MysidiaDrakkenbane

Raevenwolf Bloodfang was a sneaky and calculating Swashbuckler. Ask her of her profession, however, and she’d cough uncomfortably and mumble out the word “Merchant”, then quickly carry on her way.

Truth be told, she was a lucrative pirate back in her day. She was mighty Captain Wolf of the Siren, and she was extremely proud of her ship. You see, the crew, was entirely made of women. In her mind, a woman can do a job as well as a man. She understood that men were more physically apt at certain things, but stealing? A woman could be better at this than men. Flash a smile, hike up a skirt, laugh at all their jokes and before you know it, you have their pouch of coins in your hands.

She was good at what she did and she lived a rather rich life. But like with most things in Norrath now, her ship wandered too far to Zek and before she knew it, it was completely overrun by Orcs. She watched with a heavy heart, her ship burning on the sea in front of her on the beaches of Zek. As a sore reminder, she carries a scar on her left cheek.

Other than her facial reminder, she was rather pretty for a pirate. She had red hair that she always kept back and piercing blue eyes. She was half elf. Her mother was an Elvish Druid and her father was a Dwarven blacksmith. It would explain her foul mouth and short temper as well as her height..and her distinct affinity for deep rich ale.

The Bloodfang family lived in a secluded haven deep within the mountains of what is now Thundering Stepps. With The Shattering, her village fled for safety within the mountains. The Dwarves accepted her for a time. They realized it was far better to be alive than to keep up a petty squabble between the Elves and Dwarves.

Raevenwolf grew up as other Dwarves did. She learned the blacksmithing trade and even picked up a few wood working skills from the neighbors around her. Her mother’s Druidic arts, however, she had no interest in. Having a skill with a blade pulled her fancy more and before anyone knew it, she was deadly with duel handed fighting.

Like with all children growing up, getting away with anything they could always seemed to be on Raevenwolf’s To Do List for the day and one way or another, her mother would have to scold her for whatever she took from whomever’s path she crossed.

Eventually, her village sent her out to hunt and capture what she could. One day, she met a human Captain bringing over refugees from a near by island. When she saw his ship pull in, she knew then, that a life on the seas was where she wanted to be. And nothing was going to stop her.

She built The Siren with her own two hands and with the guidance of her neighbor woodworkers. They would give her suggestions of how to do something, but they let her finish her task. As long as her hands were busy, she wasn’t getting into trouble of stealing anything. And for a while, this satisfied everyone in the village.

The time came where The Siren was finished and Raevenwolf was determined to set out on her own. With the money she stole off of travelers she came across, she hired herself a crew and off they went. It took them seven days to sail out of the caves they were in. The river they were on narrowed in various places and it made it hard to maneuver the ship.

That was twenty some seasons ago. Raevenwolf was determined to build a bigger and better ship and resurrect the spirit of The Siren once more. She needed help to do so..and money.

Raeven rarely snubbed her nose at Fate. She knew that things happened for a reason and when a golden opportunity fell on your lap, you took it! She never thought, however, that the opportunity would present itself in a Barbarian named Machene.

The moment she met Machene, she liked him. He never said much but always finished the job, and in some cases, record time. She would hire Machene to go out and collect certain things that Raeven could mark up in price at the market. He never asked what they were for and in turn, she never asked about how he got them. It worked out for everyone.

When things were secure enough in her shop, she decided to head out with Machene and join him in hunting down the curiosities she sent him out for. This started the long discussions she used to have with him.

“You never follow me on a job, Raeven.”, he muttered.

“Tha’s ‘cause I ne’er had th’ time to.”, Raevenwolf said. When she spoke, she spoke with a rich Dwarven accent, obviously proof of where she lived. And in looking at her, it was strange to see a Half Elf with such a distinct dialect. It was part of her character, however. She never bothered to try and change it and Machene didn’t really care.

“Why this one?”, Machene asked boarding a ship.

“Why not?”, Raeven asked and winked. “I dunna make ye nervous, do I?”, she chided.

“Hardly. I just don’t like having people looking over my shoulder when I work.”, Machene said.

And it came to pass that this particular hunting mission, several Shamans expressed their need for griffon feathers. So, like usual, Raeven and Machene negotiated his fee.

“Are you serious? I’ll be lucky if I can make rent this month with that amount.”, Machene said cross.

