The Forging of Fates had arrived and He was busy. Across the world, every youth who had reached the age of sixteen in the past year was preparing to step through the doors into adulthood. It was His task to provide each one of them with Gifts. Two Gifts for each meant He had a lot to do. There were tens of thousands of gifts for him to make at least, perhaps hundreds of thousands, and He tried to make each gift uniquely tailored to the individual. Weapons, armor, armor, jewelry, cooking wares, it did not matter. Each one was tailored for the youth who were the future of the world of Herald.
As each of the youths stepped through the doors He would study them, their thoughts, their dreams and ambitions. He would fashion each Gift with the wants and needs of each individual in mind. He wasn’t omniscient of course, but after a few millennia of doing this He liked to think He had gotten rather good at determining what would help them achieve their best selves. One by one He crafted the Gifts and deposited them into the space that each would enter.
Most would have considered what He did this time of year as work, but for Him it was a relaxing break from His normal work. His normal work was dark and difficult, if necessary. It was long, lonely work filled with violence and fear. He feared for himself in part, but mostly He feared that He would fail. That the darkness would swallow Him and everything He had worked for up. So He had no choice but to keep moving forward. Then on this one day of the year in which He had peace he would set aside the ways of destruction and take pleasure in making things. He would bend seconds into days, days into weeks and all the while He would be building, crafting and shaping.
Then He would set down his tools and sat back to watch in satisfaction as they took the Gifts He had made them and received their third gift. The secret gift that each person had been born with and was now ready to bloom. A gift that they would have to learn for themselves. These third gifts were not His doing. They were older and more powerful. They could shape the world in ways that even He could not predict.
Prologue
Kilnoher
Kiln sat atop the wooded hill, waiting. The Forging was today and any moment now the door would appear and he would step through it and accept his Gifts. As he waited he munched on a small lunch his mother had packed for him. She was always looking out to make sure he had everything she thought he needed. Honestly, she probably would have followed him out here and through the door if she could have, but the tradition of the elves dictated that he find a secluded place where he could meditate before the fateful moment, then he would rejoin his people for a celebration that night. Eventually, the moment arrived. Kiln blinked and there was suddenly a door ten feet in front of him.
The young elf stood and stepped through the simple wooden door that had appeared before him. It was not fancy or glowing. Just a simple oak door with a brass knob and hinges. The only indication that it was odd, was the fact that it popped into existence right in front of him right on the crest of the woody hill that he had decided to settle down on for the Forging of Fates. There was no building that accompanied the door. No flash of light as it appeared. No glowing runes engraved on its smooth surface. It was just a door standing on a hill leading, seemingly, from nowhere to nowhere.
So Kiln opened the Fated door. As he stepped through he scanned his new surroundings. By habit the elf’s fingers twitched toward the long dagger at his hip, before he stopped himself. The door would not contain anything dangerous. They never did.
To his surprise his soft leather boots crunched pleasantly through a carpet of fallen leaves. Their browns, bright oranges and yellows wove together amongst the trees that were still full of the vibrant colors despite the vast quantity of them that already littered the ground. As Kiln shut the door and looked around at the unexpected scene for springtime his eyes were drawn to a clearing a short distance away where the carpet of leaves came to a sudden stop. In the middle of the clearing a small campfire sat, flames crackling and dancing merrily. A log, perfectly suited for sitting, was carefully placed near the fire.
Kiln took a deep breath. The air was fresh and the trees gave off a deep rich scent unlike anything Kiln had ever smelled before. Seeing nothing else of note, Kiln started walking toward the campfire. He was torn between crashing through the fallen leaves with reckless abandon or moving cautiously through the new environs. He reminded himself that everything beyond the door would be safe. Then set off at a casual, relaxed pace.
As he walked Kiln studied the trees. They appeared to be some kind of species of massive sprawling oak and white barked aspen trees. Close to varieties he had seen, but not quite the same.
