Fog’s partner who went MIA in Glow City until recently in May 2071.
The wiry blond woman in her early thirties is a competent spellcaster and scavenger, has a way with people and a knack for cutting a good deal.
At least that’s what the people at the Mall or certain corners of Touristville, where she has some credit, will tell you.
Those who know her better despite her efforts of keeping a low profile would describe her as cunning yet abnormally kind for a place like the Barrens.
The few lucky enough to call the shaman a friend know she’s going to great lengths to help those she considers kin.
Rook went missing when she and Fog had to split up during a fatal encounter with a group of Rusted Stilettos.
After months of searching and no sign of life she reappeared during the Satellite Day riots, bearing the scars of living almost half a year in Glow City.
The good news is, she’s still alive.
On the flipside, while she was lost in the wastelands, solitude and despair have driven Rook down the dark and twisted path of her mentor spirit.
After a spectacularly insane wreck-and-rescue mission against the Rusted Stilettos she’s out of Glow City and back with her partner.
Rook lost her way and her magic for a while. A metaquest helped to bring her on the right track again and she’s back in Crow’s swarm.
‘Why do you do this to yourself?’, asked the last voice she’d want to hear right now.
‘Fuck off.’, she told him with a sore throat, but without the force she wanted to put into that statement.
‘Have I ever led you astray, Rook?’, the black bird in the shadows asked, almost verbally wounded.
A weak laugh introduced the shaman’s answer. ’Don’t try to con the con-artist, drekhead. You aren’t him.‘, she whispered.
’Such harsh but true words. Very well, cards on the table, then.’, the large crow came hopping into the sickly light that oozed into the shabby cell the woman was sitting in.
Small particles of dust danced in the glowing rays and blurred the bird’s outlines as he tilted his head. ‘First of all, we wouldn’t be talking if you really wanted me to ‘Fuck off’, my dear. Secondly, and based on my first statement I assume you’d agree, this is not a con. No tricks, no strings. We both know this has become a pure matter of survival. Must be your lucky day, because I can lend you a hand and my expertise and you will definitely survive.’
Crow looked up to her with black eyes, waiting. She could feel his sly smile.
‘Great, I’ll have fries and a huge pack of get the fuck out my cell with that.‘, the shaman said with all the strength she could muster.
’Look, little bird, I know you want to live, simply because I’m here. I’m repeating myself on purpose so that you get that into your head. Turn me down and you will die. And you will die alone, I might add…’ he chuckled, ‘See, now we’re hitting nerves…’
‘Go to hell.’
‘Judging by the looks of it and your diminishing eloquence, I must already be right there, don’t you think?’
The spirit guide shed a couple of burned feathers, flapping his wings.
‘But that’s a nice segue: you are an educated person. So let’s paraphrase a bit, shall we? If heaven is no longer an option…‘, he started.
’..rule in hell? Seriously, that’s your hook?‘, she asked, laughing weakly.
’To put it more simply, just for you, this is a rare win-win situation, even win-win-win if you consider my humble self, but let’s not get into that just now. Those…people…need you. They need guidance and more direction in their ill-fated ambitions. They only keep you alive and relatively unspoiled because they know what this place does to the awakened and because I have a claw or two in this. You need a flock, a family, and someone to turn what hurts you into what helps you. A little influence on my part and you’ll be out of this hole in a jiffy. Free…no longer alone and fueled by a power greater than my lame brother on the other side of the coin could dream of. See, everybody wins.’
‘No…no, you won’t get me, but thanks for the company and super villain exposition. Now twirl your ‘stache and leave me alone.’ Rook answered bleakly, gazing down the spirit.
‘Do not try to con the con-artist, right back atcha, little bird. You know, during the first couple of days I’d totally buy that. But now? Months in? You’re down and the count is nine.’
The large bird held her gaze, taking another hop towards the shaman.
‘But as you wish. Just call me when you’re lonely. Our kind is not really into gambling, but I’d bet we have an agreement very soon.’
His last words dissipated into the ether as he shifted away from the material plane.
Rook leaned against the grimy wall, sobbing.
She knew the spirit was right.