| abstract | - Connie slammed the door closed behind her, exhaling a string of profanities in the process. How unfortunate did her fate have to be? Why did he have to return now? Just when her life was finally peaceful and normal. She knew that Reaver did indeed live here in Bloodstone, but he was a pirate, and he was often gone on long voyages, so Connie had presumed that he would be away much of the time. That said, she realized that being upset over the fact that she had spent the day hearing about Reaver and even had to suffer though a conversation with him, made very little sense. He would be gone again very soon. "Why does he get me so angry anyway? He's nothing but a self serving dog, I would be wise to just remember that and pay him no heed." She said to herself. Men like Reaver could never stand being ignored, and Connie knew that if he fancied her and she were constantly ignoring him, he would probably go back to sea even faster. At least that is what she hoped would happen. One could never be too sure what Reaver was plotting in his twisted mind, and the very idea made Connie's stomache turn. He wanted her, it was obvious, and Reaver always got what he wanted in the end. Oakvale was proof of it. Connie shuddered at the memory of the first time she had ever had to adventure through Wraithmarsh, of how shocked she had been when Theresa had told her that it used to be a small town, and that someone had sacraficed it to the forces of shadow, in return for eternal life and youth. When she found out in the Shadow Court that it was indeed Reaver who was responsible, she had felt her blood freeze. "Now he wants to sleep with me?! Does he really think that I would ever love such a heartless monster Lance?" Connie spoke to the confused wolfdog. Lance simply cocked his head and whined. Connie smiled. She let her body slide down the door and sat next to her faithful friend. He came over and nudged at her arm, prompting Connie to pat his soft white fur. "I'm sorry that I've been acting crazy today Lance. I guess I just wasn't expecting to see him again so soon." Connie explained to him, as he breathed in and out onto her lap. The two of them sat there on the floorboards for some time, never moving, simply relaxing and enjoying each others company. Connie glanced up at her longsword that now decorated the living room of her small home. Such battles it had seen! She had hung it up there about a year ago, when she had decided to retire from the hero lifestyle. Inb her mind, she had acomplished what she had set out to do so long ago, and now it was time for her to enjoy her own life, free from the rules and constraints of being a hero. She hoped that eventually, she would meet someone to share her humble abode with, and maybe even have a few kids, Connie had always wanted a family, possibly to help fill the void in her heart from loosing her own family so long ago. Her parents had abandoned her and her sister, Rose, when they were both very young. Connie had been only six years old when it happened, and she remembered telling Rose that one day they would come back for them, that they were just on a really long shopping trip. Rose however, was far less optamistic. The twelve year old had even heard their parents fighting about what to do with them, although she had never told Connie this. Apparently the family was very poor and couldn't afford rent or even food to put on the table. Somehow, Connie had always felt as if her parents were trying their best to take care of her and her sister, even though she now knew that they had merely been selfish. Ah Rose, she had tried so very hard for them. She built a small lean-to out of old wood and barrels when it was clear to her that their parents had were not returning. Connie still recalled how cold and uncomfortable it had been, sleeping ouside like that, even in the summer. But Rose tried her very best to keep them, and for that Connie had the utmost gratitude and respect. Which was why she had spent the good portion of her life on the quest to avenge her sisters death. It was the very least that she could do, Rose had done so much for her, without Rose's protection and care, Connie knew that she would have died out there in the cold Bowerstone streets. Connie rubbed a tear from her blue eyes as the precious memories ripped at her heart. She knew, even though Lucien was dead, a peice of her heart had died with him. Even in his death, she would never get to see Rose again. Lance stood and groaned as he walked over to his food bowl and dug in. The sound of his crunching and chewing snapped Connie out of her memories and back into the moment. Her own stromache began to rumble and she laughed when Lance stopped eating and glanced up at it. "Ok, maybe it is dinner time." Connie continued to walk over to the kitchen, eyeing Lance as she did so. She reached up to the shelves and fetched some salted meat and a carrot, and threw them into a large cooking pot. She placed said pot onto the small stove at the back of the room, and finally poured in some water. Stew sounded good. Connie stood over the boiling pot, constently stirring her creation. The smell of the stew cooking attracted Lance, and Connie tossed him a small bite of the meat, which he quickly gobbled up. The stew was nearly complete and Connie was just getting a bowl for herself when she heard a loud boom. She sat the bowl down and looked out her kitchen window. There were people walking up towards something. Connie shook her head and went back to her stew. Then another boom came, rocking her small home as it did so. This time, Connie ran outside to see if she could find out what was going on. She looked up and saw Reaver's mansion in the distance, and she also now saw the source of the booms. Fireworks. She gritted her teeth as she watched as a yellow shot of light lit up the night sky, just above her house. "He had better watch where those things are going or so help me I'll..." She barely had time to finish as the yellow shards of fire came raining down upon her home. Instantly, the cheap wood burst into flames, and Connie rushed back inside to try and put out the fire from her second story porch. But by the time she climbed the stairs, the fire had spread. As the blaze engulfed her bedroom and licked its way downstairs, Connie had no choice but to grab her sachel, and whistle for Lance. The two made it outside, just as the flames had reached the living room and kitchen. A loud crack and pow could be heard, as the glass in the windows shattered and the stove exploded. Connie and Lance were now far enough away from the blaze, so they were not harmed. But the same could not be said for their home. Connie held onto Lance as she watched the house that she had saved up for burn to the ground. Her sadness was quickly replaced by rage as she turned and looked up at Reavers mansion. Connie pulled out her clockwork pistol and started up the path. It was time to go and have a little chat with the Hero of Skill.
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