Mirata Dall'ombra-Fulmine (Level 2) mail warning

D’you think we’ll meet ‘er?

The Barbarian and Warlock seem confused. The rogue however rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Mate, I told ya already, she ain’t real. Just anotha folktale, ‘ay?

The rest of the party is still confused, the monk chimes in to explain to them while the rogue and fighter bicker.

Mirata Dall'ombra-fulmine. It’s one of the few legends associated with this town. It has no warriors, no soldiers, no guards. Just one woman, like a sheriff. They say she’s like a shadow, quick as one too. An archer, one who’s treacherous, knows how to misdirect. The story goes that she singlehandedly struck down the army that tried to quell her people’s rebellion when they separated from their oppressive government to settle down here. A woman who can rain arrows with a single shot. But there is no proof of her existence. So as far as anyone knows, she is fake to the world.

The barbarian laughs, the monk is as stonefaced as ever. But the warlock seems a bit shaken. The rogue and fighter have finally stopped bickering, their attention turned to the pair.

Lad, you can’t actually believe that stupid story? The rogue interjects, staring at the warlock. She ain’t real, couldn’t be!

The barbarian finally stops laughing.

Boy I hope she IS real! A woman like that’s probably a nice piece o’ ass. I think if we catch ‘er we oughta keep her ourselves!

The fighter stares scornfully at the barbarian.

If she’s real you’ll be the first one she kills.

The monk remains ever silent. Shaking his head. Soon after, the party turns in for the night. They march on the town next morning, they descend into a beautiful cavern of ice and rainbow crystals. Shambling through the tunnels, the contract proves true. A farming village sustained by the magical resources of the cave’s waters. The fighter goes first to negotiate surrender. No use in razing the village of a defenseless people to the ground if they comply. After half an hour, the villagers have solemnly relented. A little over half of the women are stripped and shackled together. The men charged with a different form of slavery, harvesting the crystals and what not. The children join the women’s caravan, but not in binds. The party agreed to spare their children and start them on a new life in their city, unharmed and taken care of should the adults comply. They march off the women at dusk when the guild contractors arrive to take over the town.

See?

The rogue is at the front of the caravan, the woman dragged single file by chain and wagon. The children sit in the wagon, scared but unharmed.

I told ya, she isn’t real. This was the easiest gold we’ll ever make~

The fighter rolls his eyes. Not conceding that he was wrong, but he still knew it in his head.

Further back in the line, between an ebony brunette and an elf stands a traditional blonde and blue eyed human. She shambles along with the rest of the newly enslaved. Full breasts and a firm rear, her head down. Her eyes closed.

Each woman is chained on their knees around the wagons in a circle. Their heads low so they can see nothing. Leaving them no option but to wait for the next day’s march. The party tells more stories and celebrates a successful contract. Then turns in for the night. The first watch goes to the rogue. After two hours or so he stands up to cycle around the wagons and check for any discrepancies or unruliness. He almost doesn’t notice it. But the ebony woman and the elf have scooted closer. Together their bodies mask a discarded pair of shackles and chains.

Who was here? Where’s the wom- kha…. Nhg….

He falls, an arrow through the back of his neck. The pale blonde woman stands a few dozen meters away. A bow and arrow in hand. She takes a long breath out. And the illusion is dispelled. She’s fully clothed, baring the same proportions. Grey skin and long black hair. A hat on her head and a smile on her face, green piercing eyes staring at the rest of the caravan.

She helps everyone out of their chains, but asks them to remain where they are for the moment, holding their chains to them to make themselves appear as though they are still captive. The women, trusting in their guardian, nod. She returns to the camp. Everyone is in the same tent. They’re hardened adventurers, she will not be able to take them all out in their sleep without rousing the other ones. And while she believes she could still fight them all by herself, she doesn’t want to pose any danger to the villagers. She scans their feelings and memories, hovering a hand of swirling green magic by their heads. She recoils at the barbarian’s brutish thoughts, but uses them to her advantage. She straddles the brute in reverse cowgirl and rouses him from his slumber.

