Mythica Stormbound

19 years have passed

since Szorlok the necromancer slew the gods,

raised an army of the undead,

and was finally defeated by Marek and the Red Thorns.

The events Deirans now refer to as the year of the dead.

In the aftermath, Deirans retook their land

from the tenuous hold of their Vitalion occupiers.

But there's been little in the way of rebuilding.

Instead, the country is largely lawless and disordered.

Communities struggling to survive amongst the ruins.

And Teela's prediction that in the absence of the gods,

magic would soon fade from the world has proven prophetic.

The ways of mages and sorcerers are vanishing.

Only petty witchcraft remains in dark corners of the land.

Ho, there!

Didn't mean to spook your horses.

Now, my name is Rhistel Kriswood.

I'm a marshal of Deira.

And the elf, he's called Leyaris.

Now, these two, well, only introduction they need

is hanging around their stretched necks.

You see, Ley and me,

we've been appointed by the Magistrate's Council

to purge the last of the red and black rat bag

still befouling our otherwise beautiful and free land.

You see this?

Right there, yeah.

That is the marker of Vitalion legion.

No matter where these fikers run, no matter how many years,

they've been marked.

So there's no doubt.

So.

Who are you, friend?

Just a stranger.

All right.

Where are you headed?

Somewhere else.

What you got in your wagon?

That's not your concern.

Is that right?

I gotta tell you, we had a hell of a night

tracking those two bleeders into the valley.

I mean, they put up quite a fight.

You know, Ley and me,

we lost both our horses before our blades tasted flesh.

Bit stranded out here, to be honest.

You know, we could really use a ride to Desolation's End.

Yeah, it's a roadside inn a ways up the mountain.

What you say?

That's out of my way.

I need to make it through Cricket's Pass

before the storm hits.

I've heard of you.

Not just a stranger.

The Stranger, they call him.

Bounty hunter.

Mercenary.

Murderer.

Travels with a black iron wagon.

I'm an apothecary by trade.

By the look of it,

that wagon was built for more than herbs in medicines.

You, uh, you got a bounty capture in there?

Stay away from the wagon.

All right, Stranger.

You see, we've heard of Vitalions still paying good money

to get smuggled out of Deira.

We're awfully close to the border up here.

Could it be some rich Vitalion rotter

you're carrying in there, hmm?

I don't work for the red and black.

Never have, never will.

Well then, there's no reason

why you shouldn't give a Marshall and his deputy a ride!

I could order you, you know?

By authority at a Magistrate's Council.

That authority only gives you the right to kill Vitalions.

You have no command over law abiding Deirans

or their property.

And what if we insist?

You think you can stop both of us with those?

The tips.

- They're soaked in- - Manticore venom.

We'd be dead within 20 heartbeats.

Apothecary, my arse.

Ya bitch bastard!

Your companion's looking a little peaky there, traveler.

Found this boy injured on the road.

He's got the mark of a slave.

Might be someone's runaway.

Gods in their graves.

He's someone's runaway slave, all right.

Mine.

Arlin, bring the crop from the room!

The strong stuff!

Oh, if this one survives, he'll be getting a good beating.

Well, give it here, you daft girl!

Get started on a poultice!

Passed a couple of red and black hunters on the road.

The bloodthirsty kind.

I thought they might have cut the boy up for sport,

but that wound wasn't made with a blade.

- Oh, this is- - Magic.

Dark magic.

Good luck with him.

You're leaving?

I need to make it through Cricket's Pass

before the rest of this storm hits.

Well, you're too late for that by now!

Not with all what's coming down out there.

I'll take my chances.

There's no chances to be given, I assure ya.

We've been on this mountain over 40 years.

I know how she storms.

Unpassable for another day, at the very least.

You have any animals in your barn?

My wagon can't be kept with others.

Why is that?

What you got in it?

Delicate cargo.

I need my wagon untouched.

I need that barn to myself.

Nothing in the barn at the moment.

Likely to stay that way, long as the storm lasts.

I'm Giblock, by the way.

Owner and keeper.

What do they call you?

They call me Stranger.

Arlin here will take you to the barn

and help you stable your horses.

Keep an eye on you.

I'll do it alone, with my horses.

Arlin!

Our Stranger here needs his horses fed in watered.

Just one more moment with Erid.

The cheek on you!

Talking back in front of a guest!

You don't hit her.

You don't lay a finger on them while I'm here.

You returned the boy to me,

so I'll forgive you this once.

But no one tells me what to do under me own roof,

with me own property.

You got that, Stranger?

Let's go.

There you are.

Thank you for bringing Erid back to us.

You have any idea what happened to him out there?

She's good luck.

She keeps the barn clean and the vermin away.

She'll watch over your horses for you.

What's in your wagon?

It's alive.

It's hurt!

It's a dangerous animal, but it can't escape,

so you've nothing to fear from it.

Now, I need you to promise me something.

While I'm here, you won't come into this barn alone.

There may be others that are curious

about the contents of this wagon.

So if your master takes an interest,

or anyone else, for that matter, starts to ask questions,

wants to come in here, you tell me.