After half a minute of walking he reached the fire and its conveniently placed log and, seeing nothing else around him but trees and fallen leaves, he sat to stare into the fire. After a minute of staring he noticed a stick he could use to poke at the flames. The fire gave off its own unique fragrance that was both the same and different as the scent of the trees around Kiln. The elf looked around uncertainly. The sky was a blaze of colors that complemented the colors of the leaves in a way that was not natural, although it was certainly beautiful. Then Kiln felt a shiver go up his spine and he was not sure if it was the result of the slight breeze that kicked up around him or the realization that there was no sun in the sky, reminding him that, wherever he was, it was not a natural place.
Kiln leaned closer to the fire as goosebumps ran up his arms. Again, he was not sure if that was from the breeze or the nature of the surroundings themselves. As Kiln leaned forward, he noticed something laying on the ground against the log. He reached down and picked up a long cloth wrapped object. As he unwrapped it he realized the deep green cloth was actually a thick cloak of some unknown material. Kiln appreciatively pulled the cloak on before he turned his attention to the long piece of wood he had unwrapped.
It was a longbow. The bow was simple at first glance, but as Kiln examined the wood he could immediately tell that this was a high quality bow. The wood grain was perfect and the wood felt strong, yet flexible. Kiln also did not recognize the type used in the bow’s construction. As Kiln studied the bow a whisper of thought entered his mind. The Longbow of Sight. Kiln was not sure where this intruding thought came from but after a moment settled on the idea that it must be part of the magic of Fate. Just as Kiln decided on this a second thought intruded into his mind. The Cloak of Shadows. Kiln glanced at the cloak and knew. These were his gifts. They appeared simple. In fact most people would probably assume that they were ordinary. After all, most gifts were beautiful and unique.
Kiln glanced up then. The sky was growing darker. It was time to go. Kiln could feel it in his heart and besides there was nothing more to do here. Pulling his cloak tightly around him and holding the new bow close, Kiln strode off through the trees back to the door. As he opened it, he turned back to stare one last time at the picturesque scene and drew one last breath in through his nose. The rich smells fixed themselves in his mind one last time. Another breeze blew through his long brown hair and a few of the fallen leaves blew past him and followed him as he stepped back out back onto the forested hill, bathed in the noon day sun. As he looked out over the forest, Kiln could see a second door opening toward the bottom of the hill, A small sack of books lying in the grass near it. A familiar looking figure was stepping out.
The other boy was near his own age. Human with thin blonde hair, crystalline blue eyes and wearing a simple green shirt with long sleeves and a pair of sturdy blue pants. He wore a pair of well worn, heavy black books and brown supple leather gloves. In his hands he held a pair of objects that could only be his Gifts.
Name: Kilnoher
Age: 16
Race: Elf
Mana
Nature Mana: 1/1
Earth Mana: 1/1
Body Mana: 1/1
Blessings:
Longbow of Sight: Doubles your bow range and darkvision
Cloak of Shadows: Shadow Stealth Level 1 0/2 Increase your stealth level by the level of this cloak
Skills:
Health: 19/19
Longevity: Level 4 1/16
Darkvision: Level 4 1/16 You can see perfectly in the dark for up to 4(8) feet.
Bow range: Level 3 0/8 You bow range is 53(106) feet
Bow Accuracy: Level 2 0/4
Bow damage: Level 1 0/2
Nature Mana: Level 1 1/2
Earth Mana: Level 1 0/2
Stealth: Level 2(3) 0/4
Tracking: Level 1 0/2
Perception: Level 1 0/2
Body Mana: Level 1 0/2
Speed Boost Spell: Level 2 0/4 2/2 points used
Speed increase 1%
Boost Duration: 1 seconds per point of body mana used
Dan Del Torre
Dan felt a change in the air and looked up from the book he had been reading. To his great satisfaction he saw that the Door had appeared. He had read up extensively on the phenomenon and it was exactly as described in the books, a simple unadorned wooden door. Dan carefully closed his copy of Modern Defensive Sword Styles. An ironic name as the book was written over two centuries ago, but it was probably modern when it was first penned. Now it was more than a little outdated.