Hey there big guy~ I heard you were looking for me. I’d like for you to release some of the prisoners…

Her words are soft spoken and meek, trying to appear week.

And… I’d love to spend some time with a hunk like you~ let a few go and we can have some fun~

The barbarian almost laughs, she shushes him with a finger, he grins nonetheless.

Just for a fun time?~ Sorry lass.

He grabs her neck, making her gasp.

I think I’d rather just keep ya~ let’s get you chained up.

The brute pulls her outside, pulling at her clothes while they walk. While grabbing some chains, he makes lecherous comments.

Ought to take you foh a spin too~

Now that he’s thinking with his dick, distracted. Mirata whips around her bow. Three well placed arrows to the back, the brute falls.

The last couple are still asleep, and the brute won’t be alive to take hostages… I can handle the three by myself.

Now that she speaks in a normal tone, she sounds much more like she’s British. The accent is powerful, but she doesn’t use much of the dialect itself.

She helps the caravan evacuate on the wagons, and it isn’t long when the rest of the party stirs and realizes something is amiss. They arm themselves and step from the tent, but everyone is already gone. Save from the archer, lurking in the shadows.

One, two, three~

Six arrows float from her quiver. She loads three into her bow, and the other three shake by her. When she fires, all six thwip forward and hit the targets. Two each, and they all fall down.

Later, on the wagon. Mirata plans the next move. She instructs the caravan to halt when they are about to reach the village so she can perform recon and clear out the occupants.

She travels under cover at night across rooftops. The men are already being put to work. Guards are stationed all around town. The remaining women are kept all in one building. Apparently they’re comfort women.

Its going to be a long night and a lot of arrows…

After hours of skulking, drawing, and firing, the occupation is dealt with. Everyone having either fled or perished. The townspeople can bring themselves back together when the caravan of almost slaves arrives. Mirata’s own job hasn’t finished. In fact, a longer journey begins for her with this quest.

Several days pass. A new party, a task force of that mercenary guild’s own employment has been tasked with following up on the contract. Their armor bears the same insignia. Their mission is to ensure the former hasn’t gone awol. An elite group capable of taking down foe whether quantity or quality.

Think they tried to make off with the loot themselves? Maybe think they didn’t need a middleman.

Yeah right, they couldn’t have managed to find anyone else who believed them about this place to sell too!

Ooh, then maybe it was Mirata Dall'ombra-fulmine~

Idiot. She isn’t real.

But she could be! They say her arrows fly like lightning and her bowstring snaps like thunder! If you hear the sound of her arrows, then you’ve already been bit!

Crack. A branch in the foliage snaps, the task force stirs.

What was that?

Probably some crit-

Thwip. An arrow strikes the wagon driver, a thunderclap following. He cuts off and falls still out the wagon. The task force huddles back to back, armed and ready for a fight.

Ready, men!

Fiore Art…

The trees glow with green energy all around. Swirling with natural power.

The soldiers look to the voice, but it is too late. She dives out from behind a bush. Arrow drawn and glowing! Another thunderclap, an array of green light!

Bloom!

The fight ended as soon as it begun. Mirata sweeps back her hair. She’s a far way away from the village. Intercepting the caravan for more information about how her home was found. She’ll have to wipe out the whole guild herself… and likely the informants too. She’ll certainly rack up a bounty like this, but that’s not a concern for today. She has people to protect.

The Marauders Guild… I suppose I know what blighters I’m headin for next.

She turns to the wagon horse, whispering into its ear. She mounts it and rides onward down the trail. A long ordeal ahead to keep the road behind safe.

(If you read this far! Thank you for the time! Mirata’s a character grounded in the myth of her own existence, so if you see her in a public room, it’s either not canon or she’s already got a bounty on her! That said, playing games with bounty hunters, slavers, or other adventurers she may be at odds with would be my favorite type. The kinks you’ll find at the bottom are selected based on what I like, not just what’s there. Outside of those things you’ll have to reach out and ask me personally, my answer will probably be that I do like it~ I look forward to playing!)