Reaver
Reaver was setting on his bed, in his home, bloodstone masnsion. As he looked out his bedroom window at the slums they called bloodsone, he wondered, when is someone going to come try and kill me, or something? this is getting ridiculous. I hope someone tries something fast. And I hope they're a good advesary. He lifted his legs over across the side of the bed. It wouldn't matter, anyway, seeing as to how I can't die. He stood up. He stepped out onto his balcony. It was Night. Not that that really ever changed around there. He spotted a....differen't person walking down the streets. He looked like a will user. He was covered with blue scars that seemed to glow in the night. For a moment Reaver thought this guy could be his assasin, but he somehow senced the man's intentions. "Reaver!" One of his guards cried out, "Your artist has arrived!"
He made his way down to the main room. "Sir, i'm ready to make your statue." a woman stood on the far left. She walked to the other side of the room and put a little stool down for reaver to pose with. "Here put your foot on this," she walked back over to her canvas, "Now pull out your pistol, and arch it in the air like a hero."
After doing so, she began chipping away at her rock. Shortly after, he heard his door guard say, "Hey, mate, got buisness with reaver?" He heard a deep "yes....I do." followed by, "He's through the back."
About five seconds later, the will user walked in. "Oh, hello there!" Reaver said over enthusiasticly, "always a nice surprise to have company." It was almost sarcastic. "I don't get many visitors to my little coastal paradise.....Especially ones that might redefine a man's concept of paradise."
"What? Whoa.....I think you're barking up the wrong tree, pal." the will user replied.
"Oh, dear. ..And I thought there was potential..... On the rare occasion that someone makes it through wraithmarsh, they're lost, confused....scared....But not you...You're looking for someone...And if you're looking for someone in bloodstone; let's be honest; you're looking for me."
"Yes i am....I need you're help..."
"Well, that's all well and good, but unfortunately I hate wasting my time on nobodys....that's you..Tell you what, why don't you go out, and recue some travellers, or slay some beasts...Or slay some travellers, the details are unimportant.
prove to me that you're worth dealing with, and you'll have my full attention." the will user only stared...and finally, nodded. "That's it, scoot, off you go, vamoose, geh weag, Aleezvous en." the will user turned and walked away, closing the door behind him. He looked up at his statue, and laughed....."Do you think my buttocks looks like that?" Without thinking, he pointed his pistol at her, and pulled the trigger. A bright Light illuminated the room for a milisecond, and smoke bellowed out of the muzzle of his dragon stomper. The artist fell, dead. Oh my, he thought, I really must learn to contain that temper of mine.....