Dan set the tome aside and stood up. He adjusted the empty blue and gold scabbard at his waist and strode forward. This was the moment for him to find out if his theory would hold true. He swung open the door and stepped inside and looked around. The space was a large stone library. The shelves filled with thousands of books all carefully chained to the shelves. Dan shook his head. That was just plain mean. Surrounding him with a vast collection of knowledge and then not letting him read or take any of the books. Well maybe he would be able to take one, but if his theory was correct at least one of his two items would be a sword that would help him achieve his dream of becoming one of the greatest swordsmen in the world. Magic was amazing and Dan had loved studying it, but history always seemed to turn the greatest swordsmen into legends instead of mages. It was not fair to Dan’s way of thinking as mages clearly did as much, if not more than ordinary fighters, but that was just how the world worked.
Dan walked past shelf after shelf of books, most were without markings or titles on their spines, which was odd, but occasionally he would catch a glimpse of the words written on the spines. One book he did notice was titled The Five Secret Methods of Achieving Immortality. Another read, Mysteries of the Mystic Arts. Yet another read, Secrets of the Guardians: The ForgottenLibrary of the Thirteen. Naturally the chains binding the books to their shelves were particularly sturdy looking and Dan thought he might have seen a rune glowing on the book. At one point Dan saw what he thought were a pair of enchanted cutters leaning against a shelf. He could probably use them to free a couple of books from their shelves. This entire situation was just one gigantic taunt. Dan was sure of it. Whoever or whatever was responsible for the Forging was clearly aware of who he was and what he wanted and had tailored the entire scenario just to intrigue him, to tempt him and test his resolve. He would not fall for such an obvious ruse.
Scowling, Dan tore his eyes away from the books to look for his two Gifts so that he could leave as quickly as he could and get back to books he could actually read. Even as he did this he could have sworn that the last book he saw was titled Victory is Mine! That simply reinforced his opinion that whatever created this place knew exactly what it was doing. Annoyed, Dan moved faster and deeper into the library.
Finally, the shelves gave way to a pair of alcoves. Each one had a pedestal with a beautiful red velvet cushion and a single object on it. The first was a beautiful steel longsword. The blade was a simple silvery steel and the cross guard and pommel was a bronze looking steel of some kind in the shape of spread wings. The grip was wrapped in a deep blue leather with smaller strings of white leather wrapped over the blue. The placard on the pedestal read: The Blade of Memory. Dan looked at the scabbard on his hip. The shape and colors matched perfectly. Satisfied, he reached out, picked up the sword and slid the blade into the scabbard.
Then he turned to the second alcove. The second Gift was smaller than the first. It was a wand. It was jet black along almost its entire length, with an almost oily sheen to it. Dan did not recognize the material. The grip at the base of the wand was the only exception to the color and texture. It was an ornate gold carved into the shape of a cauldron with carved clouds of golden smoke rising up until it melded with the simple black length of the rest of the wand. The placard on the pedestal read: The Wand of Binding.
Dan picked up the wand and without a second thought headed back to the entrance, only pausing there to turn back to the room. Then he bowed deeply.
“Thank you for the Gifts.”
Dan did not know why, but he felt the gratitude towards whatever force or entity that bestowed the gift was appropriate. Then Dan took another step and was back outside in the woods. He fingered the wand in one hand, while his other hand rested on the pommel of his new sword. What would be the best way to test his new items?
A sound from further up the hill caused him to look up. Dan smiled as he saw an elf descending the hill towards him, dressed in the traditional brown and green of an elven ranger, their long unruly brown hair tied back into a que. A heavy green cloak was now draped around Kiln’s frame and a longbow was strapped to his back.
“Everything go alright Dan?”
The elf’s voice was cheerful and the smile on his face reached his dark brown eyes and made them twinkle for a moment.
“It went about what I expected. Did it go well for you?”
Kiln shrugged.
“It wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be, but it was nice. A beautiful forest at sunset. What was yours like?”
“It was a Library.
“I should have guessed. Well, should we head back.”
“Probably, your parents will be waiting for us. I am sure they and the other elves are preparing a celebration.”
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“True, though I really wish that they wouldn’t.”
