<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/75s1gSq.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Irene Vincent<br/><strong>HP:</strong>52 / 52 -<strong>AC:</strong>20 -<strong>Energy:</strong>40 / 40<br/><strong>Passives:</strong>Empathy: 11, Insight: 15, Perception: 15<hr/><strong><em>Morning</em></strong><br/><br/>Irene could hear her breath echoing around inside the impassive mask, sweat matting her hair to the top of her head as the morning light peaked through the towering buildings of Paradise.  With practiced ease, she controlled her rate of breathing, keeping her hand steady before double-clicking the trigger in her hand.  A flicker of brilliant blue-white light shined at the tip of the wand in her hand, the bright electric arc capable of permanently scarring vision if looked at unguarded, and she got to work pressing it to the join of the red and white armored shell that was currently secured upon a rack.  Golden sparks showered onto the bare concrete floor, molten solder rolling off of her coveralls in places as she went about affixing the new armored plating onto the linear frame that aided her movements in the field.<br/><br/>It had been a slow week while she'd waited for the smith to finish casting the new plates for her suit.  The Haud bandits she'd dragged in had put up a hell of a fight.  She'd managed to buff out the dents that had been hammered into the suit by their maces without too much effort, but the leader had been more than advertised.  After he'd crushed the delicate servos in her right wrist, there hadn't been much doubt that he was some kind of monk, and that was before he started melting in and out of the shadows around their camp.  She'd managed to avoid getting her head taken off by sacrificing her shoulder, but he'd torn the pauldron clear out of its moorings.  He might have even taken her out, except he mistook her pistol for a fancy crossbow.  As he made practiced sweeping gestures to brush quarrels out of the air, the force bolts instead shattered the wrist and elbow of his dominant arm, bringing the fight back to even ground.  He tried to compensate for the bad arm with some strange-looking kicking stance that allowed him to bring his tail into play more often, but she managed to get under one of his high kicks and shoot in on his balancing leg.  She might not have been able to turn her right wrist much, but she was fine clubbing him in the face with her mailed fist until she managed to get through his thick skull.<br/><br/>Lashing the bastards to a make-shift sled and dragging them through the wilderness back to Paradise had almost been more effort than it was worth.  It's tough to renegotiate a bounty after you've already bagged it, but she managed to leverage her armor's damage into some appropriate "compensation", since the Guild's information had been so lacking.  Now, she smiled behind her welding mask.  Since she'd had to rebuild the servos in the wrist anyway, it gave her an opportunity to try a new assembly she'd sketched out.  The old design had braced the wrist to better protect it in striking combat, but at heart Irene was a shooter.  The new design was a bit more open, but it meant that she could fully bend her wrist back, improving her quickdraw and letting her better snap her wrist when throwing things.  Of course, if one was talking about throwing, the modifications to the pauldron were also--<br/><br/><strong>"YO!  Mail call!"</strong><br/><br/>With a sharp snap, the arc welder clicked off as Irene flipped the welder's mask up to show her face.  Brilliant green eyes shone with curiosity as she took her first unfettered breath in a while.  Short and broad, a dwarf with bushy eyebrows that completely obscured his eyes, waved a small stack of papers at his tenant.  Finding a place with the proper setup to function as her workshop hadn't been easy, but Bogrim's son had gone off to college and dwarves had never been the sort to let a bit of sentiment stand between them and more income.  The only real problem had been moving in a bed that was actually big enough for her.<br/><br/>"Anything good today, Pops?" she asked, switching off the electric current and setting the welder down to cool, unzipping the front of her coveralls to get a bit of air flow to the body underneath.<br/><br/><strong>"Looks like some personal correspondence."</strong>the broad-nosed old man said, stroking his thick fingers through the black, bristly beard that had to be bound in rope-like braids to keep from sticking out at all angles.  Irene took the stack of papers, thumbing over a few bills, coupon books for shops she never went to, her check from the Bounty Hunter's Guild.  Finally, she found what he was talking about.<br/><br/>". . . Mistshrine, huh?" she remarked, eyebrows lifting in curiosity at the name on the envelope.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Area Knowledge Roll</div><div class="spoiler_body">At 2021-07-29 23:00:13, Irene Vincent (uid: 52581) rolls: 1d20a1 Result: 11 (https://elliquiy.com/forums/dicebot.php?r=154929)</div></div><hr/><strong><em>6pm</em></strong><br/><br/>Being "fully prepared to move out" meant that Irene had shown up to Mel's brick home sealed in her full armor, the fur cowl hung over her brightly colored armored shoulders like a trophy giving her a slightly wild air for a knight.  A battle axe hung from a loop on her belt, just as the leather holster on her right hip kept the bulky metallic blaster secured.  She'd taken the time to apply a fresh coat of paint to hide the refurbishing of her armor, and detailed the seams so that she fairly shown in the warm lighting of Mel's home.  Still, the cameras in her impassive white helmet swept over the gathered assembly as people found their seats.  She gripped the back of her chair as she lowered herself into her seat, as if uncertain the chair would be able to take her armor's weight.<br/><br/>When Ferrick listed "pacifist" among his titles, she tilted her head towards him slightly.  Rather than comment directly, she shook her head, reaching up along her jaw and undoing the clasps that secured her helmet to the join in her flexible gorget.  Pulling the helmet off, she tucked it under her arm.<br/><br/>"Irene Vincent, Techknight and Bounty Hunter." she introduced simply, "I shoot, I track, and I can be surprisingly clandestine in this armor." she said with a bit of a smirk, "I'm not sure what kind of travel arrangements you've made, but I can pilot just about anything."