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Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"

"We all have our tales of woe, so if it's a sad story you're looking for, find someone more chatty."

0 · 260 views · located in Wifield

a character in “The Gentlemen Robbers”, as played by Kohananinja

Description

Gwen is a slim young woman with creamy white skin, and a shapely figure that makes disguising her gender rather difficult, so for the most part she doesn't try. She wears tall boots, britches, a white frock, and a long dark overcoat that's at least one size too big for her. She keeps her long, flaming red hair pinned up in a bun, and hidden under a plain tricorn hat, and wears an old, dark, blue, scarf that hides the bottom half of her face when robbing on the King's Highway, her yellow green eyes the only striking feature showing on her face.

Personality

In reality, Gwen is cautious and a compulsive planner with a multitude of trust issues, though outwardly she presents a mask full of witty retorts and mocking smiles that tends to keep people at a safe distance. Her less outgoing nature seems to mesh well into a good partnership with Rooster, who seems to be nothing but manic energy and a caution-to-the-wind kind of attitude. They keep each other balanced. Gwen is also deeply distrustful of the nobility, with a more than noticeable grudge that rears its head when robbing Lords and Ladies. For those that she does trust however, she presents flickers of her old self, full of soft smiles (if no longer effortless and bright) and quiet kindness. She is not particularly open about her past, and does not care to talk about it.

Equipment

2 flint lock pistols
A plain knife in each boot
A decrotive silve and amber encrusted dagger
A chestnut colored horse with saddle bags

History

Once upon a time, Gwen had a very different outlook on life. The daughter of the Blacksmith and Governess for the Viscount of Wellington, Gwen grew up on a sprawling estate in the countryside of Wifield, and even befriended some of the Viscount’s numerous children, whom she played with as a child. Life there was good and happy, and as Gwen became a teenager, she even assumed a role within the household. George, the Viscount’s fourth son and her childhood playmate, and Gwen were particularly close, sharing stolen kisses now and again out of site in empty rooms or parlors. Gwen was never foolish enough to believe it would lead to anything, but they were both young and inexperienced, and it was fun. And of course George being a fourth son inheriting no title, and was quite possibly looking to go into trade, so if he’d ever called on her she wouldn’t have objected...

Her happy, simple, country life however, was brought to a brutal end the summer of the year she turned sixteen. The MacFarley’s had very little of anything of real value, but the intricately decorative dagger encrusted with silver and polished amber made by Gwen’s grandfather was proudly displayed at her father’s forge. A visiting Duke happened to take a fancy to it one day, and offered to buy it as a pretty trinket. Gwen’s father refused. Unaccustomed to being denied, the Duke’s passing interest became determination to have the dagger. When Gwen’s father refused again, the Duke left angry. That night, a pair of the Duke’s diamond cufflinks went missing, and upon search of the household the next morning, were miraculously found at her father’s forge. Accused by the Duke of stealing, her father was hauled off to prison that very day, and the noble family she he served and trusted her entire life watched idly by, unwilling to endure the wrath of a Duke despite their doubts of her father’s guilt.

The fine leveled against her father was a ridiculous 50 gold guineas, more money than she could ever hope to pay for his release with her wages as a household servant, and after the Viscount and his family’s betrayal, she could no longer live at their estate. It was on the road that she met Rooster, the ridiculously flamboyant highwayman/poet, and he who took her under his wing, showing her the ropes so to speak, to being a gentleman robber. He even gave her the nickname “Fox” due to her appearance, joking that a Rooster and a Fox made quite the pair, though few find Rooster’s jokes as amusing as Rooster. Her father died in prison before she could accumulate the 50 guineas, a terrible loss that still plagues her now, five years later, and with nowhere else to go, Gwen fully embrased the life of a highwayman.

So begins...

Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"'s Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jules Lockwood Character Portrait: Markus O'Cyrus Character Portrait: Brennan of the Grange/Elsbeth Waterton Character Portrait: Braith Alwyn Character Portrait: L. Tresch Character Portrait: Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"
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Common taverns were not an unusual place for Gwen to be seen, in fact, some of the more upscale establishments were some of her best hunting grounds. Many highwaymen shunned the cities in favor of the wooded roads, but Gwen had learned to find opportunity everywhere, and cities had their own advantages, one’s ability to disappear into a crowd chief among them. What was peculiar about this night however, was that Gwen was alone, and she was forced to ponder the events that had led to her being here. The murderous band currently loose on the roads were creating a multitude of problems, and not just for the reputation and viability of the highwaymen, which was honestly the least important. It wasn’t that she didn’t care per say, but Gwen was quite pragmatic, and she’d always seen the decline of the occupation as somewhat inevitable. One can only poke the sleeping bear for so long before it takes a swipe after all, and few had deliberately poked as hard as Rooster and Fox. But then Gwen was adaptable, thieves and con-artists had existed long before the highwaymen, and she was certain her skill set in both could translate well in a less flashy occupation.

No, what was unacceptable was the reaction of the crown, and the innocent blood that had already been spilt. Killing highwaymen was one thing, it was an occupational hazard and a risk they all knowingly took while riding the road, but innocent uninvolved villagers? Some had been little more than children, and the brutality of their murders by the Queen’s Men had a very dark place in Gwen stirring.

This band had to be stopped, there was universal agreement on that front, but the means by which to do so had so far left most camps divided, even for the infamous Rooster and Fox.

“Killing the band won’t stop the Queen’s men from killing us on the road Fox. If they catch the murderers themselves, they’ll take the credit for protecting the public, and if we do it for them, they’ll claim they scared the blackguards out of the country. We can’t win this battle like this m’dear.” Rooster has said in a voice that sounded foreign and sober for the usually flamboyant highwayman.

“I can’t simply sit here and do nothing Rooster. At least if we were to kill the band it would take some wind out of thier sails.” Fox reasoned, though even she knew better than to believe that.

“It won’t be enough. The Queen is playing a high stakes game of chess, and she’d been trapped in a corner by her own pieces. She has no choice by to appease them for the moment.” Rooster replied, and not for the first time Gwen wondered who Rooster, her partner for nearly five years now, really was. He just seemed to know too many things about important people at times, and she didn’t believe the cock and bull story he’d told her about being an out of work bard for a moment. “What do you plan to do then?” Gwen returned, knowing full well she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Incite the pawns.” He replied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “They may be the weakest pieces on the board, but they’re also the most numerous. They’ve already done most the work for me, I just have to fan the sparks of outrage into a flame.”

“With what, your poems? Rooster, they’re only stories, they can’t do anything.” Fox had cried indignantly. Her eccentric partner had always taken part of his year for his unorthodox hobby to write romantic poems about the highwaymen, but this was no time for fancy.

“Stories are everything.” Rooster contradicted. “They shape who we are, what we think, and in the wake of these murders, they present a villain that every common man can hate.” Something in those words had chilled even Gwen, but she couldn’t deny his point, though she was loath to admit that.

“That’s treason and you know it. No publisher in their right mind will risk printing for you, not in Wifield.” Gwen tried to argue, though she was afraid she already knew where this conversation was going.

“That’s why I’m going to the colonies darling. I have a printer lined up already, and even a friend with a ship willing to help with distribution.” Rooster had said in what was meant to be a reassuring tone.

“A pirate?” Gwen had guessed disapprovingly, and Rooster had only laughed.

“He prefers the term opportunist, but yes, I suppose he could be called that. Don’t be so hypocritical darling, we’re all thieves in the end, the same.” Rooster had chided. But Gwen disagreed, they were not even remotely the same thing, and a knot lodged itself deep in her gut at the thought of Rooster trusting one of those murderous backstabbing cutthroats. But she had no way to stop her friend, and that had been two days ago. Since then he had boarded a ship for the colonies, and she was alone in a tavern, waiting to hear news of the plan that the ever business minded Braith was concocting to solve their problem.