Dan grinned.
“Well it's not very often that your people get to celebrate one of their family members going through a Forging.”
“True, curse of longevity I suppose. We don’t have children very often, so I suppose I can forgive my parents. Maybe.”
The two strode off into the woods together laughing. Eventually they did arrive at Elven Glade, one of the cities of the elves nestled deep in their woods. There they found nearly a thousand elves gathered to celebrate the Forging of the six elven youths who had come of age that year. They included Dan with a great deal of enthusiasm. He may not be an elf, but he had been living with them for nearly five years and it just gave them another reason to celebrate. As they celebrated late into the night, though, Dan began to feel a pang of regret. He wished Master Aridan was here as well, but he was not and he never would be.
Name: Dan Del Torre
Age:16
Race: Human
Mana:
Basic Mana: 2/2
Body Mana 1/1
Blessings:
Blade of Memory: Relive the past of those you have slain and gain their experience
Wand of Binding: Level 1 0/2 1/1 points used
Charges level 0 0/1 0/0 charges
Binding Duration: Level 1 0/2 Binding lasts 10 seconds
Skills:
Health: 17/17
Basic mana: Level 2 0/4
Body Mana: Level 1 0/2
Enchantment- Imbue Item(Skill Enhancement): Level 2 0/4 2/2 point used(requires 12 hour ritual and 1 gold per mana used)
Skill Enhancement increase: Level 1 0/2 Increases chosen skill by 1% per 100(99) mana imbued
Skill Enhancement Duration: Level 1 0/2 Imbuement lasts 1 minutes per 100(99) mana imbued
Imbuement Item Recharge: Level 0 0/1 item recharges 0 mana per day
Longsword Accuracy: Level 3 0/8
Longsword Damage: Level 2 0/4
Longsword Parry: Level 2 3/4
Mana Circle(chosen skill): Level 1 0/2
Light Armor: Level 1 0/2
Mana Sight: Level 1 0/2 Can see mana at a range of 1 foot and 1% chance to identify its type
Magic resistance: Level 1 0/2
Enchantment Magic Mana Cost Reduction: Level 1 reduce enchantment costs by 1%
Speed Boost: Level 2 0/4 2/2 points use
Speed increase 1%
Boost Duration: 1 seconds per point of body mana used
Strength boost: Level 2 0/4 2/2 points use
Strength increase 1%
Boost Duration: 1 seconds per point of body mana used
Defense boost: Level 2 0/4 2/2 points use
Defense increase 1%
Boost Duration: 1 seconds per point of body mana used
Weapon Enhancement(Temporary): Level 2 0/4 2/2 points use
Weapon Damage Increased by 1 level per 100(99) mana used
Boost Duration: 1 attack per 100(99) mana used
Armor Enhancement(Temporary): Level 2 0/4 2/2 points use
Armor Level Increased by 1 level per 100(99) mana used
Boost Duration: Endures 1 attack per 100(99) mana used
Icepaw
Icepaw huddled miserably in his bunk. The rocking of his tiny ship was barely noticeable as it was currently partially beached on the banks of a river. The motion did not help his unsettled stomach, nor did it help his already spinning head. How was it that an arctic kitsune of the northern continent could get a cold from the warm weather of the south. It made no sense to him. Icepaw twitched his ears in annoyance and snuffled his nose before unsteadily climbing to his feet. With a shuffling gait he staggered out of the bunkroom and into the hall. He staggered down to the door that led into the galley and opened it in a daze. There should be some cold soup he could heat up on the stove. To his relief he found the soup still hot. Apparently he had forgotten to put out the cooking fire. Not particularly safe onboard a ship if it were at sea but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the Fox’s Fate was beached and its mast was snapped so the motion was not enough to dislodge any of the cooking fire’s coals.
