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[Aric Stormwood]

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The forest was in a dead silence. All creatures alike wait in silent anticipation for the sun to greet them on the coming day. The air only held a slight breeze pushing off from the sea in the distance giving it a slight hint of that distinct ocean aroma. The ground was wet from the melting snow and allowed the soil to become ripe for planting. The harsh winter had finally been coming to an end. Its icy winds and seemingly endless downpour of snow had ceased. The previous summer had been hard on the people, and in some ways one of the most difficult summers the realm has seen in a very long time. It was not some distant war campaign nor mighty quest in far off lands, it was an uprising like none have seen before. People all across the Kingdom felt the sting within them. They saw with their own eyes the fires and destruction in their own cities. Yet now, colors seemed to be more vibrant than ever. Crisp hues of green were beginning to sprout all over the forest. Birds in the trees began to stir and chirp little by little. Life itself seemed to have been breathed back into the world. The dark forces around the world have held its hand tight around the neck of the innocent and good for far to long. Perhaps now, the good shall rise to show these dark forces that they will not stand for this tyranny any longer.

Among the sounds of the early morning, there was one sound that did not come from the winds or creatures that inhabit the forest. A light rustle of clothing could barely be heard followed by a soft tap every few seconds. A nearby deer took noticed and quickly arched its head up, its ears peeked and the deer stood still but a moment. It was suddenly spooked and darted off into the brush within moments. This brought a smile across the strangers face. For if the deer had some wits about it, it would know that it had nothing to fear from the man. The elderly man was dressed in simple enough attire. He wore a wool robe over his common garb to keep him warm on his journey and leather boots to protect his feet. Upon his head he wore a white hat with a wide brim circling around the cap, which came to a point at its peek. A belt looped his waste with a plain leather satchel on his right hip. The only thing of note was a staff within the left hand of the man. At closer look it seemed obvious that it held something special about it. As he slowly moved through the woods his robe made the slight rustle, while his staff tapped upon the ground as he walked.

As the sky became brighter as morning would soon hit, the man stopped upon a fallen log in a small clearing. He took his seat on the oak log and looked up into the sky. The sun had not yet made its appearance on the horizon but it would not be long now. As the man sat on the log he took his staff and poked it into the soft ground, twisting it several times and made a shallow hole. Taking his right hand he reached into the satchel, moving his fingers past objects most others would find of significant value. Instead his fingers rested upon what he wanted, an object he found the most valuable within the bag. He removed his hand as it was closed around the object. The man smiles and took in a deep breath as he slowly opened his hand and looked into his palm. There in the middle of his hand was a single seed of an apple tree. He let out a quick chuckle to himself and bent over to the hold he had created. Placing the seed within the hold and sticking it into the ground with his thumb. He then brushed some ground to cover it up and set upright again, feeling quite happy.

He steadied himself on his staff and he slowly rose from the oak log. The man was not far from his destination now. Continuing through the forest, he thought upon the previous year and how much sorrow had been caused by the riots. To add insult to injury, he had heard tales from various sects around the realm causing chaos and bloodshed. Other groups of people who by all rights were good people merely stood by and did nothing as these groups laid waste to all about them. Perhaps these good people were unable to muster the strength to stand against them or afraid what would become of them should they stand. This is why the old man had decided to venture from the hidden city against the ways and advise of his people, well from his father’s side. He decided to venture to the heart of the realm. There he hopes to see his dream come to fruition.

Just as the man stepped forth from the wood line, the sun crept over the horizon to greet him. Rays of light bounced over the sea and touched the great city. A smile crossed the man’s face as he finally laid eyes upon Britain. A newfound lifted spirit took the man as he passed the farmlands and neared the western bridge. Two of the cities guard stood upon the bridge. One was smaller than there other by nearly half a foot, both clad in simple iron ringmail mixed with studded leather. The armor appeared used but still kept in good condition. A spear for each of them, one holding it within his hand and the other let it rest upon the bridge. The stranger peered up to the coming sun and then back to the guards.

“Good morning gentlemen, it is good to see this great city once more,” the stranger said.

The two guards look up and smiled and nodded to the stranger, “With any luck it shall be indeed. And what brings you to Britain?”

The stranger perked at the question, “An old mans dream.” He said with a light chuckle.

For the moment the guards thought him mad, “What is your name stranger?” The shorter man asked.

“Aric Stormwood” He said before slowly moving on and into the city. As he passed the guards he simply said, “I am here to make sure darkness never again consumes the realm.” Turning his head to the side, looking at the guards, “And with luck and grace of the virtues, shall find able men and women to stand with me against evil.”