b0007452 - Mathilde von Boyce & the Purple Feather GangFluff - AbstractMathilde von Boyce, highwaylady of the Old Forest Road and renowned seductress of the wealthy has declared an interest in the lineage of Middenheim. Famed for her looks, chest and shot with a rifle she is despised by the rich as much as she is adored by the poor. She is the leader and only female member of the Purple Feather Gang, a troop of ruffians based out of the equally despairing inn, The Troll's Lament. Daily they raid the wagons of travelling merchants and nobles and retire back to the darkness of the Drakwald where few lawmen dare enter.
Lady von Boyce is both cunning and violent, and yeanrs for a wealth and life she was not born into. It's often thought that she would be well adapted to the draped, candle lit halls of the bourgeoisie; able to manipulate anyone she chooses with her deep alluring eyes and appealing confidence. Upon hearing of the return of a young and inexperienced Baron to Brass keep her eyes light up with a devious plan. She will wriggle her way into a position of value, via diplomacy, violence or both and befriend the the lord while he is in dire need of friends. A man as fresh to this power is easily influenced by those around and a lady like Mathilde does not find it hard to get her way. Rumours abound already that the young Baron's wife has heard of a mysterious and beautiful woman who has offered herself as an advisor to the estate of Brass Keep, but her jealousy does not worry a lady as meticulous as von Boyce as there is nothing known to the old world that will stop Mathilde von Boyce from getting her hands on what she wants. This precious desire that burns deep in her heart is to set herself on a pedestal after the Baron of Brass Keep has ascended to the throne and to finally after years as an outlaw, leave this life of tyranny to settle down with the one man she cares about... Thronin, her longest and most loyal friend.
2217Mathilde sits in her dim corner of The Troll's Lament, the ruffians that form her bodyguard laugh and joke swilling beer and groping maidens as she listens intently to the conversation going on at the bar. Two travelling merchants discuss the ongoings in Middenheim. Ducilla is dead, and thus the throne of the wolf city must have a new suiter. Rumor has it that there are nine possibilities to replace Ducilla and all are prepared to go to great lengths to see the crown upon their head. Some sound vain and pompus, others boring and unadmirable but one name catches her imagination: Wilhelm von Sangershausen.
The fire crackles loudly and although she squints and focuses she struggles to make out the domain of Wilhelm from the portly gentlemen at the bar. He stops talking, pats the back of his partner and heads out onto the road again; the busy life lived by a merchant. Slowly Mathilde stands and spectorally follows him out. It's something many people comment on, that despite her great beauty and grace Mathilde can dissapear as she pleases, like a ghost; it has lead to the soldiers of the Empire who guard teh forest roads to deem her little more than an angry spirit. The portly man begins his trudge to the stables, to meet hid old horse and embark on another long errand. Mathilde calls out and the white haired fellow turns, the remains of his lunch still visible in his moustache. She approaches smiling but as she steps within arms reach pulls out her pistol and cocks it to his brow.
"Tell me of Sangerhausen" She says.
".....Bu bu..." The man shakes and stutters.
"Keep calm and speak" She whispers soothingly, his nerves go limp.
"Brass Keep" He replies "The young noble returned to an empty home, his whole family struck down by a mystery illness. The entire estate is his."
She smiles and reveals her perfect white teeth, an odd phenomenon in a strange world like this.
"Thank you" She says politely, but add "I must have your money too".
His eyes never leaving hers the man reaches into his deep pockets and offers her several pieces of gold, along with a sizeable ruby. Once again she similes and slowly puts them into a small satchel hanging down to her waist. She half turns and relief swells in the lungs of the gentlemen as sweat drips onto his protruding stomach, but she only half turns and then silently pulls the trigger. A loud crack illuminates the silence but nothing more, no noise outside what so ever; but inside the pub no man stirs, the bards play, the men laugh and the women chatter. The world is blissfully unaware of the death of one man, only two know Mathilde and Morr and the lady is not afraid of either.
She slips back to her seat in the pub as quietly as she left, before she leans back and reaches to the shoulder of Thronin. Thronin is her faithful second in command and usually her primary protector, yet not even he seems to have noticed she left. A great fighter he seperates himself from the other low lifes by being able to spell his own name and genuinely caring about one thing... Mathilde. She has long known of his feelings, depsite his shyness and yet she has never done anything about it. What is ironic is that deep down she herself knows that she feels the same way, but a lady as smart and feared as her would not be seen with her expenandble underling in that kind of light.
She tells him she has a plan and that she will make contact with him soon, he asks her to be careful. She once again lets on that smile and simply replies he should stay out of trouble. She slips back out yet another time and unties her elegant black mare Nightwind, it's a long and cold ride to Brass Keep.
HobbyingAs I have only just signed up there isn't really a lot to say here, however I have already got the perfect model to represent the seductress herself. Hopefully I'll be able to her justice both physically and in this campaign. Moreover I'm going to make an effort to tie my campaign character in with my slowly growing PLog, we'll see how that goes.
As for the campaign itself it's my first ever one and I don't really have a clue what to do as of yet. For the most part I'm just gonna try and learn as I go along.
Really looking forward to it though
Jimmy