With a sigh, Icepaw settled into a seat with a hot bowl of soup. He pulled a beautiful warm blue coat trimmed with fur that matched his own perfectly. Icepaw could not remember when or where he had acquired the coat but he thanked his past self for whatever common sense drove him to acquire it and then cursed himself for forgetting about it. With a sigh, he pulled it on. It fit him quite nicely. With the coat snuggly affixed about him. Icepaw dug into his soup. It was far more flavorful than he remembered it being earlier, but being sick did strange things to one’s taste buds. The flavorful soup helped to perk him up and he felt a little more alert and content. It was a gamy, almost like the huge pots elk soups his clan would make while huddling in the grand den.
It made him just a little lonely and homesick for the warm den of his clan. For a moment he could see the large spacious den dug into a small hillside. All around the lonely hill the vast reaches of the frozen tundra of the Northern continent stretched on endlessly into the distance. But inside the den was warmth and cheer. White and blue furred kitsune, a coloration unique to the fox folk of the north, were bundled up in elk hides around a small hearth that had a tunnel dug upwards to the crest of the hill where the smoke could escape the burrow.
There was a small sudden shift and with a small groan Icepaw stood up and nearly fell over, the nausea and full stomach, disorienting him and breaking the spell the memories had placed on him. Fortunately there was something long he could use as a makeshift cane. With his newly acquired walking implement, Icepaw siddled out of the galley and back down the hall, his tail happily whisking back and forth. As he settled back into his bunk to take another nap, Icepaw noted the object he had been using as a cane was an elegant, thin blade in a blue sheath. Like the coat, Icepaw did not remember acquiring it. It was a beautiful weapon and its color matched the coat. Maybe they were part of a set. With a smile and a shrug, he wrapped himself in his blankets for a good sleep. He only woke when what appeared to be an odd elven ranger and his companion stumbled into his cabin several hours later.
Name: Icepaw
Age: 16
Race: Beastman
Mana:
Basic Mana 2/2
Blessings:
Rapier of the Frozen Level 1 0/2 Adds 1 point of ice damage per mana spent
Coat of Changing Level 1 0/2 Adds 1 level to Illusion magic
Skills:
Health 19/19
Darkvision: Level 4 1/16
Animal Handling: Level 4 1/16
Unarmed Accuracy: Level 1 0/2
Unarmed Damage: Level 1 0/2
Unarmed Evasion: Level 2 2/4
Tracking: Level 2 0/4
Survival: Level 2 0/4
Climbing: Level 2 3/4
Basic Mana: Level 2 0/4
Crafted Illusion: Level 3(4) 0/8 3(4)/3(4) point used
Illusion Size: Level 1 0/2 Illusion has max size of 1 foot squared
Illusion Duration: Level 2 0/4 Illusion lasts 10 seconds per mana spent
Disguise Self: Level 2(3) 0/4 disguises oneself in an illusion for 2(3) minutes
Sleight of Hand: Level 1 0/2
Sailing: Level 1 0/2
Perception: Level 1 1/2
Hydrozeno
Hydrozeno pushed himself up off the ground. His body hurt from the latest round of experiments. The two masters stood nearby arguing with each other about the results. Hydrozeno did not understand what exactly had them worked up, but the impression that he got was that one of the masters thought the regeneration was suddenly stronger than it should be. It did not seem like a problem to him. As his mind wandered, so did his gaze. The vast stone cavern that his home was, depressingly, just as it had always been. To one side there were desks and bookshelves and tables. Across the cavern stood a dozen iron barred cages, including his own. All were currently unoccupied. Another wall held the single tunnel that exited out into the outside world. Hdrozeno had only made a single trip down that lonely tunnel, the one when the masters had brought him to the cavern almost ten years ago.
Then Hydrozeno’s gaze settled on the door. It caught Hydrozeno off guard. There was a plain wooden door just standing in front of him. It had definitely not been there a moment ago. Hydrozeno glanced at the arguing masters, but they were too invested in their increasingly heated argument. Hydrozeno hesitated then inched towards the door. He knew that he should not be messing with the strange door. The masters grew furious when he touched anything of theirs, but there was just something about the strange door that seemed to pull Hydrozeno towards.
