The small village of Kiln had no idea what was coming, today they would see just how devastating an excellent rogue could be. Alder had been stealing for as long as he could remember, and though most wood elves looked down on thievery, no one could deny his abilities. He had been eyeing up Kiln for a while, a once bustling place due to its talented smiths.
The greatest blacksmith in the town was a mighty dwarf known as Brassenbar. Once a warrior of the mountain city of the dwarves though he always had a talent for smithing. He was said to have built a hammer of gold and other alloys he had concocted, said to be priceless however it’s location was unknown. But Alder had a lead from one of his trusted informants that the hammer was hidden in Kiln.
Alder sneaked into the sleepy village, no guards to tiptoe by not even a stray dog. Alder was expecting at least some challenge but clearly Kiln had gone even more downhill recently. Passing by the few cottages and shops Alder glanced into windows as he passed just in case anything caught his eye. To Alders surprise most of the buildings were entirely empty not even furniture to be found. Out of curiosity he tried a door and was shocked to find it unlocked, this didn’t seem right at all.
The floorboards creaked as Alder entered the dusty home. The sound caught him off guard maybe he’d gotten cocky, this place seemed empty but looks could be deceiving. Alder stood in place like a statue to see if anything would react to the noise. Silence. He carried on investigating but there really was nothing here not even an old bed or an awkward cupboard. Alder hopped out of the window to the building next to him which after a quick search bared similar results.
Though disappointed that he couldn’t fill his pockets while checking the lead on the hammer he told himself he better move on. His target was the graveyard where Brassenbar was said to be buried. Now this was an unusual situation as usually dwarfs were sent to their hometown on death. The dwarves had always been a stickler for tradition and burials out of dwarves territory were rare. However Alders lead believed that he was sent to his hometown and the grave here was actually a cache of his finest treasure.
Though Alder did think it was an unlikely thing to have happened he did find a dwarf burial in a small village odd. Passing a couple more buildings he saw the path that lead to the graveyard. As he approached he could see the many tombstones and one stood out against the others. A huge stone hammer standing tall against the other crumbled graves.
Alder approached the mighty stone and grabbed his crowbar from his belt. Prying open the stone he heard a click. “God-“ said Alder as a red flash hit him in the face.
There is a legend in my village of a tree where wishes can come true. I remember first hearing the tale from my grandmother who told me the tree was blessed by an angel, at the time I believed it but now that I'm older I'm not so sure. Though now I have a reason to search after such a tree, now that I have children of my own.
After my wife and I were married we had our daughter not long after, she's an energetic child and has always been happy and healthy. Our son, however, has not been so lucky he was born with a rare condition one that makes it difficult to breathe. The doctor of our village told me he would get worse as he grew older. It's his fourth birthday soon and I'm scared it may be his last.
I spoke with my wife about the tree saying that if the stories are true then it could help our son. She agreed to let me search for it but made me promise to return before his birthday. I packed a few days rations along with a lantern among other things I deemed useful. As I said farewell to my family I entered the forest behind our home the same one the tree supposedly stood.
I left as early as I could however by the time I found the clearing I was guided by my lantern alone. This place felt different than the rest of the wood, an eerie mist hung about the base of the tree making navigating the roots difficult. As I carefully tread closer to the tree I saw many a message tied to its branches some with string others ribbons of different colours. I took out the contents of my bag searching for the message I had written. Once I found it I tied it to a branch with a piece of twine then I took to my knees to make a prayer.
”Guardian of the forest I beg of you help my son, let him breathe freely like the other children without pain.”
As I finished my prayer I gathered my things and stood up to leave, though as I did I saw something, a ray of light shining through the branches. I felt warm in the otherwise cold forest and I heard a voice.
”I have heard your wish, your son will breathe without pain simply feed him the sap from my bark.”
Awestruck I thanked the spirit barely able to speak. The light faded and as it did a glistening tear of sap began to roll down the bark. I grabbed my waterskin from my satchel and poured it on the roots of the tree so I could gather the sap. With that, a smile crossed my face glad that my grandmother had told me that tale and I left knowing that this would be my sons best birthday yet.
For as long as the kingdom of Aros has stood the mages have been in power. Our society is entirely reliant on magic in-fact, most of the citizens owe their lives to the mages of the Council. I once knew the mages well though I was ostracised the moment they realised what I was capable of. I lost the trust of all the people of Aros that day.
Instead of wallowing in pity and regret I decided to do something worthwhile. When the city of Aros was constructed by the powers of us mages a deal was made. The four of us made a vow to each other that the true purpose of the city would never be revealed, that was about to change. However I would need a solution to the city’s secret and it wasn’t going to be easy to obtain.
Far into the mountains that surrounded Aros there was said to be a relic of great power. No one would dare tread into those lands out of fear for the stories that permeated the city. Stories of monsters, giants made of stone and dragons who swallow you as soon as they catch a glimpse of you. I however know of secret paths to take and tunnels built by the ancient races that no longer exist in this world.
I began my journey into the mountains not long after my exile. It was a trip no one else had made and I knew that my abilities would be integral to my survival. My first obstacle would be the stone giants that roamed the mountains. On rare occasion I would catch an unnatural movement of stone in the corner of my eye, at this moment I would remain still. I waited until I saw the creature move away, I knew stone giants only took interest in movement due to their lacking senses. You see the one thing that would get me through this was my knowledge, something that I valued above my magical abilities.
As I passed the giants I came to the base of a great mountain, this was where a tunnel was hidden. I felt the stones around me until one stood out to me. One of the stones was slightly warmer then the rest I knew this was the answer to the puzzle. By pressing my weight into the stone it began to shift and with a click a passage was revealed. I felt glad that I valued the books in the great library more then my colleagues who when all that they wanted was theirs felt no need to pursue further studies.
As I travelled through the tunnel darkness engulfed me I cast a spell that granted me night vision. The tunnel felt endless but after hours of walking I saw light ahead of me. As I got closer I saw that the light was emanating from a large crystal. This was what I was searching for, this is the solution I was after.