The village was small, perhaps all of one hundred people. Yu'ldeo Puebla lay along the borders of the Aberrsai Savannah and Falwood, nestled between the high valleys of the south and the plains of the north. It wasn't a village of great renown. It was a mirror image of the dozen or so scattered ones across the plains. What made it significant was what brought a hunter of the Order of the White Lotus here.
The villagers had never seen anyone wear such a mask before, watching as the woman quietly strode into the village, heading straight towards the marketplace. Her pace was steady, even. That masked visage would not turn to look at anyone else, but would seemingly focus intently straight ahead, as if on a mission, with a purpose.
The mask she wore was the color of bleached, silvery bone.
There were indentations for the eyes, but seemingly no slits for one to see through. It had no discernable mouth and the ends of the mask would curve inward and end just prior to the curve of her ears. Dark hair cut in a straight slash at her shoulders, wearing a red tunic with stiffened leather plates at the shoulders. A burgundy cloak would flow from her shoulders, and at her hip was a long, thin sword within an intricately carved ebony sheath. Dust would cover her worn boots and each seemed to send an eerie sensation down the spine. A game vendor at the far end of the market had just set aside a pheasant on top of a rack when he turned to pluck another from the basket at his side. He gave a startled cry at the sudden appearance of the silent, masked woman, that stoic visage seemingly staring down at him with the stoic presence of a grim reaper.
"You startled me!" Maise exclaimed, sweat beading along his temples, adam's apple bobbing in nervous trepidation. Before he could continue, the masked woman spoke in common, her elocution curt and to the point, slightly accented in a manner that would identify her as someone from deep in the Savannah.
"Maise Tsarson, where is your brother?"
