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A Statue's Story: Part 0When I was a child, we stopped during a journey to rest in a small seaside town in the southeast of Tora. If it had a name, I couldn't tell you what it was, only that the salty sea air mixed with the jasmine from up in the hills made an aroma that was as repulsive as it was refreshing. The ingrained stench of seafood being butchered on the docks did little to help the situation. Not that it mattered to the rest of the company though, I’m guessing the massive amounts of liquor they imbibed fried their sense of smell on the spot. For a warrior that prided himself on sharp thinking and wit, my father was never one to refuse a drink from a kindly local bartender, or grizzled pirate captain as it were. Deciding not to stick around the inebriated mercenaries, I set out to explore the town under the iridescent red of sunset.When I arrived upon a ridge overlooking the sea, wood smoke pushed away the less than pleasant odors from below, and invited me into a stone shrine. Ste
Mar history The daughter of the great mercenary captain Bram Boucher, Margaux spent her childhood travelling on the back of a gogoat with the rest of the company. She got to see much of the world during their travels, keeping a book of drawings of all the places she had visited. They never stayed in one place for very long, just enough time to finish the job and send the messanger pidoves off to retrieve more requests for aid. It was the life of the wandering hero, and young Margaux could not dream of anything better. However, as the Latias grew older she began to notice things. As a child she had always assumed the mercenary company worked for those in need, helping the poor and sick to find food or fend off bandits. In her teenage years though, she became aware that not all of the jobs her father undertook were so savory. The first dark incident she could remember was when the company had been hired to guard a caravan through the badl