In our world, there are many tales of woe. How many among us face loss, or heartache, or even the death of the innocent? Indeed, our world can be a dangerous and cruel place, spinning cruel fates among the populace.. but every now and again, there is a tale that is different. A tale of goodness, of strength, of virtue, and perhaps most importantly: Hope. The story of Branwen is just such a tale.

When was she born? Nobody really knows for certain, but her life began tragically, as her mother died while Branwen was still wearing diapers. Paternally, Branwen was also lacking, as her father was away at the time of his wife's death. Afterward, he never returned. Branwen the infant was helpless and alone, but the virtues smiled upon her, and she came to be cared for by her Aunt and Uncle who lived nearby.

Now, readers, know you that even to this day we know not what happened to her father, nor if her Aunt and Uncle were truly kin to her parents. In the end it matters not, for those who came to care for her were merchants running an honest and profitable business. The couple was unable to concieve of their own children, and so Branwen to them was as a gift. They poured out on her all their love, affection, and attention.. never has there been a child so cherished.

And so the seasons passed. Branwen grew from an infant, to a toddler, to a child. Those around her were amazed by her energetic attitude and general well-behavedness. She made herself helpful around the shop, and talked to anyone who would listen. She cared for everyone with compassion, and shared what she had to whoever needed it. She was rarely if ever sick or tired. She made the old feel youthful just by her prescence.

One summer day a man visited the shop. He was tall and handsome with a kind manner and a clever grin. Just like that, Branwen developed her first crush. His name was Stratun, and he was all Branwen thought about.. though she were barely ten and the man was an adult. Such is the fancy of youth. Stratun was an accomplished tinker, specializing in the crafting of fine musical instruments. In particular, his Lutes were considered as a rival in quality to that of Iolo himself! He bid for shelf space in the family store, and gave Branwen one of his lutes as a gesture to her Aunt and Uncle.

With his contract secure, Stratun would return twice a year bearing new inventory. As little girls are want to do, Branwen spent her time wistfully daydreaming of him, and practicing with her prized lute. She would take walks in the countryside, strumming and singing. The locals came to know her as the musical child. Her countenance combined with her ever-improving skill made her quite a draw. Such was her skill that even animals would follow her around and even protect her, should a more dangerous animal threaten.

As always, Branwen helped her Aunt and Uncle in the shop. More time passed, and Branwen's crush on Stratun was slowly replaced with a love for music. As she grew from child into young woman, her caretakers were amazed at what a joy she had become in their lives. She always wore a smile.. all the more enhanced by her perfect teeth. Her skin was without blemish. Her hair, silky and soft.. and as she aged, she began to attract a great deal of attention with her voluptuousness. Particularly the interests of the boy next door, Thomas.

Thomas and Branwen had been acquainted for years. Thomas' parents also ran a shop, and were competing with Branwen and her Aunt and Uncle. They really didn't interact all that much because of the rivalry, but as they aged Thomas couldn't help but be entranced by the beauty of both sight and sound. He frequented Branwen's family store every night she would play. He would buy her roses, and flowers of every variety. He filled his mind with fantasies of her, and became obsessed. Branwen did not feel the same way, she liked Thomas, she thought of him as a friend. She cared about him, as was her way with everyone. He was so persistant that eventually, she agreed to visit the Moonglow Zoo with him.

Thomas counted the days. He counted the minutes and hours until their meeting. Then, the moment passed. She had not come.

As Thomas set out to do what he thought he must, Branwen sought him at the zoo. She had bought a special dress just for the occasion and hoped that Thomas wouldn't notice the mud stain that she had meticulously cleaned off.. but he was nowhere to be found. She waited for him for some time, but he never came. It was after sundown now. Curious, she set off to his house to see if he had fallen ill, or perhaps his parents had learned of their meeting and forbade it.

But neither circumstance was the case.

A fire on the horizon! She increased her stride and in her haste tripped and ripped her new dress. Disheveled and dirty, she pressed on, the fire was coming from home! Rain began to stream from the sky, as if in response to the black clouds of smoke.

She burst through the door of the shop, and found her aunt lying on the floor. Nearby, there was a charred corpse holding up the flaming cinders of one of the roof beams. The corpse of her uncle, his body consumed, the remains of his face contorted in pain. Through tears, she grabbed her Aunt by the leg and dragged her out into the soggy lawn. Branwen collapsed to her knees and cried. Her tears combined with the rain, and as she remembered the visage of her uncle, she began to wretch. She couldn't find the strength to do anything further.

A voice, from nearby: "Now that you don't have any distractions, we can finally be together! Your Aunt and Uncle won't keep us apart any more, and you can see that I'm the only one that really loves you."

