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[Kolero Duriel]

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The Takuno Islands were rich with beauty and wildlife and things Kolero could not have imagined in his wildiest dreams. But, the lovely scenery of Zento could not distract him. He had a mission to accomplish.

On his return from the meeting with his mother, Kolero passed a trader. The trader could barely break Kolero's deep thought, but then again, there was a small book that was covered in the same symbols as the rings his father gave his mother. The trader, making a comment under his breath about him doing business, and not checking out library books, let Kolero read the first page or two of this book. It spoke of Honor above all things, and the life of a Samurai, one that learns the secrets of Bushido kept in the book. Kolero figured, this book might give him a chance to study early on. He wanted to impress his father, not look like a stupid waste. He bought it, and began to learn what he could from the book.

He was deep in thought, walking through Zento reading the book of Bushido. He was stuck on a particular ability, when he stumbled upon something. Literally. He had accidentally bumped into a man and fallen down. The man looked startled, then smiled. "I... I am sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," said Kolero, while making sure his book was not damaged in his fall. "Not a problem. Here, let me help you up." The man offered his hand to Kolero, and Kolero accepted it. Upon helping him stand up, the man noticed his ring. He pulled Kolero's hand close to inspect it better. "Wh... Erm... Do you know what that ring means?" Kolero asked, suddenly fearful his father played a joke on him and gave him a ring that meant something rather rude. The man looked slowly at Kolero, back to the ring, then back to Kolero again, studying him carefully. "This ring... But you can't be from our lands of the feudal lords. Your hair is..," the man trailed off, eyeing Kolero's blonde hair, which clearly stood out among the darker shades common in the Takuno Islands. "This ring, it is a symbol of living on these islands?" Kolero asked. The man still looked in shock. "No, that ring... It belonged to... You look like... But it can't be..," the man said, his mind clearly running faster than he could speak. "Please, come with me," the man said with a nod. Kolero was wary, then noticed something. The man had a nearly identical ring, though smaller and less ornate than his own, with slightly different symbols. He felt somehow, that he could trust this man.

The man led him to a large building. Inside, many were training with wooden swords, practicing the same advanced techniques Kolero had paged ahead in his book and had only dreamt of mastering. The man quickly led him past the training samurai, upstairs. Kolero quickly noticed an old man sitting in the middle of the room. The man he had bumped into led him to the older man. The man bowed to the older man, and the man returned the bow from his seat on a mat on the floor. "Yes, who have you brought me?" the old man asked. "He wears Isao's ring, m'lord," the man said quickly. The old man looked suprised, and looked Kolero over quickly. "Where did you get that ring, young one?" the old man asked. "My father... it was his... he... Isao, is that his name?" Kolero asked hurriedly. The old man and the other exchanged suprised looks. "Why don't you tell me everything, young one. Have a seat... the tea is almost done," the old man said, gesturing to a mat opposite himself across a small table. Kolero sat quickly, and explained everything he knew to them.

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The old man and the man Kolero bumped into were shocked at nearly everything Kolero had to said. Luckily, their shock faded, as they gradually understood what Kolero knew about random gates and rifts between not normally connected facets. He explained odd samurai helmets appearing months and months before the lands of the feudal lords connected to the odd conglomerate of Trammel, Felucca, Ilshenar and Malas. He snuck in questions about his father, but they replied with more questions about moongates and the lands Kolero was from, and what Kolero knew of his father. Finally, after the tea was gone, and Kolero's voice was exhausted from explaining, the old man sighed deeply.

"Lord Duriel, I hate to be the one to inform you, but after your father dissapeared, he did not return to us, like your mother had thought. From what you told us about moongates, he could be in another land..," The old man drifted off, looking saddened. "After all this time, and all the possible places he could be, there may be little hope for him to still be alive," said the other samurai. Kolero nodded solemnly. He had dealt with sadness for so long, he had become quite adept at keeping himself from tears. That training was coming in handy now, when he needed it the most. The old man stroked his grey beard in thought. "Isao was a strong one, Kolero. No matter where he is, I am sure he is alive. You will see him again someday." The younger man nodded in agreement, then stood. "Come," he said, "Isao has some posessions left. They are yours now." The old man then said, "Yes, untill he returns, they are yours. Good luck, Kolero." Kolero bowed to him, and he returned it. He nodded to the other man, who led him out of the samurai dojo.

He was taken to a small storage house nearby. The man opened a dusty foot locker, then turned and looked at Kolero. "These things are yours now. Use them well." Kolero approached the footlocker, staring at the treasures that lay within. A full suit of samurai armor, with an ornate, ancient looking helmet. Some weaponry, random equipment, and a journal. "However... the armor bears the uniform markings of our dojo, and I cannot allow you to wear it. I hope you understand. The helmet, however was his. You described some like this being found in your lands, but, I guarantee you... This one belonged to your father." The man looked slightly choked up. He bowed, and left the room. Kolero looked over the footlocker again. He took the helmet, and the journal, and decided now was a good of a time as any to begin training his skill to live up to the legacy his father left behind.