Kishii
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Long ago in a farmer town on the border of Thunderforge, Skullhome, and Doomwood, a child was born. With eyes of ice and hair of darkness, this boy was raised as a farmhand by his parents. Ever strict, however kind, his parents raised this boy as best as they could, giving him everything they had. This boy’s name is Asche, meaning “savior” in their language.
At the tender age of seven, he began getting sword lessons from the town’s blacksmith, who helped raise him and look after him when his parents were too busy. He trained Asche had, not giving him a moment of reprieve unless he couldn’t go on any longer.
For Asche’s 10th birthday, his parents and the blacksmith pooled a bit of money they had set aside, planning on taking Asche to a faraway town named Theria. The four of them spent a month in Theria, taking in the different culture of what theirs was, as well as taking in the beauty of the town and the surrounding forest, as they’re home was unable to sustain such beauty.
Asche went off on his own often, always carrying his sword with him for protection. He often ventured into the forest to look at the monsters, drawing them occasionally. One of the days he went into the woods to draw the slimes and frogzards, he noticed a young woman, maybe a few years older than him, under attack from bandits. Before he could see what they were attacking her for, Asche ran over to them as fast as he could, drawing his sword.
“Back off kid, we’re not here for you!” one of the bandits said.
Asche inched forward, trying to get between the girl and the bandits. “Five of you, robbing one girl? You people are cowardly,” Asche spit at them.
Enraged, the one who appears to be their leader draws a dagger. “I’m warning you kid, leave now and I may just let you live,” the bandit said menacingly, as if all he wanted was to skin Asche alive.
Asche smiled at the bandits, taunting them. “I don’t plan on leaving, but you should consider your own advice.”
“You asked for it. Get him, boys!” the lead bandit yelled, and the other four attacked, all pulling out daggers and swords.
In one motion, Asche disarmed them all, as well as knocking them out with the flat edge of his sword. “You’re turn?” Asche asked with a smile.
“You brat!” the lead bandit yelled as he lunged for Asche.
Asche evaded the strike, knocking the final bandit out cold with a swing of his sword. He walks over to the girl who witnessed the whole thing. “Would you like some help, miss?” Asche asked as he extended a hand.
The girl nods as she takes his hand, getting back up to her feet. “You...saved me,” the girl said in surprise, as though she couldn’t believe a child beat five adults so easily.
“Come on, let me show you back to town,” Asche said, pointing in the direction of town.
The girl shook her head. “No, I can’t. I can’t tell you why, not now. However, you have my thanks. Here, take this,” she said as she handed him a magic item shaped like a coin. The coin-like item was black on one side and gold on the other, each side bearing the symbol of light and darkness respectively. “There will come a day when you need this. Until that day comes, you have my gratitude,” she says as she fades away.
Accepting what he’s just seen, Asche put the coin into his pocket and walked farther into the forest, looking for monsters to draw.
Later that day, Asche got back to the inn they were staying at just before nightfall. His father called to the room his parents were sleeping in. Pulling out an odd box from his bag, his father gives the box to Asche. “Open it, son. Happy birthday,” his father says, giving Asche his present.
Inside the box was a beat up medallion, seeming to be ancient in origin, having the symbol of the ancient DoomKnights on it.. When holding it, he could feel immense power coming from the medallion, as well as a beckoning voice. Asche, loving old things like this, was overjoyed, thanking his father for the item.
As he thanked his father, his mother walked into the room with a similar box. “Asche, my child,” his mother calls, “Come and see your other gift.”
Taking the box from his mother, he opens it to see a golden ring with the symbol of the Paladin order on it. Taking it into his hand, power bursts forth from the ring, resonating with him. The burst of magic from the ring subsided soon after it began, with no signs of it ever doing anything. Asche put the ring on, fitting it to his thumb on his right hand. While wearing it, he could feel the age within the ring, that it was passed down over multiple generations. Grabbing the medallion, he put it on as well.
Running to the other end of the room, Asche spins around, as though showing off to his parents. “How does it look?” he asks with a smile.
The medallion hangs loosely around his neck, dangling in front of his pitch black shirt with a single white stripe going up the middle and lining the collar. He holds the ring beside it, almost touching the two.
His parents look him over. His black shirt, black pants, mostly clean boots, as well as his leather mantle. Knowing he wouldn’t be doing much manual work while here, Asche packed his best clothes. His parents smile in approval, telling Asche how much they liked the outfit and how the ring and medallion matched it.
After showing them off to the smith and talking with the three of them for a while, Asche went to bed. They were leaving for home in the morning.
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