She sat alone at her own table, though in clear sight of Braith and his table. She would wait for a signal from the man that it was safe to approach before she showed her hand. There were too many unfriendly eyes on the road of late to be so conspicuous, and she could hardly believe how blatantly some of the others interested in this particular job had approached him. Well they could be as careless as they liked she supposed, but Gwen didn’t fancy the prospect of a noose around her neck, so she’d stay put until Braith, who she’d had minor dealings with in the past, gave the all clear.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jules Lockwood Character Portrait: Markus O'Cyrus Character Portrait: Brennan of the Grange/Elsbeth Waterton Character Portrait: Braith Alwyn Character Portrait: L. Tresch Character Portrait: Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"
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#, as written by varxint
Crooked Bow Tavern and Inn-Kethington, Wifield-Dusk

Braith looked over at the the dark skinned man and watched him with concern as he hunched further into himself. Braith worried for a moment that he called attention there too soon. Yet, with the bounty hunter here, and any others in the tavern who might notice, he thought it best to control the situation immediately. When the man spoke in the affirmative Braith relaxed. Now he could explain the situation and let the others in all at once without worrying that a mistaken identity would spiral out of control.

“Wonderful. It is good to have your ear. I suspect you haven’t been given much choice in how you interact with people over the last few weeks? You have a well known doppelganger that has no doubt complicated your life. I noticed how you are attempting to be unseen though, rather than boldly striding through the tavern, or wearing a disguise of some type. The former would mark you as a bold killer, looking to take advantage of your reputation. The latter, a guilty party, afraid of the hangman’s noose. Rather, you look nervous and resigned. As though you have been run out of many similar places and are starting to accept that you will be constantly mistaken for someone else.”

Braith paused, he knew it would be a challenge for this man to trust a random stranger in a bar. Braith himself would not normally want to run the risk of bringing such a memorable man into this group, yet he also knew that often helpful gestures paid big dividends. With that in mind, Braith took a sympathetic and sincere approach, “I think you might be in need of some assistance. I believe that assistance rendered is always a good investment since it is often paid back heartily, in one way or another. Please, join us.”

Braith then turned back to Brennan and with a quick glance saw that ‘he’ had regained ‘himself’ and the quintessential coolness had returned. Braith nodded and smiled at ‘him’ before following ‘his’ gaze to the bounty hunter, who also indicated interest.

“Ah, of course. All good hunters tend to weigh the value of the hunt versus the risk. Understandable. Come, join us at the table. Your name is not unknown to me. There are not many one-eyed hunters and I make it my business to know who might be involved with my clients. I want to assure you that any bounties you might have thought to have in mind are now worthless. With this law, any time you try to collect you run the risk of the law jumping your claim.”

Braith had heard of such things happening. He didn’t see it as a far step from bounty hunter to highwayman in the eyes of an officer who sees an opportunity to cash a bounty and excuse any other killing. Braith nodded in understanding, “As I’m sure you’ve deduced as well, which is why you are interested in alternatives.”

Braith, noticing Gwen looking over at him now, nodded slightly, “I hope that we’ll all be patient and understanding of everyone’s previous career choices. Black XII, meet Brennan of the Grange and ‘The Fox’, who is approaching the table as we speak.”

Braith stood and swept out a chair for Gwen with a friendly smile. Returning his gaze to the table, but not returning to his chair, “The other two I do not know, yet, but I hope feel welcome to introduce themselves now.”

He continued to stand to draw the attention of the group and keep them focused. He was about to launch into a long explanation of the information he’d gathered, “But I will outline my findings to put your minds at ease that I do, in fact, offer a more valuable target. As we all are aware, the Queen has proposed a law that would make highwaymen or anyone suspected as such, little more than target dummies. This law will pass. There is no way to stop it. The Queen was losing honour and money as her fleet of ships was badgered by pirates in the new world. She demanded assistance and was able to raise enough to build an effective response.”

Braith drew a breath, “This approach worked well enough, but it ignored any activity here. This left all the nobles paying for far away ships and watching their money being stolen from them by robbers and highwaymen in their own lands. This murder seems to have galvanized the nobles and they have been putting pressure on the Queen to do something. The wheels are set in motion. There is no turning back. The Queen cannot back down now or she could very well set off a rebellion amongst her court.”

