Hoard of the Dragon Queen [tadley/basingstoke]
Thin but muscular, Nemo stands in his teal coloured cloak used for camouflage and at night a bed. Slow to anger, but when angered dangerous, he is short in height for a human, and easily overlooked, and underestimated. Unassuming, but understated, both in his quick darting eyes, taking everything and the magical power he is capable of wielding.
His young tanned face from his time spent in the woods, is curtained by long white hair, which is at odds to his black goatee.
The day started as any other. The birds waking the hamlet with their early birdsong as normal, shortly as the Sun peeped it’s eyes over the horizon. The gradual sleepiness of the inhabitants ebbing away, as the woodland sprang to life having had a hiatus through the crepuscular period between night and day.
After a bowl of stewed oats, the little voices were dragged to the well for a sponging off, which was something that though they were accustomed to was the dreaded thing that was best avoided in their eyes. Soon after this discourtesy, they were free to play around the hamlet and the nearby wood. The only proviso was that they were to return when the sun had reached it’s peek, and under no uncertain terms well before dusk had begun to fall.
The wood was alive through the day, and the two little children made the most of it, practising archery, aiming at various birds and small mammals. If ever they brought home something they knew there would be a great reward of praise from their parents, but with the exuberance and excitement of youth this was rare. The morning went quickly, with the children returning as required around the time the sum peaked. They set off back to their home, avoiding old man Jake’s house. There were many rumours around the old man and why he stayed away from the general folk, and as children they had heard them all, but Nemo and Celia knew. They had often done what they could to spy on him from thickets around his home and every time he knew they were there. They played the game well, on both sides. He’d know there were there and would look straight at them, before he would start. The children would gasp audibly, but would remain unseen knowing he could ‘see’ them. They would see him turn to his concerns and utter the incantations of a wizard, whilst holding his arcane focus – a wooden orb, centred around gems of untold wealth when compared to the worth of the village.
They daren’t tell the grown ups they were wrong when telling them the stories they heard, but they knew, and from the smile he gave them when he looked through the bushes at them, they had as little concern as he had at their knowledge.
This particular day, something was different.
Having spent so long in the woods I had become accustomed to the noise. Usually I, or my older sister would be the noisy ones, scaring away the wildlife, but we were learning the benefit of silence. We could run barefoot, with keen eyes to avoid the sharp thorns and dry twigs, which would other wise crack underfoot. The wildlife had better watch out – we had raised our game.
As soon as we neared the edge of the wood, the quiet of the animals was missing and in it’s place were the sounds of shouting and crying. The usual smell of wood smoke remained, but stronger, and lighting up the village were the flames of our homes endangering the nearby forest in which we lived, and depended on. Mary told me to return to safe place – hiding behind a trunk of a fallen tree. I stayed there, hiding as she went forwards into the terror. Shortly after I heard a scream – I knew it was her instantly. Stuck there with fear, I had to move, had to save her from this evil. I got up and ran through the village. It was only to reconnoitre the situation so I ran and I ran fast. There was a group of individuals, some wearing strange robes, and all with painted faces – white with black lines – war paint. I was scared. In my heart I knew I could do nothing, I had to go back for my family, but…
It was later that evening I returned, and cried. I had never been so alone. I had never been so lonely. I don’t know how long I was there, but some time after dark, with the drizzle mixing with my tears, I was wrapped up in a cloak, and carried away. The soothing voice talked to me, and, eventually lay me on the warm hearth of a homely fire.
Old Man Jake, became my saviour, and was where I studied my trade – that of wizarding until
That hearth was to become a regular place where I would sit, study and fall asleep so many times. My first subject of study was indeed to set the fire, and my mentor would coach me to the finer arts of wizardary. Upon my 21st birthday, Old Man Jake gave me permission to act according to my desires, whether that was to stay or go with my new skills to develop them whist searching for my true family. Though I owed the old man and his wife much, my decision was…