Kinzdor
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CHAPTER 1
2 years Kinzvlle had spent studying under the mage on the hill. Now he stood looking out the window as moglins ran around sweeping and dusting. A nearby moglin village had been destroyed by a advancing army of monsters, Kinzvlle`s master took in the poor moglin`s. In exchange for shelter, food, and a good life for there young they would do choirs around the house. Kinzvlle turned as he heard the oak door of his master`s room creek open. A pink furred moglin walked out. “Is he any better?” Kinzvlle asked fearing that he already knew the answer.
“No, none of the moglin healing rituals seem to be working. These could be his last few days, before he joins the reaper.” The moglin sighed sorrowfully.
“May I go in and speak with him?” The moglin nodded. Kinzvlle entered the room. “Master, May I speak with you?” An old frail mage leaned up in his bed and gestured for Kinzvlle to come forward.
“Ahh Kinzvlle, my favorite student. Please so I know that I did my job well tell me 3 things that I have taught you.” Said the old mage looking starry eyed up at Kinzvlle. Kinzvlle stood there for moment thinking.
“Hmm well certain Archmagi can revert there mana flow so that there ability to regenerate mana is limited to there natural capacity. There was a group of powerful mages in the past who were known as the Order of ArchMages, who were destroyed in the same coming of The'Galin. Hmm one more thing hmm oh yeah! Mana has an elemental affinity for one or more of the 8 primary elements. A spell is a template or psychic construct for channeling this energy.” Kinzvlle explained proudly. The old mage smiled as his eyes sparkled. He clapped his hands.
“Very good, very good. Though there is still much more you need to learn.” He said while holding a scroll out to Kinzvlle. “Take this scroll of recommendation and my spell satchel. Then ride to the place were you knew to go when you first came! FIND THE ONE THEY CALL WARLIC!” Shouted the old mage before his head fell back, and his eyes rolled into his head. Kinzvlle burst out of the room weeping. He grabbed the satchel, mounted his steed and made his way to Battleon.
When he made it to Battleon he halted his steed and entered the magic shop. Without saying anything he handed the scroll to Warlic. Warlic looked it over. “Hmm I see you’re master was a good man. I shall set up a cot for you in the back room we shall begin you’re training first thing in the morning.”
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