With one eye on the masters, who were now screaming at each other, Hydrozeno reached out and opened the door. He gaped at what he saw inside. Inside was a room that he had not seen since he was very small. It was a small space with wooden floors and walls, except along one wall there was a stone structure with a fire burning inside it. Along the opposite wall was a wood frame with a mattress. Hydrozeno dreamily stumbled into memory. WIth tears streaming down his face, Hydrozeno threw himself into the bed. Something warm and fuzzy snuggled up to him and out of habit he reached out to snuggle it. Then he grabbed the wooden sword that was leaning against the bed and fell asleep. For the first time in nearly ten years, Hydrozeno slept soundly and without fear and a small part of him healed.
When he woke he felt warm. As he stood up, Hydrozeno realized the warm, fuzzy object was actually a black furred bag and the wooden sword was a sheathed scimitar in a hard wooden sheath. With a sinking feeling, Hydrozeno knew he had to go before the masters came looking for him. He knew they could follow him anywhere. It was only a matter of time before they came for him, but they might not be as mad if he went back on his own. So Hydrozeno stood up and walked back to the door, opened it and walked through.
As Hydrozeno reemerged into the cave that the masters had converted into their laboratory he realized something was very wrong. The ground was blackened in spots and the smell of burned flesh filled the air. On the ground lay two figures. One was blackened beyond recognition. The other was moaning and struggling weakly on the ground. Hydrozeno approached the form slowly and soon recognized the gaunt, almost skeletal form of one of the masters. His stomach was torn open and a black ichor had pooled beneath his wounded form. It would take a long time to heal, Hydrozeno knew.
The master looked up and blinked.
“Experiment Zero, how did you get out? You know what, never mind, we must have never put you back in your cage. Walk over to the desk there and get me a scroll. Second drawer down on the left. It should heal me a little. It cost me a fortune to get despite its weak effects. If only healing magic wasn’t so rare. Wait what are you-”
As the master had been rambling, Hydrozeno had approached him and drawn the very real scimitar he had acquired in his old room. Then Experiment Hydra Zero ran his former master through the chest with the newly acquired blade, which glowed slightly red as it pierced the old man’s ribs. The withered mage stared up at the former experiment in horror. The realization of what was happening was beginning to dawn in his eyes. The master mage opened his mouth to speak some kind of spell or order and that would force Hydrozeno to action. Hydrozeno suspected it would either be a command to save the dying mage or an act of final retribution. The only thing that emerged from the man’s lips was a desperate rattling gasp and a small splat of blood. The lung had been punctured.
“What have you always said was the most important thing for me to learn Master?”
Hydrozeno’s voice was raspy from little use and the sound was foreign to even his own ears. The mage laying on the ground went still, the light of comprehension leaving his eyes never to return.
“The perfect soldier should use every opening he can to bring his enemy to their knees. It seems you were right.”
Hydrozeno left the dead where they were. They were not worth the time and effort to dispose of and Hydrozeno had no wish to linger in this dark cave that stank of blood and death. The world beyond the door had reminded Hydrozeno of a better world. One of blue skies and sunlight. It reminded him of birds and the wind, of laughing people and gentle hugs. He vaguely remembered faces he once knew and lamented the names that had long been forgotten. He just remembered their warmth and concern.
Hydrozeno strode over to the arrangement of tables, desks and shelves that formed their work area. He knew those faces and people were gone, but maybe there were other people like that. Those people might want him. They might need a soldier to keep what happened to the last group of faces from happening to them as well. Even if they did not. There was still the sky and the sun and other things he could see again. He would need things to help him find them again.
He found the scroll that the former master had mentioned earlier and stuffed it into his new bag. As he did, a wet snuffling nose greeted his fingers. Startled Hydrozeno yanked his hand out. Then he cautiously peered into the bag. A tiny black dog clambered out and happily sniffed his boots. Then it started to yip and run around. Eventually it found a desk and began clawing at a drawer. Hydrozeno opened the drawer and found a large bag with clear colorless crystals the size of his fingernail inside. There was also a small bag of gold coins that he happily took. He had only seen gold coins once before and remembered that they were considered valuable.
