From the journal of Bastian Kavanaugh…
Good Morrow! What have I gotten myself into? My memory’s a bit fuzzy on the other night. I had lost myself in some Morrow-forsaken hole in Ord, trying to drink myself to death in peace. Then out of the blue, Rowan Voyle appears, trying to bring me in for some job. The fellow won’t even order a drink. Strange, he is. Anyway, we go to leave, and there’s Makarov – yeah, that Makarov – with a bloody grin on. I don’t rightly recall what happened next, but I may have drawn steel on her… No harm done, I suppose. Next I know, I’m on a train to bloody Korsk of all places. I meet there with a dwarf, Tavik Stonehammer, who wants me to join his crew of bounty hunters – Dogcatchers, he calls them. Stonehammer seems like a decent sort. Then there’s Dinalagos, a quiet Nyss fellow, and Gashunk, the resident trollkin bruiser. We got us a job to bring in a Khadoran deserter named Anton, and we track him to the Khador/Llael border. We took out the mercs guarding him and got Anton in custody, though someone in the woods tried to snipe him. Don’t know where the sniper ran off to. Turns out Anton was blackmailed. He was taking Khadoran plans for a new Colossus to L.R., whoever that is. We dragged Anton back to Korsk and turned him in. I’m sure the military will sort it out.
I may have found something to occupy my free time at least. Stonehammer is letting me use the warehouse out back as a workshop. I’m putting together a big rifle to bring in some coin, as the warehouse is far shy of a proper workshop, and equipment is not cheap, no sir. Hopefully the locals don’t mind buying from a Cygnaran, though I think the quality of my work and cleverly reduced prices will draw their eyes.
I’ve been lost for some time, but I feel something on the horizon. I hope it’s something good. Time will tell, I suppose.