Maranon
The Flawed Sage
Wearing: Cabarello Armored Clothes
Armed With: LCR Revolver (Classic Naval-Stainless steel with brass accents and inlays. Ivory or mother of pearl grips.)
Crown of Katanos
A Gun shop on Fondor
She hadn't bothered anyone or anything in years.
At some point, Maranon had just...burned out
Nothing entertained her anymore. Nothing excited her. Nothing stimulated her.
And without stimulation, which equated to Maranon's mind as purpose...
...she simply shut down.
Hiding her presence in the Force was relatively easy here due to her magics.
She had retreated into a simple hobby to pass the time and generate income, even though her hidden reserves of wealth were more than enough to keep her going without a job. Because if she didn't even give herself busy work she started thinking too much about her life choices and she didn't like that.
So she spent most of her time in a small shop, far from conflict. She barely even noticed the Core Worlds falling to the Empire, and barely even cared.
All there was was her little ship, her constantly fixing and making slug throwers and other pistols, even decorating them. She was possibly the cheapest gunsmith on Fondor, so she got plenty of business, which suited her just fine.
Maranon polished the barrel of a disassembled revolver, not in the gorgeous finery she herself once possessed, but the plain, flowing clothing of a civilian in a tan color. Her weapons hidden up her sleeve as she luxuriously polished a revolver cylinder after getting done with the barrel. Her ritual with smithing lasted and on her break, Maranon found herself staring at a wall blankly, with the sunlight shining in through partly closed shutters in her back office, drinking whiskey her body metabolized and broke down too quickly for her to stay drunk more than thirty seconds.
She rarely spoke anymore. To anyone. Even to herself. Most times by herself, it was just silence.
Soon she was back on the clock, fixing turned in guns, inspecting imports that she could sell in her shop.
She felt empty, and alone, and purposeless. She would not acknowledge it...too vain, even now...
Little did she know she was about to get some excitement into her life.
Some assassins had tracked her down...
Jinn Lorso
Armed With: LCR Revolver (Classic Naval-Stainless steel with brass accents and inlays. Ivory or mother of pearl grips.)
Crown of Katanos
A Gun shop on Fondor
She hadn't bothered anyone or anything in years.
At some point, Maranon had just...burned out
Nothing entertained her anymore. Nothing excited her. Nothing stimulated her.
And without stimulation, which equated to Maranon's mind as purpose...
...she simply shut down.
Hiding her presence in the Force was relatively easy here due to her magics.
She had retreated into a simple hobby to pass the time and generate income, even though her hidden reserves of wealth were more than enough to keep her going without a job. Because if she didn't even give herself busy work she started thinking too much about her life choices and she didn't like that.
So she spent most of her time in a small shop, far from conflict. She barely even noticed the Core Worlds falling to the Empire, and barely even cared.
All there was was her little ship, her constantly fixing and making slug throwers and other pistols, even decorating them. She was possibly the cheapest gunsmith on Fondor, so she got plenty of business, which suited her just fine.
Maranon polished the barrel of a disassembled revolver, not in the gorgeous finery she herself once possessed, but the plain, flowing clothing of a civilian in a tan color. Her weapons hidden up her sleeve as she luxuriously polished a revolver cylinder after getting done with the barrel. Her ritual with smithing lasted and on her break, Maranon found herself staring at a wall blankly, with the sunlight shining in through partly closed shutters in her back office, drinking whiskey her body metabolized and broke down too quickly for her to stay drunk more than thirty seconds.
She rarely spoke anymore. To anyone. Even to herself. Most times by herself, it was just silence.
Soon she was back on the clock, fixing turned in guns, inspecting imports that she could sell in her shop.
She felt empty, and alone, and purposeless. She would not acknowledge it...too vain, even now...
Little did she know she was about to get some excitement into her life.
Some assassins had tracked her down...
Jinn Lorso