“Yer rent is four times lo’er tha’ that, Machene. What ye do with the rest o’ th’ money is not me problem.”, Raeven said raising an eyebrow. “An’ besides, wha’ is it ye do with all tha’ money? I dunna see ye at th’ tavern as much any more.”

Machene grunted but didn’t reply at first. He twisted the ring he had on his left hand and said. “Saving for a trip.”

Raeven watched him for a few moments while Machene mulled over his ring. She guessed it was a wedding band but Machene made no mention of a wife. She knew better than to ask so she left the topic alone.

They set sail for Thundering Stepps and reached the salt blasted docks a few days later. The wood creaked under the armored boots of Machene. Seagulls shrilled in the crisp sea air and Raevenwolf walked off the ship and took in a deep breath, catching the scent of salt and fermented seaweed.

“I miss this.”, she said with a large smile on her face.

Machene walked a few steps and placed his large hand on his stomach. He had a green tinge to his face as he looked at the short red headed woman.

“You’re cruel.”, he managed to get out.

“I told ye. Ye shouldn’t drink tha’ much on a choppy sea. Winter is a cruel wife for a sailor.”, Raeven observed.

“But the beer was good.”, Machene said pleading his case.

Raeven burped rather loud and placed a fist to her chest and held a satisfied smirk. “Aye. ‘Twas.”

Machene looked up into the sun beaten sky and muttered something as he dug through his pack. He took out a crude container and screwed off the top. A thick bleached white substance clung to the walls of the container and Machene took off his gauntlet and smeared some on his hand. Raeven watched curiously as the huge bald man slathered up his head with the white cream.

“Wha’ in Cazic-Thule’s name are ye doin’ to yer head?”, Raeven asked.

“Keeps me from getting sunburn. Here.”, he said handing her the jar. “You might want to use some, yourself. Fair skin and sun don’t exactly mix very well. And once that sun gets a hold of your skin, your armor is going to become extremely uncomfortable.”

Raeven took a hold of the jar and gave it a sniff. She wrinkled her nose and snorted as the scent of old oil wafted into her nostrils.

“No thanks.”, she said handing it back. Machene laughed.

“Suit yourself.”, he said putting it back into a bag of his.

They walked all day to get to the griffon fields. Machene had remembered this place to be flat lands that received entirely too much rain. Now the lands held the scorch marks of Luclin and craters left in it’s angry wake. But Nature flourishes no matter what and Life always manages to find a way. It continues to go on, whether you’re ready to or not and where there were craters and scorch marks, grasses began to dot on the barren earth.

Centaurs kept to themselves due to repeated hunting from the humans. Their trust for bipedal species lessened greatly and learned to simply become isolationists. Still, you could catch a few of them scampering to make a kill to bring home to their families.

And up in the sky were the large beasts which Machene was paid to hunt. Their heart stopping screeches were heard for miles around and their unmistakable sound of large feathers flapping echoed off the rocky mountains around them.

Machene looked at the weapons Raeven had on her and he went into his pack and handed her two small one handed swords.

“Here.”, he said giving them to her. “You’re better off using these.”

“Wha? Where’s th’ merchant we’re goin’ to steal th’ feathers from?”, Raeven asked looking around.

“We’re not.”, Machene said securing his sword to his back. He paused for a moment and looked down at the tiny woman. “Did it ever occur to you that I actually obtain your goods through legal means?”

Raevenwolf paused for a moment and looked up at Machene confused. Machene shook his head and grabbed his bow and arrows. He knocked one in the bow and pulled back, taking aim on a huge griffawn in front of him. The large beast hovered in the air having its attention turned to a lioness on the ground.

“Are you ready?”, Machene asked not taking his attention off the flying beast.

“Aye.”, Raeven said softly, unsheathing her swords.

Machene let lose the arrow that found its mark square in the beast’s shoulder. The large flying animal screamed as it angrily looked right at Machene. Swooping in and screeching to the sky, it landed with a mighty jolt to the ground, causing a few vibrations. A large gust of wind kicked up dust and debris and Raeven found herself holding up her arm to block any from getting in her eyes.

Machene unsheathed his two handed sword and charged the large hybrid, making sure he stay clear out of the way of the beast’s large beak. The beast’s body was large and muscular and carried the deadly claws of the lion that made up half of its linage. A fury of feathered paws swatted at Machene as he tried to take a swipe at it with his sword.