Having explained the politics of where they were Braith knew he now needed to convince the group that there was something worth fighting for. That maybe this group had a chance to make a name for itself in a different way than they were used to.

With his typical appraising gaze he glanced around the table, ensuring everyone was still following and interested in his upcoming proposal, “Yet, we may still be able to influence the direction of the wheel as it moves. There are intimations that this murder was not by chance. That it was manufactured by some who might be less concerned about law and order and more concerned about their own standing in court. What better way to improve one’s standing than by removing one’s rivals? And then being the ‘hero’ that cleaned up the highways and made it safe to travel again? Safe, that is, for those who are on the list. The threat is no longer the lone criminal, trying to find money to live. No, now the threat is the supposed solution. Having control of the forces who ‘protect’ the roads means that those who don’t ‘earn’ protection favour are now easy targets without any recourse since it was ‘justice’ who robs them.”

Braith paused for a breath. This rant had been building in him since he saw the means by which this law as being enforced. Of course, he knew he would be able to find favour in the new system if he toed the line and made the right friends, but he felt their methods were distasteful. At least the clients he typically did business with were honourable, in their way. Yes, they robbed people, but they were not in the business of threatening children, killing innocents and abusing authority in order to build on an already large fortune.

“We could work to expose the source of this corruption. The resources we have at this table could change how this law is enforced. It could help weed out those who were only looking to grow their own coffers rather than bringing actual justice to the land. Bounties are a thing of the past. Robbing nobles is now a good way to be shot dead. This will be the way things are unless someone steps up and finds the information that helps real justice to be enforced.”

Finished, Braith returned to his chair and waited for their thoughts.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jules Lockwood Character Portrait: Markus O'Cyrus Character Portrait: Brennan of the Grange/Elsbeth Waterton Character Portrait: Braith Alwyn Character Portrait: L. Tresch Character Portrait: Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"
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Gwen approached the table full of bandits once Braith waved her over, and settled herself into the offered seat. She returned Braith’s smile with an acknowledging nod, knowing Braith wouldn’t be offended by her lack of warmth. She’s worked with the cunning man before, and few likely better understood her need to wear a mask to disguise one's emotions better than he did. Listening to Braith’s debriefing of the situation, Gwen took the opportunity to more closely examine the group that had gathered. Brennan she knew, and Braith obviously as well, but the rest were strangers to her, nor did they strike her as especially impressive. That of course could also be a clever act designed to disarm their victims, so there really was no telling for sure. Still, she’d have felt a lot more confident about this little mission if Jack were here


“Agreed, something must be done about the matter, but how are we to expose them? We have no way to know which nobles and officers are in on the take without someone in their circle to give us information. Do you have an informant?” Gwen asked, trying to keep her voice neutral and productive despite the simmering anger the burned just below the surface. Whatever it took, she was going to put a stop to this conspiracy. These nobles were going to learn that they couldn’t harass and terrorize the people of this country for profit any longer.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jules Lockwood Character Portrait: James Viteri Character Portrait: Charles VanFleet Character Portrait: Brennan of the Grange/Elsbeth Waterton Character Portrait: Braith Alwyn Character Portrait: Gwendolyn MacFarley "Fox"
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Crooked Bow Inn and Tavern-Kethington. Wifield-Dusk

Brennan’s blue eyes watched the group, trying desperately to read each of the individuals Elsbeth had none of Braith’s abilities when it came to measuring people, knowing how to talk to them or win them over. Inside the heavy coat she was sweating and muscles were tense.

Eyes were focused on the dark skinned man for a moment. He seemed keen to listen though Elsbeth still couldn’t fathom how this couldn’t be the man she thought he was. Braith knew something she didn’t. Doppelganger The word caught her attention. Could there really be two of them? Two men who are so similar in appearance yet one helped cause this upheaval and another is just an innocent?

Elsbeth felt her cheeks blush as Braith smiled at her. She felt foolish for having been so close to losing her cool but this law was going to change everything. She was grateful that the man knew her so well and was so good at reading people. Braith had given her the chance to calm down.

