up to become leader of one of the Agnosco guilds. The work was complex and challenging behind the scenes, but his background tempered by his experience made him a capable and clever leader. Agnosco was flourishing.

As wars come and go, new secrets revealed, and alliances formed, Oryn Neowyrd has his hands full controlling his guild and keeping various sources of information happy, while Double and the others chase down the leads that could have vital revelations for the future of Mardrun.

PLAYED BY: Ethan Cox

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Warrior

AGE: 29 or thereabouts, he’s usually drunk.

RACE: Human

HAIR: Brown

EYES: Blue

OCCUPATION: Was a handyman at the Under the Kilt bar in Crows Landing, but now sells his services as a sell sword.

KNOWN SKILLS: Fucking people up. Otherwise, Shield proficiency, Improved Shield proficiency, armor proficiency, throw, and respite.

BIRTHPLACE: It was burned to the ground. Does it matter?

APPEARANCE: Fat & stout with short brown hair, long torso and arms compared to his legs.

NOTABLE TRAITS: Quiet. Usually swears a lot when he does speak.

RELATIONSHIPS: Ivan: Retired

BIO / BACKGROUND HISTORY:

“Fight! Launch the catapults! We won’t let those fuckers take this land!” The Commander shouted.

I saw from the top of the ramparts what a rock falling from the sky does to a person. Chunks were all that remained. Limbs flew everywhere and gods forbid if the rock just kept bouncing over legs where the people were screaming. I almost felt sorry for the poor bastards.

“Launch the burning oil!” The Commander ordered.

Flaming pots flew over the ramparts and landed with deadly efficiency. People screamed out in pain. Undead flailed as they burned. Our archers let loose volleys of arrows upon their clustered formations. Men would fall over screaming with arrows sticking out of their arms and faces, but they just kept coming. I heard the banging of a ram at the gate house. The constant rhythmic pounding. 1 2 3 boom, 1 2 3 bang, 1 2 3 Thump. Over and over again, they would only stop when we poured oil or alcohol on them and burned their pitiful siege. It would stop for five to ten minutes then it would start over again. But this time it was different. This time they brought ladders. Simple wooden ladders and were attacking on all sides. Two squads were sent to each wall in order to stave off the attackers. Boys sent to defend the wall against religious fanatics. Most of the proper militia died defending the walls, so the army commander demanded every young boy and girl strong enough to use a pitchfork be pressed into service. John stood in front of me, shaking our young corporal standing in front of the line who stood there praying.

“Belligero god of war please do not let me disgrace my regiment. Belligero lord of war, father of my fathers, accept my sacrifice, and do not let me bring misfortune to my regiment. Belligero lord of war do not let harm come to my men and give them strength for the battle ahead.”

The man next to John threw-up over the walls. John continued to shake the old man to my right. I looked down at his locket hanging around his neck.

“He must have been in his late 60s,” I thought to myself.

Then I heard it the smack of wood on stone. The ladders touched the walls. Scorpio bolts shot out from the tops of the guard’s towers, picking men off the ladder, but they reloaded too slowly and there were too many ladders for it to be of much use.

“We won’t let these fuckers take this wall men! Isn’t that right men?!” Our Corporal commanded.

The squad replied back, “Right!”

The first bastard made it near the top of the ladder when three spears were thrust into his chest.

The dead man fell over and was replaced by another. Eventually they pushed past the first line. Men and women began to scream as they hacked and slashed their way past our febrile lines. Somehow we manage to push them back. Men cheered. The squad roared out in triumph. Piles of bodies laid at the bottom of the ladder. I looked around the top of the wall trying to find John. He laid against the wall with his intestines spilling out from a massive gash across his gut. I scrambled to his side.

“No. John.” I cried out

“Go on without me Jim.”

“I’m not going to let your intestines spill out any more John.” Tears streamed down my bloody face as John’s body slowly went limp and his eyes glazed over. I tried to stuff his intestines back in while screaming, “You’ll Be All Right!” over and over. I stopped, looking at the blood and green bile on my hands. A hand was placed on my shoulder and I turned to look at the person whom tried to comfort me. My Corporal’s bloody eye sockets and rotating face stared at me blankly.

I awoke from my dream with wide, crusted eyes. I then reached across my bed and grabbed the bottle of mead on the night stand. Popped off the cork and drank what remained of the bottle. Stretching, I stood up. A cold winter breeze blew in from under the door. I slipped into my work clothes and walked my way to the Bar. A kilt with a blue ribbon flew in the breeze. I sat near the fireplace to warm up. Only two people sat at the counter. One had a peg-leg and the other sat down trying to nurse off a hangover with a glass of fruity yellow wine and a pretzel. I took a piece of gold wood out of my pocket and threw it at the barkeep. He picked it up off the ground and asked me what I wanted to drink and eat. I shrugged and kept looking into the fire. Slowly the screams crept back into my head. I remembered the wails of pain as burning oil covered their bodies and burned them to cinder.

The barkeep sat a bottle of some yellow fruity drink on the table and a steaming hot pretzel roll next to the bottle. I popped of the cork. It was fruity, a little sour, but all and all good. The roll was filled with smoky bacon, eggs and cheese. The barkeep placed five silver on the table and took a seat next to me, smiling.

“You’ve been coming here for the last two months now. You’ve come in here, sat quietly, eaten your meal, and have taken a bottle. And in those two months I haven’t even asked your name.” The barkeep said inquisitively.