Branwen gathered the strength to look up at him. He was still carrying the torch. On his face, a smile. It was then that something welled up inside Branwen, a feeling she had never felt before. It was dark, and thick, and oily this feeling. It came directly from her guts. It gave her strength and she slowly stood, facing Thomas, her eyes full of rage. The feeling within her cried out, "revenge!"

She pulled her lute from its place on her back and began to play a song she had never played before, a song of discord. She focussed all her rage on Thomas as she played. She approached him step by step. She was soaked through to the bone, her tattered clothes draped, laden with water against her body. Her hair was matted and dirty, her new dress encrusted with mud and vomit, her face wore a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. Thomas backpedalled, he slipped and fell on his rear, and continued to back away, rightfully terrified. In the distance, wolves howled.

She didn't look away when they pounced upon him, growling. She savored every moment of it and continued to play her discordant song. The wolves gnawed at his limbs, detaching his fingers, and spilling his blood. They chewed at the tender flesh of his neck as he screamed out in gurgled agony. Just then, an explosion from the upper floor of the once-proud shop. The potion kegs had gone up, the wolves scurried. She put away her lute and approached the mangled flesh that had once been Thomas. It still held but an ember of life.

She reached out and took the nearby sledgehammer. Awkwardly she wielded it with both hands and slammed it into his face. She repeated the process, not just to his head, but about his torso and particularly the area between his legs. She pounded with the hammer until she was covered in his blood, until the remains of his broken flesh were pushed down into the soggy earth he had been laying on. Exhausted, she dropped the sledgehammer and collapsed into a heap, and fell unconscious.

Dear readers, fret not! Remember, Branwen's story is one of hope! Her story does not end here. They say that Branwen is blessed among women, but how can this be?

That very night, the night that both Thomas and Branwen had committed their atrocities, Stratun was to deliver his next shipment of instruments. Stratun was not alone, however, this day he brought with him Iolo the Bard and Gwenno, Iolo's wife. They saw the fire in the distance, just as Branwen had and hurried to the scene. When they arrived, the shop was little but smouldering char. Stratun rushed to the side of his old friend, Branwen's aunt. It was Gwenno who noticed Branwen. Iolo banged on the door of the neighboring shop, but got no reply. When he kicked the door in, he discovered 2 more bodies, the bodies of Thomas' parents, though he did not know it.

It was seemingly easy to deduce what had happened. There were 4 people dead, and a woman covered in blood. What kind of terrible monster could do all these things?

Dawn began to come, and with it the rains subsided. Iolo and Stratun dug graves and buried the bodies, but the remains of Thomas were a more difficult matter. In the end, they were merely covered with dirt. Gwenno tended to the injured aunt and niece, but only after she agreed to Iolo's request to tie up the unconscious women.

Branwen was plagued by repeating dark nightmares.. nightmares that were more memory than any conjured fiction. It all came rushing back to her like a flood and she awoke. She felt helpess and trapped. As if she were pinned. She struggled against her restraints, panicking, quivering. Gwenno, seeing her distress attempted to comfort her.

"Here, drink this," Gwenno approached with a cup of water. She untied one of Branwen's hands and let her sip at the cup. "When thou'rt ready, please tell me what hast happened." Branwen didn't want to relive the horrible night yet again, so instead she just lay, sobbing and melancholy. Stratun called Gwenno into the adjacent room and when they were sure they could not be overheard, they began to discuss what had happened.

"We finished with the bodies, but the boy.. we couldn't figure out a way to move him, so we just covered him over." Gwenno bore a look of disgust. "Wither hast my husband gone?" Stratun made doubly sure to lower his voice, "He went into the city, he will be back shortly with the guard." he sighed. "I've known Branwen since she was a child, I never thought she was capable of murder, let alone the brutality which befell that boy."

Stratun stood, intending to check on the captives, but was greeted by a lute smashing him square on the jaw. He staggered backward, tripped over a stool and fell down the stairs. Gwenno was too shocked to move as Branwen shot past her, down the stairs, over the still body of Stratun and out the door. She ran as fast as she could through the wilderness trying to escape not the guards, but her own memories. The kind girl who had grown up in a humble shop was eclipsed by the girl who had been driven into a rage and murdered her childhood friend.

She found herself running along the coast, where a ship lay anchored some distance away. There was a small rowboat near, and two swarthy looking men hauling a crate of food toward it. She had run up close to them by the time she noticed they were there.

"Arr, well what do we have here?" the grizzled man scratched out in his gravelled voice. "Young, fresh, supple meat looks like!" his companion. Though there were only 2 of them, they surrounded her menacingly, circling. "I've got first dibs, she's mine," the grizzled one. In the distance, the clank of the guards armor. "Thou wilt regret thine actions, swine!" they could be heard to shout.

