This started out as a half way point story (10 years past), but I
recently came back to it and couldn't think of a good part 2 to finish
it, so i turned it into a summary over 20 years of what's been going
on with Fintan.  Enjoy! (two long reads in one day...wheee!)


In the years following the conflict in Barovia, Fintan continued going
on missions for the Lightbringers, but none held the excitement or
thrill of battle as he'd experienced in times past.  With the memory
of his fallen mates always lingering in his mind during the conflict,
Fintan's sanity began to wane as he found new determination to
continue his experiments to strive to become a better fighter, a
better protector.  As the flow of new missions dwindled, he would
often be found locked within in his workshop, only the sound of
clanging on various metals, or small explosions escaping.  Sometimes
days would go by without leaving his shop, and the times between
emerging always seemed to grow farther apart.

One day as he emerged, some of the locals took notice that his odd
contraption they heard called a "battlefist" had a new tint of color
to it, to the point it almost looked exceedingly dirty.  This struck
them as odd because anytime they saw Fintan, it had always been
pristine and shiny.  One of the towns folk mentioned that he saw him
receive a shipment of some sort of rare metal not too long ago.  As
they murmured back and forth, a few of them also took notice of a
small black figure, following close behind Fintan as he made his way
through the streets to get more supplies.  From the first glance, it
looked like a small cat, though some thought they could tell that it
wasn't covered in fur, but it was so dark colored and swift as it made
it's way down the street, they couldn't make much of it out.  Fintan
didn't seem bothered by this creature, nor paid it much attention, but
people could tell he was aware of it and every so often he'd seem to
mutter something to himself, and the shadowy creature would pause a
moment, look around, look back up at him, and continue his pace.

It wasn't long before this new attention reached the Lightbringers,
and they began to question Fintan about his unusual companion and
where he got it from, or if it was even his, since he didn't seem to
give it much attention aside from a few slight glances.  He wouldn't
say much in response to the barrage of questions, and started to fall
asleep halfway through the inquiry due to lack of interest, or maybe
prolonged lack of sleep in general.  In any case, he finally obliged
them with a response in which he explained to them he wasn't
interested in going into detail about what he does in his own
workshop.  Sending a message Fintan didn't intend, the leaders of the
light bringers grew upset and started to question his motives, and
began to remind him of his duty to uphold and protect the ideals of
the light bringers.  At the thought of someone telling him how to
protect something, Fintan grew irritated and slammed his fist on the
table, breaking the table in half.  He stood up and went on a short
rant about his interpretation of protecting others, and how he didn't
think the light bringers couldn't protect their own mothers.
Infuriated, the men across the table called for the guards to disarm
Fintan and take him away.  With a slight chuckle Fintan turned towards
the guards and held out his arm for them with no sign of intent to
struggle.  The guards approached, and began to attempt to remove the
weapon but were a bit surprised to find it no longer had any locks or
clasps holding the battlefist around his arm, but rather seemed to
physically be part of his arm, with skin overlapping adamintine just
below the elbow.  With all the guards staring in shock and confusion,
Fintan took the moment to swing and knock everyone back.  Before
leaving, Fintan stated that their idea of protection will always be
hindered by their lack of dedication to do whatever necessary to
uphold the idea in it's purest form.  He also said he was leaving to
go do things that the Lightbringers could never accomplish, and gave
warning that if they attempted to pursue him in the name of their so
called "Justice", he would welcome the fight.  With that he resigned
from the Lightbringers and left.

As Fintan broke down his shop that night, the small shadowy creature
got up on two legs and stretched out a bit and started helping out
with what it could.  As the frustrated Fintan stood there packing gear
and a few items into his bags, he was in a fighting mood.  He began to
think about the other town's in the area, and which one's would offer
him the best fights.  Maybe Mror or Lhazaar, he had learned a few
things from the dwarves in the past..they would probably welcome him
again and they always offered good hardy fights.  Then there was
Lhazaar, well where there's piracy...there's bound to be a few good
fights.  Either place he could set up his shop again and make a bit of
coin to keep him going.

As he continued packing his shop supplies, his shadowy companion
perked his ears and looked off in the distance.  Fintan paused and
turned to see a messenger making his way towards them.  He turned back
and nodded towards his companion and it sneaked back behind some boxes
assuming the form of a black cat once again.  As the messenger came
within earshot, Fintan stopped him and asked what his business was.
The messenger explained he was sent to deliver a message to Fintan,
from the recently named Saint Loric.  With a sigh of frustration he
explained he wasn't interested, but the messenger persisted explaining
that it was a task Loric stated fit perfectly with Fintan's specific
skills, and would hold even greater battles than the ones they shared
in years past.  With thoughts of reveling in the glory of battle once
again, he turned and nodded saying he would see what his old friend
had in store for him.  With this answer, the messenger gave a location
to find out more information, Drellin's Ferry, nodded and began his
trek back out of town to deliver the response, leaving Fintan to
finish packing up.

By dawn he had for the most part finished packing everything.  He
covered his battlefist with part of his cloak to keep it out of sight
of passer-by's and avoid more unwanted attention  With a turn to his
shadowy companion he grinned and nodded for it to follow, which it
quickly complied and hopped into one of the bags as Fintan picked it
up and began walking out towards the city gates.