Brennan’s eyes followed Braith to the bounty hunter. Lip curled in distaste for a man who made his living hunting down highwaymen. Braith had a point however, this law meant a death to bounty hunters. When the Queen’s men could simply shoot people down in the road there was no need to pay large sums to these men. Money not paid out for criminals meant more in the coffers of the court.

A familiar form moved through the crowd and took a seat at the table. Fox had ridden with Brennan on a job with the Hunt brothers though they were not close. Brennan never let anyone get too close as too much familiarity made it hard to hide secrets.

Eyes flashed back to the bounty hunter as Braith made introductions. Elsbeth knew of Black XII, knew he had it out for Brennan as he had managed to elude the hunter on a few occassions. It was something that Brennan did well. Appear from nowhere and disappear just the same. A mixture of anger and fear stirred in Elsbeth stomach. Will Black honour a truce here and now in an effort to focus on the greater trouble at hand?

Something about the stance of the man beside her made Elsbeth turn away from her scrutiny of the bounty hunter. To those watching Brennan simply turned his head and his attention away but inside Elsbeth was on edge. Hands clenched on the table’s surface as Braith talked of the new law and how it was certain to pass.

Even she knew that rebellion in the Queen’s court, the loss of favour of the Lords and her backers would do more harm to the people than anyone. They needed the Queen even if at times she seemed simply a puppet.

Brennan leaned forward as Braith talked of the murder and how it might not have been a random encounter. A set up to bring in the law or is there more? It angered her more to think that people had been killed purely for someone else’s gain.

Her eyes fell on Braith. He was taking a much needed breath. Elsbeth wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him so worked up but it seemed that perhaps there was more going on than some lords wanting a law passed. Law, rival gone, control over those serving the Queen’s justice. It was almost too perfect and all it would take was a few of the lords in the court to band together and then they would control it all.

Elsbeth’s stomach churned. She was both sickened by her fellow man and angry by them. She looked around at the table This group...do we really think we can do anything to stop this? What can we do against a bunch of rich lords who control everything?

Blue eyes blinked slowly at Braith as he posed to the group how he thought they could best address the issue. Expose the corruption? Justice? The robber turned officer?

A gloved hand tapped the table and the body sat back in the chair. Elsbeth was very close to laughing. Me, expose corruption? Me? A woman dressed as a man and playing robber in the dark? Is he mad?

One look at Braith and she could tell that not only was he very serious but he honestly believed this...group could do it. Elsbeth took in the others. Is it possible? Brows furrowed above the cold blue orbs as she tried to work out if this was a sound method or insanity sure to get them killed.

Fox’s voice addressed Braith first. The rest at the table seemed as quiet as Brennan though for entirely different reasons.

A sound question though Elsbeth figured Braith had numerous connections. The man knew things and if he was saying there was corruption than he had an in already. Elsbeth was more trying to figure out exactly ‘how’ Brennan or Fox or any of them might be of use to Braith. If he knew so much than what use were they to him?

Braith smiled wider as Gwen sat and nodded. He expected this initial mistrust and bristling with new people around. Yet, in order to accomplish their lofty goal they had to find out who they could trust and quickly. With a friendly tone Braith addressed Gwen, “My dear Fox, I would not be able to provide such useful information if I did not have connections. I make it a point to surround myself with capable people. My talents are in finding those people.”

He then look over at the drumming fingers of Brennan. Raising his gaze to ‘his’ face he saw the consternation and doubt. He looked around the table and saw a similar expression. The unspoken question of, ‘Why us? What can we possibly do?’

Braith looked down at his hands and drew in a breath, “What we are up against isn’t a common mark. This is not some spoiled, rich noble who will give up on first sight of our pistols or swords. This is an opponent that has made a habit of using others to maintain power. We would be but bugs under their heel if we tried to oppose them individually. However, what they will not expect is a group of resourceful individuals gathering their talents. Organizing them and using them to the best of their abilities in a concerted attempt, not to rob them, but to expose them for what they are. They call us criminals. Who better than a criminal to expose a snake?”