The pirates instinctively dropped their cargo and made for the rowboat. Branwen couldn't think of any other options, so she followed them. "Wait! Take me with you!" almost instantly regretting it. "Sorry lass, we gotta leave flank! We get to moving, else get to dyin. Yer on yer own!"

Annoyed, she pulled down the front of her matted dress briefly.

The pirates froze in their tracks.

"Arrr, alright, come on then, and be quick about it." The grizzled man relented. She pushed the rowboat off the beach and hopped aboard, the two pirates rowing with all their might.

Branwen found herself in a world of thievery, deception, and greed. While she didn't have to provide "comfort" to the pirate crew, Captain Malagris was a different matter entirely. He was the most well known pirate of his day, often because he was more of a trickster than anything else. Fortunately, Branwen found that he had a penchant for Grog, and that he easily drunk until he couldn't remember the previous night. She had him convinced that each night they engaged in the throes of passion, but in reality she rarely had to even bear her skin. Still, he didn't trust her and she was not allowed to leave his quarters.

Captain Malagris latest target was a Royal Navy ship carrying a group of gypsies from Moonglow to Trinsic. Malagris had "arranged" for some poisoned stores to be put aboard the Navy ship. The Captain waited until the crew of the ill fated vessel had taken a few meals, and then set sail to intercept the vessel. The plan worked, except one man had not eaten the poison. The man was standing on the deck and he could be heard to shout "C'mon! Do your worst you scalliwags!"

They tried shooting arrows at him. He blocked them with his shield. They tried a spear, but he just cut in in-half with his sword.. in mid air! The pirates finally brought the ships together and boarded it in a mass wave, all except for Branwen. The man on the deck chewed his way through the pirates, either slaying them outright, or tossing them overboard. When the only one left was Malagris, they duelled. They appeared to be an equal match.

While the battle raged, Branwen snuck aboard the Navy ship, and lay down, pretending to be an afflicted passenger. The lone deckman managed to drive Malagris off the Naval ship, and Malagris set sail in retreat, deciding it not worth the effort. The deckman went around trying to cure the crew, though he were no mage. Some of the crews poison was cured, others were not so lucky.

As it turns out, the deckman's efforts were in vain, as the ship drifted into Brittany Bay, hit a shoal and began to sink. Once again, the virtues smiled. The deckman could only carry two people.. one under each arm. He grabbed a Gypsy boy and Branwen and without hesitation jumped into the sea and swam to shore carrying the both of them. He deposited them into the beach and returned to the sea, presumably to rescue more passengers. When he returned, Branwen was gone.

She made herself a hermit. She dared not go into the cities lest she be recognized. She stayed in the forests, wandering Britannia. She found an old rusty axe and used it to fashion a stave for walking. She would also use it to get kindling for fires, and to build shelters. She killed the animals that used to follow her around a lifetime ago. Inside, she was consumed with the guilt of what she had done. The memories haunted her. She had no real goal but to survive anymore, so she began to explore the forests. From time to time she would take shelter in a old ruin, and over the years her constitution, skill, and strength grew. She fashioned clothing from the furs of animals.

As she wandered the great forest, she came upon a large crypt. Ventirung inside, she hoped to find something useful in the graves within. Instead she found only wraiths and skeletons. A few wrong turns, and soon found herself surrounded. She fought as best she could, but she was being pushed against the wall. It was only a matter of time now. She came to believe that this was the result of her crime. That finally, she wouldn't have to live with the guilt any longer. She began to fight less and less, and became overwhelmed. She fell to the floor, the undead clawing to get at her. Then again, virtue smiled on Branwen.

"AUGUS LUMINOS!" a voice rang out, but Branwen's ears barely heard it. She thought she heard other words too, but didn't care. Her spirit began slip from her flesh. Finally, she would have rest. All was still, black and silent.

"DIUM PROSTRA!" That same voice, calling her back, she sat up with a gasp or air, her eyes focussed in the darkness. A man. Long red hair, kind face. Who's he? "Are you alright, miss?"

Branwen nodded, lightheaded. The man bandaged her wounds. His hands were gentle, and while he didn't smile, he looked contented. "You know, miss, we really shouldn't tarry here. The undead will be back.. You can't really kill them. You know, since they're already dead." What an odd way of speaking. "Names Alec DeLeon, by the way, nice to meet you! Can you walk?" He helped her stand. "I'm Branwen" she said distantly. He pulled a crystal from his pack, when he spoke into it, it turned red "Kayne, Angharad, better get down here, we've got wounded!"

"KO, Commissioner" a male voice. "KO, boss" a female.

Branwen discovered that she had been rescued by the Royal Britannian Kilted Police. She was dubious at first, after all.. what if they were looking for her, what if they knew about her crime? Would they turn her in? She tried several times to escape in the night, but there always seemed to be someone within earshot of her. She had little to do but lay in the cot that was provided to her and recuperate.

