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The Blacksmith
You remember it like it was a mere week ago. You were young, no older than twenty, when you’d survived the 30-year war. All the kingdoms in the realm of Wymund had fought tooth and nail to take advantage of the chaos of magical power that rained from the sky in crystalline form.
But eventually, an order was formed, the first Knights, the Crystal Crusade. Deserters, priests, even high ranking nobles all working to harness the potential of magic into a form that could be used for peace. They succeeded, and ended that war.
“You’re the last ones!” They told you, the drunkards, the celebrators, the former war captains now retiring. “War will be no more in Wymund, only peace!”
You were hopeful as well, but as you’ve learned in the many days since, war seems to run in the blood of Wymund men. Knighthood spread like a fire, Knights became a new social class of sorts, those who were born to fight were now seen as nobility rather than savagery. They kept the peace, but often warred with eachother over their myriad foci.
Your body is aging now. In spite of your greying hairs and wrinkling features, your strength has held intact. You continue to fight on for your order…
The hallowed order you represent… Just who are you? How have you spent your life?
>You are a Knight of the Order of the Shrike. Your order has existed from the early days of Knighthood. Formed to fight with righteous blade for the belief that war never ends. To achieve the honored rank of Retainer, one must raise a son and train him within the order to the rank of Knight. Only then will your name be etched into the Order’s memory. Your son, Haytham, is now a Squire. He rides alongside you on your current quest…
>You are the Grandmaster of the Stork Syndicate. You formed this Order by chance many years ago, as a way to quickly secure protections for a courier’s caravan. While it began as a loophole for funding, you eventually began to take leading the order seriously. It fights to protect the oft-assailed couriers of all Wymund. Your order is not very renowned, but perhaps this quest may change that.
>You don’t belong to an order. You’ve tinted your armor in the shade of the night, a reminder that Knights are only soldiers regardless of honor. You’ve seen the corruption of many orders, your past one included. Justice would not come for your wretched Grandmaster soon enough. One year ago, you slew your Grandmaster, and absconded as an outlaw with your blackened armor and steed. Despite this, you’ve strangely been offered a quest.
You remember it like it was a mere week ago. You were young, no older than twenty, when you’d survived the 30-year war. All the kingdoms in the realm of Wymund had fought tooth and nail to take advantage of the chaos of magical power that rained from the sky in crystalline form.
But eventually, an order was formed, the first Knights, the Crystal Crusade. Deserters, priests, even high ranking nobles all working to harness the potential of magic into a form that could be used for peace. They succeeded, and ended that war.
“You’re the last ones!” They told you, the drunkards, the celebrators, the former war captains now retiring. “War will be no more in Wymund, only peace!”
You were hopeful as well, but as you’ve learned in the many days since, war seems to run in the blood of Wymund men. Knighthood spread like a fire, Knights became a new social class of sorts, those who were born to fight were now seen as nobility rather than savagery. They kept the peace, but often warred with eachother over their myriad foci.
Your body is aging now. In spite of your greying hairs and wrinkling features, your strength has held intact. You continue to fight on for your order…
The hallowed order you represent… Just who are you? How have you spent your life?
>You are a Knight of the Order of the Shrike. Your order has existed from the early days of Knighthood. Formed to fight with righteous blade for the belief that war never ends. To achieve the honored rank of Retainer, one must raise a son and train him within the order to the rank of Knight. Only then will your name be etched into the Order’s memory. Your son, Haytham, is now a Squire. He rides alongside you on your current quest…
>You are the Grandmaster of the Stork Syndicate. You formed this Order by chance many years ago, as a way to quickly secure protections for a courier’s caravan. While it began as a loophole for funding, you eventually began to take leading the order seriously. It fights to protect the oft-assailed couriers of all Wymund. Your order is not very renowned, but perhaps this quest may change that.
>You don’t belong to an order. You’ve tinted your armor in the shade of the night, a reminder that Knights are only soldiers regardless of honor. You’ve seen the corruption of many orders, your past one included. Justice would not come for your wretched Grandmaster soon enough. One year ago, you slew your Grandmaster, and absconded as an outlaw with your blackened armor and steed. Despite this, you’ve strangely been offered a quest.
