Séfora grew up in Cheliax, and hated it. Torture and wizards everywhere. Always watching your thoughts. She ran away to be an adventurer, with nothing but a rusty sword, and her guts.

She wandered for weeks. 

It was best to go where nobody was.

Séfora found the cave deep in the wasteland. Rains had exposed it. Ancient stone, dark passages stretching deep underground.

There were old old ruins inside, but what did she have, other than this? She went in.

Early on, a trap caught her good, pulled her into a pod. Some kind of wizard thing, old and half-working. It changed her, somehow. Her skin was different, her insides were different. She smashed her way out. She didn't need food or sleep anymore. She kept going down.  

It was hell down there. Always more monsters. Always more darkness. Sometimes there were walls Séfora couldn't find a way around. She'd hammer for months to break them. She learned, built barricades, hid in passages. Just healing took time, but always she pressed on, deeper and deeper. What else did she have? After a year, she hit bottom. Found the lair. Killed the skeleton thing, deep below.

When she finally saw sunlight again, Séfora was different- tougher, sharper, and faster. 

She went home to her village. Cheliax looked worse now. Or maybe she saw clearer. Séfora went from house to house, seeking the guards, the priests, the lords, the wizards. Killed them all. Quick and quiet. 

Séfora ran, then. Word spread. She started moving from farm to farm, all across the West Hills. Quiet and careful. She taught the peasants crossbows. How to shoot them, how to hide them. Made sure they had one for every grown-up, tucked away. Waiting for the right moment. The wizards were still around, reading the minds of the peasants. They quickly learned not to. 

It came sooner than she'd planned. The Four Day War started. The people rose up and the crossbows came out. They took down the the priests, the barons, the taxman, anyone who'd hurt them. Even the old count, when he came up to the hills with his bully-boys. 

When it was over, Cheliax had changed under her. Supposedly there was a new count, down in the lowlands. They haven't shown up in hill country. Sensible.

Now the peasants wanted to choose Séfora to help write new laws. 

She looked at her hands. They were not quite human. They were still stained. 

She has some thoughts.