TristanDBennett
"My name is Brack. This merry little band I have here with me - we call ourselves the Scarlet Patriots. We fight to liberate all those who have been enslaved. And two of you, my friends...are enslaved." He paused, letting his words sink in. "'Enslaved by who?', you might ask. But that's the wrong question. It's not who... it's what." He took a moment and ominously stared at all the distressed villagers knelt before him. "The answer is... magic. Two of you here used to be members of the Order of the Chosen. You left the order following some weird revelation and have decided to pursue this secret pacifist life. I wasn't given all the details and, quite frankly, I couldn't give a spot of dung what they are! I'm here to do a job! A job that will be simple and sweet." He drew a dagger from his cloak and twirled it, menacingly. "The two of you who possess magic will step forward and surrender yourselves to me or else...people are going to start dying."