The dog kept scrabbling at the bag of crystals, whining as it did so. Rolling his eyes, Hydrozeno held out one of the crystals for the dog to sniff. After a moment of sniffing the dog’s mouth snapped open and it swallowed the small gem. Hydrozeno stared at the dog. Did it look a little bigger? He eyed the crystals then stashed them back in his bag. Then he began to search the cave for other interesting items. He found some food. Which he packed up in a leather backpack he uncovered in a cabinet. He found some clothes and leather armor which seemed to be tailored to his exact size. Another drawer held another bag of coins. He counted the coins and found he had twenty one gold coins, thirty two silver coins and fifty six copper coins. Hydrozeno frowned as he realized that he had no idea if that was a lot of money. He remembered gold coins were supposed to be worth a lot but he was not sure exactly what he could do with it.
The only other things in the cave appeared to be the masters’ papers and books. Huge tomes filled with cramped handwriting and carefully crafted diagrams. Hydrozeno left these there, having no use for them himself as he could barely read. The masters knew that some reading skills were required to be effective at many things, but he debated as to how much they should actually teach. Apparently, too much learning was a bad thing.
Satisfied he had everything he wanted, Hydrozeno left the large cave, the only place he had known in almost ten years. The tiny dog bounded cheerfully ahead of him. Hydrozeno emerged blinking into the sun. It took several minutes for his eyes to adjust but eventually he found himself on a small outcropping on a small mountainside. Spread out below him was a brilliant green forest with a large shining blue river running through it. Overhead was the bluest sky Hydrozeno had remembered ever seeing. The sight made him choke and cry. It had been so long since he had seen the outside world and felt the touch of the wind on his face. It was a different sensation than he remembered. Probably because much of his body was now covered in patches of scales rather than the smooth skin it had once been.
As Hydrozeno looked out over the world he noticed that on the banks of that river was a wooden structure with a trail of smoke billowing upward. Hydrozeno knew that smoke meant that there would be a fire and where there was fire, there were people.
It took several hours to climb down the mountain side without falling. Then there was the difficulty of navigating the forest. The trees were taller and more majestic than they appeared to be at a distance and they blocked Hydrozeno’s line of sight making him nervous that he was being stalked by any number of monsters that he could not see. It felt like it took forever for the pair to make their way to the river. Once he reached the river, Hydrozeno could see the smoke further down and he hurried towards it. He found a very large boat. Hydrozeno immediately set about searching the boat, which he noticed had the words Fox’s Fate written on its side in peeling white paint. As he entered one room, a white and blue furred humanoid fox sat up, looked up at him curiously before it sneezed.
“I don’t suppose you have any medicine on you? This cold is killing me.”
Name: Hydrozeno
Age: 16
Race: Hydrablood Elf
Mana:
Blessings:
Scimitar of Flame: Level 1 0/2 Does 1 point of fire damage
Bag of the Companion Level 1 0/2 1/1 points spent
Health Level 1 0/2 Health 1/1
Claws Level 1 0/2
Bite Level 0 0/2
Fur Level 0 0/2
Skills:
Health: 19/19
Longevity: Level 4 1/16
Darkvision: Level 4 1/16
Bow Range: Level 1 0/2
Bow Damage: Level 3 1/8
Bow Accuracy: Level 3 0/8
Regeneration: Level 6 16/32 6/6 points used
Regeneration: Level 2 0/2
Instant Regeneration: Level 3 0/4
Swimming: Level 2 1/4
Scimitar Accuracy: Level 2 0/4
Scimitar Damage: Level 2 2/4
Scimitar Parry: Level 0 0/1
The Forging was done. One by one the youths across the world of Herald had received their Gifts and His labor of joy was done for another year. Slowly, He rose and retrieved His tool, His weapon, His hammer. The lights He had nourished were stepping out into the world. He needed to protect them. There was no one else who could do what He did. The sense of weariness that had disappeared during the Forging settled back onto His shoulders. With a lonely sigh He stepped into the darkness that bordered the world and began His vigil once more. He could not let the terrors of the dark snuff out the lights He had just Kindled into flame. His work was not yet done.