“It’s none of your business.” I said bluntly.

“You’re right. I just wanted to know if you wanted a job, that’s all. It pays well, 2 silver a day and a free meal, but no free drinks. I know you’ll make more working for me than working for the lumber mill across the road.” The man said nonchalantly.

I shrugged and sighed “Might as well. What do you want me to do?”

“Cook and clean up messes that are made. And if needed, to act as a strong arm if shit goes down.” The man said smiling.

“Ok.” We both shook each other’s hand.

For the next two months everything was easy. The people were friendly and the work was easy. The barkeep was a good employer. A former Warden of Crows Landing, he was an OK guy. One day Ivan asked me to go with him on a trip to New Hope to buy some new type of liquor. We gathered what supplies we thought were needed. Money, food, bed roles, weapons, and armor. The trip was easy. No Mordok and no bandits, thank the gods. New Hope had grown quite a bit since I was last here. Ivan lead me to this little brewery where he bought three kegs from the owner. After that, we both decided to get ourselves real food and a drink.

Four men dressed in New Hope guard uniforms sat in a small bar. We sat at a table across from the guard’s men. A young Syndar server came up to us happily and asked us what we wanted to drink. I asked for bourbon and Ivan asked for a glass of mead. One of the guardsmen stood up from his seat and stumbled over to us.

“You boys look lost.” We ignored him “What? Are your ears full of cotton you dumb fucks.” The guardsmen sounded agitated. The other three men stood up and began to walk over.

Ivan spoke up. “We’re from Crows Landing getting supplies and we were thirsty.”

The leader of the group leaned in and smiled. “Well this is a private party and you’re not invited.”

The waitress stood off to the side with two cups. I shouted for her to make the order to go. The barkeep asked one of the guard’s men to stop harassing his customers. The guardsmen flipped him off. The woman squeezed passed me on the right and gave me two bottles. One of the men reached out and grabbed a bottle out of my hand.

The man smiled. “Thank you for your generosity. You crow hicks can get out now.”

Me and Ivan stood up and began to walk out when one of the men pinned our waitress against a wall by her throat. The barkeep yelled at the man to stop. Two of them jumped over the bar counter and began to kick the shit out of the barkeep.

The man that pinned the woman to the wall dropped his pants and pulled up the woman’s dress. “Squeal for me hon. It makes it more fun.” The leader of the group said sickeningly.

I looked to Ivan and we stepped forward. The man meant to be on lookout was too busy watching his buddy trying to rape the waitress. Ivan walked to the bar and slid over the counter. I looked at the clay bottle in my hand. It was made of clay and was thick. An old trick to make people think they were getting more out of their bottle. I swung the bottle in an upwards arc, slamming it into the back of the lookout’s head. He stumbled over. I clocked him the temple when he turned to look at me. Ivan had begun a fist fight over at the bar. The leader of the group looked over at the bar to see what was happening as I walked up behind him. I sat the bottle down on the table and slammed the assholes head against the wall of the bar. He flailed around as I continued to beat his head in. Flashbacks from the war continued to run through my head and all I could think of is “Don’t stop till he stops screaming.”

Ivan shouted from behind the counter. “Behind you.” I turned. One of the guardsmen had jumped the counter and was coming to his leader’s aid. I threw the leader at the charging guardsmen. The guardsmen caught his leader and asked him if he was ok. I grabbed the bottle that I set on the table and smashed it over the top of the distracted guardsmen. Both the guardsmen and the group’s leader fell to the ground. Ivan finished beating the third guardsmen over the head with a glass bottle. I looked around the bar. It was a mess for the most part. A couple chairs knocked around, a few broken bottles laying on the floor, but for the most part, it was ok. Ivan came walking around the bar rubbing his bloody knuckles. I opened the bottle I still had in my hand. Bourbon.

I poured some on his knuckles and we both drank a swig before leaving the bar keep 12 silver for the mess.

Ivan asked the girl a question. “Would you like to come work with me? The pay is good and I’ve got a spare room for staff. The job is yours but we would have to leave now.”

One of the men began to moan and get up. I walked over and stomped on his head till he stopped moving.

I looked at Ivan, “We need to get going. They’re going to wake up soon. Barkeep, go find a doctor for these assholes. Tell him everything that happened,” I said harshly, “And you.” I pointed at the girl and smiled “Are you coming or not?”

She looked at the iron bracelet on her wrist. “I’m a Surf sirs. I cannot leave my master.”

Ivan stormed out of the bar and dragged in one of the kegs we came here for. “Take this as compensation. He slammed the barrel on the ground in front of the barkeep. This will work considering how we were treated here.”

The barkeep seemed flabbergasted as the girl tossed the band that was on her wrist onto the floor as she joined me and Ivan. As we walked out of the bar I asked what the young syndar’s name was.

She responded in a happy tone “Bellatrix Von Driscoll.”

Ivan shook her hand and introduced the both of us. I just kept quiet, dragging our supplies on the sled we brought. We walked for four days till we made it back to Crows Landing. Ivan was greeted by his father while Bellatrix and I made it back to Under the Kilt. I got her set up while Ivan cleaned the bar up for its reopening. Two months passed and I felt an aching in my bones. Something I haven’t ever felt before. A will, like someone unlocked a cage releasing some kind of beast. I wanted to do something I haven’t done for a long time. Fight. After kicking the shit out of those bastards at New Hope, I feel it’s time to take up arms again and fight. But where to go?