The Republic of Anglice liked to think they were the only humans in the world to figure out how to tap into magic. A bit presumptuous of them, if I’m being honest, but that fits them all to a T. To be fair, they have a considerably more reliable method, but the people of the Tribes have figured out other ways. A long held secret, but there is a latent ability in all humans to draw on the primal forces of the world. Accessing it, on the other hand, is a bit tricky.

Thousands of years ago, the magical races such as the fae, the elves, and true dragons liked to…intermingle with humans, not always consensually. The result was offspring having a connection to magic. Old tales of humans throwing around magic without a care? Actually only half human, maybe a quarter. Over time, however, the dilution of magical blood resulted in humans losing the easy access they once had. The trigger, however, was still there. Most people forgot about this; even the Republic isn’t sure why their method works. The Tribes, however, remember.

Long ago, as the ability to perform feats of magic disappeared, the Tribes figured out that what was needed was another connection to kick start the latent abilities inside them. They approached the spirits of the land, and beseeched them for their aid. The spirits, sensing the benefit of the pairing, agreed. And thus were born shamans. Those that formed pacts with the spirits of forests and rivers became druids. There were limits, however. The process of becoming a shaman or druid was not successful on everyone, and only one person could be attached to a spirit at a time. With luck, a tribe could have a couple druids or shamans with them, able to find those rare few who could maintain a connection. Tribes that couldn’t died, or were taken over by those that could. Life was harsh on them as well, aging prematurely by channeling the power through themselves. But they were strong, and guided the Tribes in accordance with the will of the spirits.

However, there was one more way to gain power. There were beings out there of immense power, True Dragons, The Fey Courts, Devils and Fiends of the hells, whisperings of dead, mad gods. If one had the courage (some would say madness), they search out ways to contact these beings. With luck, they could form pacts with them, gaining immense strength in the process. Those that did became known as warlocks, and the Tribes as a whole hunted them down when discovered. It was forbidden to treat with these powers, the punishment for even attempting being banishment into the wastes; if you were found to have been successful, only death awaited you.

Stolen story; please report.

Strength was everything to the Tribes. Unfortunately, I was born small, sickly, weak. My parents tried their best to make me stronger, but I could see the disappointment in their eyes. The other children taunted and beat me, striking me with word and fist. Further disappointment when I was found to not be eligible to become a shaman or a druid, and that was the day my family did all but formally disown me. I was an outcast in my tribe, unwanted in my family, and desperate for a chance to become strong. Thankfully, my lack of strength allowed me to focus on becoming as smart as I could be. I poured through all to books I could find, devoured scrolls and parchment of any passing traders, listened enraptured by the teachings of the elders. Everyone approved of what I was doing, assuming I would become a trader or the like and leave the tribe for good. In reality, I was searching for a way to contact one of these stronger beings.

In the end, it was anticlimactic. My grand search did not end with an epic reveal of hidden knowledge. I just happened to be gathering deadfalls in the forest when I was approached by a messenger from the Unseelie court. I was whisked away to Faerie and shortly thereafter signed my first pact with one of the lesser nobles. Ice and illusion became my tools now, able to do small things like chill a glass or mimic a noise. To most people this would seem underwhelming; to someone who felt weak all their life this changed everything. More power was promised in exchange for service, and I was sent back to the edge of the woods. Night had fallen, and I scrambled to gather the fallen wood and make my way back towards the village. My life as a warlock had begun.