Jarin Bardel

My name is Jarin Bardel and I’m a wizard. I come from a place you may have heard of called the United States, more specifically Colorado. My grand father who was like also me, a mage, raised me. I spent nearly the first twenty years of my life growing up in this small town until one day my grand father took me to a special place he called Mastil. Mastil is a magical land very different from the land you live in now. Machinery is not as common nor is some of its luxuries, well that is for the common folk. For someone of my talent it is an even better place than most. I, like in most stories you may have may read, can call upon lightning, turn invisible and even fly to name a few things.

My story begins not in Colorado but in my present time in Mastil. I live in an enormous forest called the Willow Wood. It was once a much larger forest but over the years it has been decreasing in size. Mostly due to the local inhabitants but also due to lack of proper care, you see most forests have a natural pomposity to self regulate. As trees grow they block out the sun from the scrubs and brush below them. The brush, the ones that survive, finds ways to adapted and over come. Some vines survive by using these trees as a way to climb, to make there way to the life giving sun light. For some reason the forest had lost its ability to adjust to these changes.

Well my home is made of wood and rather small. I tend to stay away form many of the local inhabitants due to my compensity to scare them. This is not something I do on purpose and those that have taken the time to get to know me can attest to. My house is similar to the log cabins you may have seen in Colorado. It is two stories and well kept, I’m a bit of a neat freak. The windows have glass in them, much better than the glass seen in most towns in Mastil. I have a small barn where I keep several horses, a cow, chickens and a Bull.
I’ve lived in this house now for at least two hundred years, maybe longer. During that time I’ve been able to make it into a nice home. I’ve had several people live here with me but most have died of old age or moved on. My only companion as of now is a man by the name of Tiliek. He was a cooper smith until he lost is hand in a bar fight almost twenty-five years ago. I met him in a small village near my home called Tillin. He was sitting at the tavern having ale when several of the local inhabits entered and began to hear of his tale. He was living in Brill, the capitol, when a group of thieves had been practicing their trade. He tried to intervene and lost his hand and his store in the process. After the loss he decided to head north and get away from big city life.

As he finished his story and most of the others left I approached.
“Mind if I join you?” I say looking down at his table.

“Sure, do you mind buying me another ale? I have grown thirsty telling my tale and have little in the way of money after such a long journey.”

I wave over to the bar maid and signal for another round. She nods and heads off.

“Your tale is a sad one. Do you have plans for work in these parts yet? Oh sorry my name is Jarin… Jarin Bardel.” He nods and tells me his name.“ I’m sorry for being so impolite. I am currently looking for some help. I have to admit that most of it will be labor intensive and some cleaning also. I have a small cabin about two days form here.”

He looks me over again and smiles.
“ I guess that I could use some money, how long do you need help for? As you can see some labor may be difficult.” He raises his stump. The arm is amputated at about mid forearm. “ But if you have work I’ll give it a try.” One of the other patrons coughs and mutters something under his breath. As I turn to look at him the waitress brings use two more mugs of ale.

As I take a long draft of my ale I look over Sam. He stands about six foot, tall for a common man. His hair is a mess, black and long. He wears a goatee, which looks more like a beard from lack of upkeep. He is in much need of a bath. His clothes are also on there last leg. Pants have several holes in them and his shirt is browner than its original white.

“Well I plan on leaving in the morning if you’re interested? I’ll check in here at breakfast and then head out.” He nods and I depart.

I head over to a local friend of mine. We have been close since she was young. She is about nineteen now and very attractive. She has raven black hair and normally keeps several braids in it. Her dark complexion tells of her Leas background a deep tan almost olive tone. She works as the local trader and owns one of the only two buildings in town. She came to town with a hefty bit of coin and used most of it to build her store. The other building being The Crows Nest, the tavern I just left. As I make my way there the sky has the look of another storm. Less then four days ago, on my journey here, a small storm hit dropping about four inches of light snow. Looks like another long, wet ride.

The outside of her house shows little. No light can be seen from where I stand and the steps have yet to be cleared from the snow earlier in the week. Samantha uses her store as a dwelling also. The upstairs is filled with boxes and crates; extra supplies for sall and a small bedroom and kitchen. I flow a little essence over the stairs in the form of heat, just enough to melt and dry the steps with out causing damage to them. The door is locked and as I peer into the window I can see her cat run out of sight. Odd I wonder where she could be? As I turn to leave a women approaches.

“Sam is out of town for a few days. She had to pick up some supplies. Something about a few special items, I can tell her you stopped by if you like?” I give her a brief smile.

“Sure that would be great.” I make my way to the back of her house once the women leaves. The womens name is Macy and she is the local gossip. She loves to start and spread rumors. Sam said she also some times sell her body to make some extra money but only to travelers passing through.

The back door is locked but not hard for a wizard to open. Little essence and click the lock opens. The cat, Tawny, runs out before I could slip in. Oh well, I’ll get her latter. The backdoor lead into a storage room of sorts. I remembered the general layout but thought it might be better to confirm the current arrangement. I flowed some essence into my palm and held it up. The light just bright enough to allow me to stumble along, I make my way to the door that leads into the shop. What was that, was that someone up stairs? The sound of a foot fall from up above catches my attention