Brennan’s head tilted as Braith answered the unasked question. Once again Braith’s ability to read a person amazed Brennan. There was still some doubt. Expose them without exposing my true identity. A gloved hand came up towards a cheek but Elsbeth stopped, hand mid air. The gesture was one women made when concerned or thinking, not a hardened highwayman. With a deep inhale Elsbeth steadied herself.

The hand gestured to Braith to continue. Brennan nodded, conceding that there might be something there. Eyes locked with Braith’s. And start where? What do we do first? The gaze questioned him.

Braith noticed Brennan’s gesture, a twitch of an amused grin as she corrected her movements. He caught her gaze and paused, reading the thoughts in those expressive eyes of hers, “Then, what is it we should put our efforts toward? I suggest we put our efforts toward finding and questioning one of the party of murderers. I happen to know of someone who can point us to the last known location of a member of said party. As you can see, I am a source of information, but not one of physical intimidation. I don’t expect to be able to charm a murderer into confession. However, you all have abilities that will help us track, chase and convince this person to tell us what they know. Interested?”

Brennan looked at the table, eyes hard. Elsbeth didn’t care about the rest right at this moment. Under the scarf she licked her dry lips. Intimidating was something that Brennan was known for, reputation speaking when he himself never did.

Is this the only way? Elsbeth thought it over but the decision didn’t take long. Anger was not the answer, hunting them down and turning them in would get nowhere. Expose them. It is all we can do.

She met Braith’s eyes again and nodded curtly. The eyes flickered quickly to the rest. Set the time and place.

Braith saw the acceptance in Brennan’s eyes, “If you are interested, let us meet in the morning. It is late. Get rest. We take on the world. Sleep will help.” He chuckled and sat back in his chair, more relaxed than he felt but he needed to inspire confidence in this group of outcasts.

With that the meeting broke up. Brennan stood, a nod to both Fox and Braith and made his way upstairs. The door to the room was unlocked. Brennan entered and closed the door behind him.

Securing the lock, Elsbeth leaned against the door. “Can this actually work?” The question was posed to the dark. Feet moved quickly to the window. Elsbeth looked out. Seeing no one, she opened it and made the short drop to the ground. She couldn’t risk actually staying in the inn. Braith had talked to one bounty hunter but that didn’t mean there might not have been others to see Brennan there. It did not mean that others might not try one last attempt to collect the bounty on Brennan’s head before the new law made them extinct.

Taking to the shadows Elsbeth ran into the woods. She had a pack hidden away a short distance from the inn. Once she changed some of her clothes no one would assume she was Brennan. No one would assume a young woman was a wanted highwayman.

Her eyes adjusted to the dark and it wasn’t long before she found her hidden pack and got a small fire going. Her coat was laid out on the ground, hat tucked away and finally Elsbeth sat in an oversized shirt and tight fitting leggings by the fire. Her hair was loose as she ran her fingers through it. The disguise had been hot in the inn and she took great deep breathes of the chill night air.

She stared into the fire and thought about what Braith had said, the others at the table and what the future might bring.

Morning came and Brennan sat the table in the inn again. For any who noticed there were slight circles under the highwayman’s eyes. Elsbeth had been up most of the night thinking. Now she sat and waited to see who else would join.

---------

Green Lanes-Dunfen, Wifeld-Dusk

The air was crisp this night. The men were waiting just inside the tree line. O’Grady assured them that a small group would be coming down this road tonight. He had overheard the itinerary of some travellers in a tavern. By their look and heavy purses he figured there should be a decent cut for all involved.

So they waited. As the moon rose the sound of horse hooves could be heard.

O’Grady adjusted his hat, choked up on his reins and nodded. “Keep an eye boys, they are coming.”

As the three riders, well dressed men on well groomed horses, passed them by the band jumped out. The travellers stopped, startled by the ambush.

“Alright then, we’ll be taking your coin now.”

Pistols were raised, fingers on the triggers. Voices were raised.

Not far down the road the group of six Queen’s men were riding. One, a young man, turned his horse and rode back towards his captain and the justice.

“Sir, we have noises on the road ahead of us. Sounds of fighting. Orders?”