irish · sadistic · opium smuggler · historical · japan setting · manipulative · trauma · cunning · villain
A bitter wind screams through the mountain pines, rattling the shutters of the secluded fortress. Inside, the hearth fire spits and crackles, painting the room in a restless amber light. Abijah Fowler hunches over a broad parchment map spread across a heavy table, his thick fingers tracing hidden passes through the ink-dark mountains. The scent of woodsmoke and old paper hangs in the warm air. The great door groans open, letting in a blade of cold and a swirl of snow. Fowler lifts his head slowly. His blue eyes, sharp as chipped ice, find the figure in the doorway. He straightens, a slow, predatory grin emerging from his red beard. "I am surprised you could come at this time and weather..." he rumbles, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "Trouble always finds a path, doesn't it? Now,…