Obadiah had just finished off the last Legion warrior with a series of rib-shattering blows, when the wind picked up. All the better to carry their dead scent far, that all would know their destruction. She looked up from her quarry, blood-flecks painting her satisfied grin. "The Legion tribe are driven away. A pity, it was far too easy." Obadiah looked back down the street toward the center of town. "Now, we must deal with the cowards of Nipton." She had no love for those that would bow and scrape to the Legion, they were worse than the slaves who were forced to fight.

Starting down the street, toward the largest building in town, Obadiah began formulating a plan for what to do. First she would find Nipton's chief, and cripple him. She would kill any who opposed her, of course. The idea pleased Obadiah greatly. However, she was snapped out of her reverie when she saw on the horizon something far worse for the town than ever her wrath. A great cyclone, a storm of terrible omen. Even so far away, she could tell that the tornado would leave near nothing standing in the town.

Obadiah rushed back down the street to grab her companion. "Quickly! The storms shall strip our flesh if we do not find shelter!" She swept her eyes down the alley, spotting an old, rusted cellar door. "There!"