It's always Sunny in Ring 99

[Poolson]

Sunwela Alvarez. Chaotic Neutral Half-Orc Barbarian, level 9. Deity: Kossuth.
Strength: 20. Dexterity: 14. Constitution: 12. Intelligence: 10. Wisdom: 10. Charisma: 10.
Furor totem: Berserker rage.
Feats: Weapon Focus: Greataxe (level 1). Power Attack (level 3). Blindfight (level 6). Improved Criticals: Greataxe (level 9).

Sunwela Alvarez's story was one about the wrong path.

Originally, I thought she'd just be a mess-around character. I didn't want to commit to factions, or do anything that'd take me away from how I enjoyed EFU: leisurely and only during a month or so at a time. "But just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in...."

Exploring the mafia as a character with a consciousness was fun, albeit singular in theme. I enjoyed Sunwela for what she was.

I also suck at taking screenshots, so if anyone who cared had some they wanted to share, by all means, throw them in.

[hide=Sunwela's Story.]

A stranger in a strange land, with much of her past lost to her, Sunwela was a confused and lonesome beast, taken out of its environment and expected to thrive. With the scowls of merchants in the Square, the hatred of the Peerage Ward, who- upon first contact- threatened death if she didn't leave the Ward immediately and the Pondsfolk who wallowed in misery, there was no future for someone who simply wished to exist in peace. But, as she had come to loathe her new home, she met people that would renew her luck- Verata Bosque and Clovis Knotwise. They were friends. Stiff friends, sometimes a little withholding in their personality, but genuine enough for her to call them friends. At least, so she believed.

In her haste to embrace them like kin, she was blinded by the inner nature that defined them. She handwaved them at first, chalking them up as just thugs and bullies trying to live in a dog-eat-dog world. How could she hold it against them, when her own way of life was much of the same? There was always that wriggling, tiny little voice of doubt from the back of her head, but it wasn't loud enough that it couldn't be quelled.

Robbing people? They had it coming, probably. The Peerage Ward was full of assholes, they had surely done something to wrong the Butchers to warrant it.

Roughing people up? It was us or them, she figured, and they get to live afterwords. It was a messed up situation, but it wasn't crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

It was only a matter of time before that voice became a little louder. When Ciriaco and Adrian engaged Verata and Santiago, Sunwela charged into the fray to bring the battle to a stop. The street-fight swiftly escalated to a kidnapping, as once the dust settled, Verata nabbed the Inquisitor that laid at her feet off of the street. She knew something was wrong, yet was frozen with inaction and numbed in the mind from conflict. Just when the boiling point neared, she was calmed by Solomon's clemency for Ciriaco, given to him out of respect for the loss of his wife, and, if for no other reason, to make him swear on his charge as Inquisitor to stop them from targeting the Butchers. She wasn't dealing with a monster, or so she believed.

Going forward, she felt... well, not at ease, but not conflicted with herself. Fighting was a staple of Butcher work and a rule of nature in the ringed city, roughing someone up was something she was always shy of doing, but she ultimately quelled her worries by one thing she considered to be fact; things would get worse if she did nothing.

She was a mother hen to those who served as her new family. She wasn't good with words and the people she'd come to oppose weren't always so interested in what she had to say, but she was good enough at fighting to stave off any would-be bullies.

Clovis was a man set in his convictions and was spurred by the righteous of society for it. While she didn't share his outlook on life, he was upstanding enough to protect the life and virtues he lead.

Verata, on the other hand, was a person she was far more sympathetic to. She was cursed with a similar affliction, though perhaps she had it worse. She was a halfblood, with devil blood coursing through her veins. The hellish existence of being an orcblood was torture enough, she couldn't picture it with horns and hooves. Between the Peerage Ward who had a fetching price for her horns and the Arbiter hit squads who had the mission to exterminate anything of planar blood,  Sunwela's aversion to violence was cast aside. She saw much of herself in Verata, and would protect her with her life.

This lead to a few luxuries afforded to them, and even opened the door that lead Sunwela into joining the Butchers, despite her protests. It seemed easy enough for her to get out and the reward seemed too great to turn down. She had earlier lost her leg to a planar horror known as The Feast in exchange for a golden lightning crown, and all she had to do to be made whole was win two matches in the Ticker Square Tournament.

Naive she was, to think leaving the mob would be so easy.

She'll leave the Butchers after she wins her matches, she thought.

She'll leave the Butchers after they secure the vote with Oscar, she thought.

She'll leave the Butchers after the vote with Webber was secured. A task that made her gut twist into a pretzel by how sickened she was whilst collecting the gold to pay it off, but the way out of the Butchers was still open and easy to take, she thought.

It was a toolbox fallacy that kept her from parting.

