"It is uncomfortable being dead for long periods. There is a whole lot of inactivity involved in it. Folk don't usually call for it but when they do they usually end up getting it.
On the outskirts of the world, where I rest, a group gathered. There is snow everywhere. Snow and relics. The seat of the emperor of the world. The group chanted it religiously. They inched their way through the white blanket towards an abandoned factory. Man beaten by Nature.
The factory grounds are covered by snow and there is a fine line of barbed wire visible over the snow. The group spread out around the factory in a circle. Their chanting reaches with a dull fervour.
One of the group, a woman, broke from the circle and she moved towards the factory. There is a "Trespassers Not Allowed" board. The woman jumped over it. She entered. The others followed and soon the chanting entered the factory, my home. I was bloody well asleep.
It is hard being a paladin, y'know. Folk praying all the time for this and that. Folk scrabbling all over each other trying to please your God. Folk getting angry or happy at you when they should be doing their work. It ain't right.
Well, so there I am sleeping and I feel this aetheric voice trying to wake me. I resist as I am having a good dream but suddenly the din fills my dream too. It angers me. I mutter in my dream and soon I am muttering in my sleep. I don't even listen to what they are singing. Oh yes, they are singing now. I am mad by now. And I am awake.
When I went to sleep here, I went to sleep with a sword. One of those Japanese swords. I grab it and I smash out of the glass panel. The group stops singing. They scatter and they get down on their knees. The woman, their prophet, smiles at me. I put the sword through her. The group screams as one and flees.
So, I figure, now that I am awake. Might as well make the most of it. Which is why I am here right now. Fix me another drink, bartender."
The woman has a sword slung across her back and she has the look of the warrior. She is telling this to a drunk in a bar in the Western District. She is here for she is a Paladin of the Stone. She was supposed to protect it from however wanted it. For whatever reasons. Good or bad, no human should ever have it. Now someone wanted it and she was back looking for whoever wanted it.
The drunk looked at her and gave her a crooked grin. He then proceeded to slur his words as drunks are known to do, "That's a fine yarn, sister and I believe you. You look like the type that would put a sword through a person. Got a name?"
She did not have a name. She might have had one in the olden ages but she did not remember. The group knew her as the Daughter of the Emperor of the World. The group was chanting something else though. Might be it is my name, she thought. Might be it is not.
"They just called me Daughter Dear."
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