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Tragic's Wake
Break The Silence
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The old hall, tattered banners flutter, cobwebs of memory dangle through his sight. The beauty of this place crushed by battles continuous struggles against ancient demons. Lingering forces of despair lurk in shadowed corners. He looks around his dwellings and realizes this is not where his quest leads. This hall, the shattered dreams of conquest, of power. These things are not his way. The noble calling, the sacrifice, the struggle. These are what he learned, and the way of the code. He is lost because he hides. He lost himself in the walls of a faux fortress. This shattered place keeps no enemies out, it just keeps him locked in. Locked in with memories, caged with a past best left, not continued into this present. It is time to leave the lands of his fathers. It is time to find his own lands, his own place. These places of old are ending his life. The past afflicts his soul like a vampire. Draining his life force through the siege of memories.
He walks the halls looking at frayed tapestries. One last glance and he takes up his gear. The sword, forged in ancient times, he takes it up. Boots, covered in the dust of travels of old placed upon eager feet. The armor, soul forged and blessed, covers his heart. The quest will take his eyes to new sights, his feet to new paths, his ears to new stories, and his heart to new loves. He takes one last look back and begins again.