As life went on at the same time, their family grew. First came Marenus Walters, then Alexander Tallstag, then Shevarrn the scout, followed by Doc Diego and Nantuckus the brewer. While she never got too close to them as she did with Clovis and Verata, she had a certain fondness for Tallstag that was never meant to be. The Butcher life had no room for settling into the simple life outside of the shop and to look soft would get them cut short. It was ended before it started, then it was back to the brutal work, and the work would grow ever harder from there on. Rivalries rose and died out, but one that was the beginning of the end was the spat between Tallstag and Lyon- a rivalry between one man she considered a friend and another that she thought well enough of. It was a rivalry that would rob each other of wealth and potions, and even threaten one of them with death, were things not quelled. Perhaps there was a chance for peace, at first. Words seemed to have an effect, agreements were made and the violent maelstrom that churned out such a wide fallout began to shrink. That is, all before the end of the Ticker Square contract bid. When the Stonebuilders were disarmed and lowered to sellswords, Lyon sought greener pastures elsewhere. That greener pasture was, unfortunately, the Butchers' mortal enemy- House Orza. Word came down from the big dogs;

"Make him disappear."

What was she to do? Lyon didn't seem to be the murderous sort. A strong-armed lemming, maybe, but not a killer. But what if they were right? What if Lyon was a danger to Tallstag that genuinely meant to take him out? Did she take that risk to live with herself? The answer would be soon made for her, as Marenus and Clovis made a stand to bring him to heel. Having to choose, in that instant, between friends and now-foes, she chose her friends and brought the battle between the two Orzans and their associate to a swift end. It haunted her, as she carried him into the 98th. It haunted her as Kirkland and Rarande circled his broken body like sharks, and as Marenus looked to grease his palms. It haunted her as the reality of what was going to take place began to unfold.

It wasn't until she entered the kill chamber that it all came crashing down on her in an instant. The beatdowns. The robbings. The kidnappings. The threats and coercion . She stared at a man she once thought highly of, and, to herself, she asked herself seriously;

"Am I actually the bad guy?".

It was a place of terrible fates. To spare his neck would be to look soft to the wolves in Butcher aprons and the pitiless bosses that ruled over them, as well as potentially put Tallstag back in danger. To kill him would solve a lot of problems. Could she bring herself to do it?

What was left of Sunwela that night died with Lyon, and from her remorse was Butcher Sunny born. The crown, in a way, helped disassociate the horrible things she did and the vile plots she took part of. Where it failed, Kirkland's junksnuff sufficed. At least, for a time, before even its sweet caress fell flat and she had to start taking it to not feel like shit. The names were similar enough for a smooth transition and, while one life style occasionally leaked into another, it helped her live with the guilt during the day and speak with confidence. A confidence that would leave her as soon as the crown came off. A confidence that abandoned her in her sleep, as the ghosts of the past came back to horribly haunt her in her dreams- the piercing stare of those who's lives she had taken, the roars of brutality that rung in her ears and startled her awake at night.

She could live with the violence, for a time. She still had her family. She still had something to live for and the peace of doing guard work in the Square helped unpack the negative thoughts that swirled in her head. At least, some of them. Nothing lasts forever, though.

First, it was Clovis she lost. On a quest to distant dark realms that he never returned from.

Then it was Marenus, who, in the pursuit of grandeur, obtained immortality but was cursed to forever be frail and old.

Then came Verata. What exactly happened between her and the mysterious powers is, for now, to be obfuscated. She was still of flesh and bone, but at such a cost that she grew nothing but the utmost resentment for the figure that did it to her. It was the bridge too far. It was the insult that could not be suffered, and in blood-boiling rage, she raised her axe to avenge her- only to be cut short by the superior bladeslinger. She wasn't sad to die, as she laid there, soon to be brutalized and thrown into a pile like the rest of them. She was finally at peace, to finally get her just desserts for every atrocity she committed- but what she was, was curious as to how she got there.

Agamast's words came to her, in those last few seconds in her mind. That his death would bring ruin. He was half right, in that it would bring ruin, but not to Ticker Square. As long as there was a deal to be made, shelter to be sought from the dangers outside and a need to be fulfilled, Ticker Square would stand and thrive. It did bring ruin to herself, as when presented the option between dignity and duty, she chose duty,  sacrificing everything that made her the woman she was and shedding her innocence to protect and ensure the prosperity of those she held in the highest regard.

She embraced the oblivion that awaited her.

[/hide]

When I first made Sunwela and it occurred to me that both her and Verata used greataxes, I made a wager to see which one of us would land the highest crit before one of us died. The odds were stacked against me, but I was in it to win it. To those who appreciate x3 critical hits, you might get a sensible chuckle out of this.
[hide=The Crit Race][/hide]

A few of her treasures. Simple treasures that ended up serving nefarious purposes.
[hide=Treasure][/hide]

Memes.
[hide=No order.][/hide]

See you all consistently some time before Christmas. Or 2020. Whichever.

[Easy To Remember]

Sunny was the chief non-evil (at first) Butcher and an important part of making our crew human between uncomfortable, immoral choices.

Thank you for keeping me encouraged and engaged, IC and OOC. You're an excellent writer and cool pal.

[Hide=A Solid Try][/hide]

[Garem]

Sunny was an outstanding addition to the high point of the Butchers' story so far. Very fun, wish our time synced up a little better to have further developed some twists into bigger story arcs.

And you magnificent son of a bitch, I read your book! =)