Grenshaw used to be a vibrant town, bursting with life and merchants and children splashing about elaborate marble fountains. In the last few years the town residents had kept mostly to their own yards and held their children on shorter leashes.
Three years ago evil at it's fullest had been unleashed on the town. Many lives were taken. The streets were stained with blood of the fallen for months afterwards. Merchants retreated to different towns. Many citizens and business owners just up and left. Grenshaw had grown quiet and so had it's savior, the Iron Viking.
The Viking had become a creature of habit clinging to a deadly reputation. Everything was black and white to her now. There was life and there was death. There was justice to be brought upon those who wrongly claimed lives. Rayna was to bring them to death. She thought of herself as a grim reaper type, more so lately. A kill was a kill, and it was money for her crew and a penance to be paid to the innocent.
Rayna paced the overgrown gardens surrounding the court house. Every morning the local authorities posted flyers of wanted men. It was routine for her to play the part of the grieving widow, pacing about the gardens in a black cloak that shielded her face from the public. Usually she would grab all the wanted flyers and distribute them amongst her crew, but she wanted a solo mission. She knew everybody tip toed around her these days and even looked at her differently. She forced herself to engage in small talk and spar with her crew members, but it wasn't enough. She felt broken.
Usually the hunts were easy and the rewards low, but it was her consistency and hastiness that kept food on her table and a roof over her head, even if that roof was only a temporary haven.
When the coast was clear Rayna marched up the stairs to the court house. An array of flyers were posted on the outer wall. She studied the wanted posters and decided she wouldn't be able to pick just one. She wanted all of these men dead. She closed her eyes and grabbed a poster from the wall at random.
She waited until she was completely concealed in the forest to read it. The face of a man was perhaps the worst sketch she had seen yet. It was all too vague. His features were too common. Rayna's eyes slid past the summary of the man's felonies and down towards the bottom where the cash reward was listed. Her jaw dropped. The trail on the hit man had grown cold, which meant the reward was high. It'd take an extensive background check and further research. Rayna knew she couldn't go into this blindly lest she wanted to be another statistic and another body for Robert Dawson to put in the ground .