One evening, as the fireplace crackled, Alec DeLeon entered her room. He sat a tray upon her table. "Here, I brought you some food. I know it's not that fancy, but.." She was already digging into the meal. "My, you're the hungry sort. Aren't you?" He sat down next to her. "How long have you been on your own?" She continued to inhale the warm meal. He continued to study her as she ate.

"You're the musical child of Moonglow aren't you?"

She stopped. "Or.. rather, you were once, weren't you?" He continued.

She was trapped! He knew! There must be some way out.. the door! She bolted upright, intending to make for the door, but found she couldn't. He had grabbed ahold of her forearm firmly.

"It's okay, don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. Actually, I healed you. You know, I don't usually hang around in Crypts for just anybody." She sat down, slowly, eyeing him distrustfully. He released her arm.

"Your aunt is still alive." Memories of a lifetime ago began to flood back. "After you left Moonglow, your Aunt told Iolo everything she saw and heard. She told Iolo about what happened before you arrived. What that boy, Thomas said to she and your Uncle." she sat silently, lost in the memories of that day.

"Well, did you think there was just a sledgehammer lying around for no reason? He was going to use it on you! That is, after he first raped you. It was only due to your efforts that you turned his own plan back on him!"

With that she erupted, wretching her recently devoured meal all over him. He patted her on the back "It's okay, get it all out, be whole again, Branwen." As he held her close, she began to weep. They stayed like that for some time, until finally she opened up. She told him about that day, about her new dress she had bought, about the fire, about her Uncle, about the evil rage that had built up inside her. As she confessed every excruciating detail, her burden was lifted, and when she was finished she almost felt like the shadow of the happy girl she was so long ago.

"Here, get some rest. You've had a big day. I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. Oh, and.. you might want to read this." He placed a scroll on the table. "If you need anything, there's a Constable right outside, just ask," and with that he exited. She sat for a bit, and eventually opened the scroll and read it:

To Commissioner Alec DeLeon, RBKP

His Majesty, Lord British, doth require you to locate Branwen of Moonglow, also known as the "musical child of Moonglow". Branwen was accused of murder, and believes herself wanted. However, new evidence hath come to the attention of the Crown that she is indeed innocent. As such, any sentence that would have been imposed is commuted. At the behest of Iolo the Bard, you are to track and detain her, and inform her of this new evidence.

I know it's unusual to track someone who isn't a criminal, but Iolo has His Majesty's ear and this is a special case. Good luck, Alec.

- Marquis Alazraham of Lionel

Dumbfounded, she sat on her warm cot, and eventually lay down to sleep. She slumbered peacefully for the first time in ages, dreaming of running through the forest as a child, singing and playing. Oh, what it would be like to reverse time and return to those days!

The Kilted Police were friendly enough, she didn't have the money for a ship back to Moonglow, and she didn't feel like seducing pirates again. She spent her days helping around the police headquarters. Cleaning, taking down notes, organizing the cabinets, and occasionally cooking. It was a simple life that she was contented with, so distanced from the horror that she had lived through for so many years.

"I got you a present!" It was Alec again, holding something mischeviously behind his back with a grin. "Can you guess what it is?"

"Um.. is it my fist to your belly?" she smirked. She liked bantering with the Kilted Policeman, especially now that she was almost fully recovered.

"Well, no, but luckily for you it's even better!" He produced a large gift-wrapped box. "Besides, you'd just hurt your hand on my manly abdominal muscles. Go on! Open it!" He shoved it brazenly into her face.

She ripped the wrapping paper aside and opened the box. Inside was a fine cloth, a beautiful dark green color. She grasped it out of the box. It wasn't just cloth, it was a dress, it was.. it was just like the one she ruined that night. "Now you can pick up right where you left off.. well, as close as possible anyway." she stared the dress for a moment. "Okay, so maybe I wanted to see you in the dress too. Just a little bit." Also in the box was a Lute, it was pure white and bore the mark of Iolo the Bard.

She put her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Thank you so much, for everything you've done." It was then that she realized that she loved him. She kissed him squarely on the mouth. It was the only time she'd seen him look shocked, so she took advantage of the situation. "Got yer hat!" She snapped it off his head and ran out of the room, dress in tow.

"I knew I should have bought the one with the chinstrap." He confessed to himself. Then, he joined the pursuit.

Readers, heed well my words. Each of us have times of darkness and woe. Everyone sometimes falls in the mud, but remember to walk the path of virtue. So long as there is life, there is hope. Even when you can't feel it, it's there.. and whenever you feel yourself in a deep dark place, think of Branwen's story and be heartened.