Where there are monsters, there are mercenaries. Trade caravans and prospectors learned long ago that the fauna of the Frontier--the thunder lizards, the minotaurs--are all best subdued with bullets. From the lone operators to the organized private security forces, few know the challenges of the Frontier as intimately as the hired guns that range its endless miles, and among them even fewer survive long enough to reap the benefits of their substantial earnings.

Despite the known risks, come winter farmhands all over take their past years savings and purchase a rifle, ammunition, and a horse, and set off for work along the desert trade lanes during the hibernation season. Year round, those more dedicated to the occupation hunt bounties on monsters and humans alike, often fighting among themselves for the more lucrative contracts. Those that aren't killed by mindlessly falling into a Tunneler warren, or taken by a wood specter in the night, are killed by their fellow freelancers more often than not.

For the best among them, however, the scarcity of their skillsets only skyrockets the prices they can demand. These individuals are as dangerous as any Constonian paladin, even without the benefit of arcane powers. Among their ranks are assassins, ex-soldiers, big game hunters, and escaped convicts. Ruthlessly efficient and never ones to shy away from bloodshed, word of their feats reach across the entire wilderness, and even draw the attention of those outside.