In the investigation of the attempt to bury the previous burgomaster of the town away, our valiant party ended up sinking into the depths of a church, finding a young emaciated vampire kept under watch by his father, the priest.  After a harrowing experience realizing the danger that such a creature presented, moreso than they could have predicted, they emerged battered but alive.

Returning with the news, they met back up with Ismark Kolyanovich and explained their circumstance.  The party was then able to persuade Irena Kolyana to come with them to the nearby city of Palas.  As they were preparing to leave, however, they came across a decrepit old crone selling apparently magical pastries.  This knowledge did not deter either Niccoli nor Faustus from consuming them and subsequently falling immediately into unconsciousness but feeling oddly at peace.

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Shadowgrange was dead. Donavich knew this in his heart even as it trembled from dawn til dusk. The town had never been a metropolis or even a center for the rallying forces of cathars and hunters that passed through the outland valleys, but time had looked upon the town with vindictive disdain. In the flickering candlelight of the barren church, he tried his very best to pray, calloused pale hands clutching a silvered collar with all of the faith he had left. But after enough time passes faith is not a shield anymore. It is a tether.

And he wasn’t sure how much he had left.

His blood was so close to the surface, beating beating beating feebly but steady below the skin. In the quiet luminescence he felt the wounds and marks across himself, scarred, scabbed, and open in varying states of healing. He hoped it would be enough. But the scratching, a devilish and constant needle through his thoughts told him it wasn’t. He need be a provider once more.

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Their job finally complete and a foothold for a colony established, the Brilliant Resolve and her crew make way to their next destination. On their way to Footfall, the crew once again encounters the horrors of the warp. Their trip is filled with hallucinations, damage to the ship, and even possession. Having earned some shore leave, they set out to find a retired navy general to be the administrator of their new colony.

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Ismark Kolyanovich is a confidant man. The world was hung heavy on his strong shoulders since childhood, and many things have left him in shadows of fate and grandeur of others that he felt he had not deserved. But earning your own grandeur is a luxury to the free. And despite his stature and good looks, he is most certainly not free.

“I have faith Ireena.” he says, breaking the silence in the still and ravaged wooden room. The woman known as Ireena, deep red haired and dark skinned, stands opposing him as the sole other occupant of their once lavish quarters. “When was the last time we’ve had someone new?”

Dark eyes scowl at him in reply as she perches herself on the edge of the stripped countertop. He shakes his head, feeling the weight of the world in his tense neck. “I hope you’ll listen when they come back.” he says after what feels like hours deadlocked in stillness. “And if they don’t?” It’’s a sharp, immediate reply. Her still face and dead words fill the room as he tries to think of an answer. He doesn’t. And the day goes on, until it becomes night.

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At the request of Robert, the crew prepares to enter the warp to travel to the Rifts of Hecaton. The travel will be not without its usual perils, but the crew has some time to relax on their way. When they reach their destination, they meet a strange woman claiming to be part of The Schismaticus Collective, a secessionist group who wants their own corner of the galaxy.

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