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1911
In 1903, Cygnar forged an agreement with the Northern based tribes and kingdoms of Desaltonia. In this agreement, a railroad was built from Caspia to Sutum in Progda. This provided a solid link from the civilized land to those less developed, and in it, both sides profited from the trade after the completion of the Caspia-Sutum Line, in 1905.
Following this a new, a new frontier was opened. Wide swaths of land were now available, via easy travel of the railroad, Desaltonia's southern and eastern expanse could be more readily accessed. And so it begin, settlers swarmed the rail, some (too eager to wait for the train) took to wagons, others not wishing to be slowed by making port in Caspia, ran ashore from the south.
And so, the Desaltonian Frontier was open! Some come for gold and riches. Some come for the adventure. Some come to start a new life free of the strife in Promethia and Amplector, some even hailing from Zhao. Some come to making money as businessmen, setting up a new market and entrepreneurship. Others come to provide protection to those who need it, some who even charge for the service. Others come to scam to naive. And even, are those still, who seek to harm and take, robbing those of their lives and valuables.
In this mess, lawlessness comes, and some try without hope to bring order. Such is a foolhardy task.
Without nations to govern (in any meaningful manner) this melting pot, this frontier, those who have guns make the law. Yet, with such risk, they still come; the young, the old, the dumb, and the intelligent, the rich, and the poor, the cold-blooded, and the gentle-of-heart.
Reginheraht GeraderPfeil. Slouch hat on his head, chaps on his legs, gun in his hand, sun on his back.
He was a mercenary hailing from Servoth, himself a deserter from the SIA. Unlike others among his nation, he cared not to march in lines and follow orders to the letter. Not that military life had been bad to him, he had in his time, risen to the rank of Komaniechef before running off, yet he had not desired to nor enjoyed the experience.
Reginheraht was, in all meanings of the word, a free spirit, set to roam the world in haphazard manner and squirm from under authority.
His horse, a young stallion which had had bought in Sutum when he first arrived in these sandy lands five years ago, galloped slowly. The pair, both man and horse, had entered a new town. A little mining town, about a mile from a mountain, the town itself was predominantly Fanaglian. Reginheraht believed it was called Village de la Peur.
The place wasn't much, abnormally quiet for a settlement in the lawless land of center Desaltonia. A little bank, a saloon/brothel, a hotel, a general store, the local jail (which he suspected was run by a crooked sheriff), and a little stall where you could buy an old mule.
The two stopped before the saloon, the mercenary jumping down from his horse and tying the reins to a nearby post. Reginheraht patted the attendant boy on the shoulder, flashing him a look at the mercenary's two pistol (a HammerDragon and a Tagan P10) as he lifted his jacket slightly. Reginheraht made sure to whisper that if his horse, Feurig, got loose or was stolen, that the attendant boy's balls would surely be blown off.
The Servoth mercenary pushed the saloon doors aside, taken in the view of a dusty establishment. Life in the Lawless Land. He pulled his hat a little lower over his eyes and took a chair at the nearby table.
In the back of his mind, even in this place, he felt the pang of something both dangerous and adventurous coming his way. He knew not when, how, or why; yet he knew. There always was. Always.
Characters:
*For some of you wondering, this is roughly taking place on the bottom of the "O" in Desaltonia, as indicated by our regional map.The time is just a little before dead noon. It is August.