Raevenwolf crept along the back of the beast and took no time in burying her two swords deep within the back haunches of the griffawn. The animal screamed and flashed its head around to see what caused it such pain. Raeven cursed and darted out of its eyesight.

“Wait until I get its attention before you go and piss it off!”, Machene yelled. He slashed down and caught the side of the griffawn’s neck. A large steady stream of red blood gurgled out of the fresh wound and the beast turned his head and swiped at the Barbarian with its paw.

Sparks shot out as the claw scraped down the front of his armor. Machene tried to jump back quickly but was too slow in reaction. He looked down and looked at the large dent where the claw was. He raised an eyebrow and considered his luck. That could have been his chest. He made a mental note to thank the dwarf that made him the chest piece weeks earlier.

Raeven took a running jump and leaped effortlessly on the back of the animal and with her swords shinning in the afternoon sun, she drove them deep into the thick muscled back of the griffawn. The beast swung its body to the side and Raeven yelled as she felt herself being tossed to the ground. She fell off and smacked her backside on the unforgiving earth beneath them. She grunted as she felt the fresh bruise cover her lower back. And for a moment, the pain caused her eyes to blur.

Machene drove up with his sword, causing a quarter of it to be driven into the lower jaw of the beak. And he quickly unsheathed a dagger from his belt and drove it deeply into the throat of it in a quick and fluid motion. The bird beast screeched, lifting its head and calling out to the sky. Then it swooped its head down and snapped shut at Machene’s head.

Machene narrowly missed having his head snipped off, but felt the tip of the beak cut the back of his head. He could feel the blood trickle the back of his neck and stick to his armor as he moved. He couldn’t see the gash, but he knew it was big enough to cause him great discomfort.

He jumped and grabbed his sword, slashing down as he landed. A huge wound sliced down towards the chest area of the hybrid and blood poured out, soaking the ground beneath them.

Cursing, he placed his gauntleted hand on the back of his head and pulled it to his face to have a look. A large red stain covered his hand and he scowled for a moment. He would live to see another day, but he was dreading the headache that would ensue this incident.

Just as the griffawn was about to come about Machene again, Raeven jumped up on its back once again, and swiped her swords up. She quickly plunged both of them into the neck bone and felt the animal stiffen at the sudden paralysis its body was in.

In a thunderous stumble, the beast collapsed to the ground causing yet another vibration in the earth underneath them. Machene took his sword and swung it up, having the tip point at the ground and drove it deep into the throat of the beast. Death quickly came to the suffering animal.

Raeven sheathed her swords and walked down the head and beak of the griffawn and landed right in front of Machene.

“Tha’ was intense.”, she amused and a wild fire caught her blue eyes.

“I take it you approve.”, he said grinning. He took his sword out and a final spray of blood splashing against his armor.

“Who knew legal could be so much fun?”, Raeven said grinning wildly.

Machene gathered the feathers that Raeven requested and they began to make their way towards the village for the night.

The moment they reached the village, Machene made camp and threw up his tent. He spent the last hour before bed cleaning his armor and examining the damage he took during the day. He took out yet another salve and applied it generously to the wound he took on the back of the head.

“Yer an odd Barbarian.”, Raeven noticed as she gingerly took off her armor. She frowned as she saw the distinct red mark of sunburn on her arms and hands.

“What makes you think that?”, he said wiping the blood off his armor.

“Yer a Berserker and yet ye ‘ave more salves an’ potions than most Shaman’s I know.”, Raeven said as she eyed his pack.

“A few tricks I picked up.”, Machene said in a tone that he didn’t want to explain anything further.

“Knowledge like tha’ canna make ye a lot of money, Mach.”, Raeven said yawning.

“Money means little in the grand scheme of things, Raeven. It’s nothing but a distraction.”, Machene started to explain, but Raeven was already dead asleep.

Machene laid his head down on his pillow and looked down at his ring that seemed to gleam in the firelight from the campfire. He looked up into the night sky and gazed at the fragmented Luclin that shone its eerie shattered light. For a brief moment, he saw two familiar violet eyes looking back at him and he pictured the smile that went with it. Then he heard Pergy’s words…

“Find your purpose.”

He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

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