One hero's end is another's beginning

The sun always set early on the people of Cliffhaven. The town's positioning at the base of the cliff was the leading reason, it was never long after midday that the town was thrust into the shadows.

Today was no different, the sun arced slowly across the bright blue cloudless sky, and was due to set beyond the cliff shortly after Kaelan Stronghammer had his luncheon at the local Inn. Halfway through his meal, he could hear a commotion outside, there was shouting, which was not uncommon, but these shouts were full of alarm and worry, which was uncommon.

The townsfolk currently residing in the Inn got up as one, as if they were one unit, and all stepped outside. As the door to the inn opened the Inn inhaled the fresh air from outside, instantly cooling the air inside, and ominously extinguishing the candles beside the door. What was indistinguishable shouting, became clear words as they left the comfort and warmth of the Inn.

“RIDERS FROM THE WEST, RIDERS FROM THE WEST!”

The shout was being repeated over and over as one of the Townwatch ran back through alerting the residents. The Inns walls had also masked the sound of the Town bell which was singing its tuneless song to its unwilling recipients.

There was a level of panic rising in the townsfolk, Kaelan wasn't as panicked as some of the others and ran straight to his shop. On his way there he heard the crash of the weak town gates being forced off their hinges, and he heard the screams of pain from the people of the Townwatch struggling to defend the walls, he was hearing a battle being lost. Before he made it to his shop, the streets were being overrun with bandits on horseback.

With a heroic effort, Kaelan desperately rushed to his shop, in which there were weapons and armour he had made but never had the opportunity to use. Only a street away, sprinting hard, breathing harder, he was going to make it. He was about to make his final turn when he felt a firm boot near the knape of his neck, it sent him sprawling to the floor, the ground rushing up to meet him. He landed heavily, his nose taking the brunt of the impact, he tried to push himself back up, but couldn’t. His arms were too weak and he could still feel the pressure on the top of his back. No, this was new pressure, something small and blunt, like a staff handle keeping him pressed firmly down.

He felt the pressure ease slightly, and taking advantage of the opportunity, he twisted violently, sending the staff off his back and sliding across the floor. Fortunately, the bandit holding it followed, clearly having been leaning his full weight on the now disarmed staff. Unfortunately, where the bandit landed was right on top of Kaelan, and being prepared for this attack meant that the bandit was wearing armour, adding to the body weight now pressed on Kaelan's chest.

Kaelan wheezed as his breath escaped his lungs and involuntary tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes. If there was any hope that he would make it out of this situation, it soon dwindled as he saw a second, and then a third bandit come round the corner at the top of the main street. He gave up his desperate attempt to push the struggling bandit off his chest, as if the appearance of the other bandits had sucked away any remaining fight Kaelan had left in him.

Kaelan watched as the two bandits dismounted their horses and walked over with purpose, the ugly brutes smiled as they got close, one of them had excruciatingly long nose hair, to whom Kaelan dubbed ‘Nosehair’, and the other had ears that stretched out further than Kaelan had ever seen, so much so it looked like they were fake and so got dubbed the name ‘Earwig’, which internally Kaelan was very happy with. The weight that was on top of him simply was being referred to in Kaelans mind as ‘Wilfred’ which he had already nicknamed from ‘Well Fed’ which was his first thought when the oaf fell from leaning on his staff.

“Captured one, have we Douglan?” Remarked Nosehair, with a hint of amusement. Douglan? Kaelan thought, that’s disappointing. Earwig simply laughed and sauntered over, and despite the obvious surrender and lack of defence, Kaelan Stronghammer could do nothing but lay there and watch as Earwig planted a huge kick onto his already broken nose, knocking him out cold.

Pain. That was the first thing that went through Kaelan's mind, or more accurately, his nose, as he awoke from the sleep he was so kindly put to. His arms were bound behind his back and a fist clenched tightly around his heart as he saw that he had been dumped in the centre of what he recognised as the main cavern room of the cave that Cliffhaven was built to protect. His eyes dragged groggily around the room, noticing other limp bodies in the dim, flickering candlelight, who he presumed were other townsfolk, the survivors of the onslaught.

The cavern had two openings both being guarded by two bandits with long halberds and full armour, one path took them back through a few smaller caverns before returning to the outside world. The other was the beginning of a large complex maze of tunnels and caves that very few people knew the layout of, Kaelan was not one of those people.

Once again, Kaelan could hear the far off sounds of a battle being fought, this time though it sounded less like a slaughter. There was less screaming and more metal clanging and swords clashing. Halfway through wondering if there were more townsfolk who had found weapons and made a stand, he noticed the guards' confused looks, and then suddenly the sound stopped. The silence was deafening, the ringing in his ears continuing long after the sounds had finished bouncing off the cavern walls.

The two guards at the entrance leading back outside dropped to the ground simultaneously, Kaelan knew from the way they fell that they had been killed, and whatever had killed them had done so quietly, efficiently and without remorse.

Four people entered the cavern, the first was a ranger, wearing a long cloak and a large hooded cowl, a bow in his left hand, his right hand on the bowstring with two arrows knocked, understanding of the two guards' deaths dawned on Kaelan.

The second through the entrance was a barbarian, he had donned full chainmail armour, and held a long oval shaped shield in his left hand designed with a simple cross, and a steel circular centrepiece. He carried a one-handed war axe in his right hand, and if that wasn’t enough, he had a two-handed greatsword strapped to his back.

After the barbarian came a sorcerer, she was tall and elegant, and held an air of authority as her hands glowed with a red and amber light, like her hands were fire itself. She had a long flowing cloak draped over a thigh-high black and gold dress that was buttoned most of the way up.

Behind her came what Kaelan thought was a cleric, although he had never seen one in person, she trailed her comrades wearing light armour and carrying a small blade in her right hand, her left hand had a greenish blue hue that she aimed directly at the barbarian. She emitted a beam of dim light, so dim that in the sunlight it might not have been visible. The barbarian was encased in that same hue, until the cleric cut the beam off and the barbarian nodded his thanks. A healing spell, in his nineteen years of life, Kaelan had never seen a spell like that be used before. She then repeated the gesture to each of her other two allies, before they approached the two guards who were coming their way from the other side of the cavern.

The four heroes took down the two guards with ease, and then began untying some of the unconscious hostages. Kaelan tried to shout to get their attention for him to be untied, he could try and help more than the unconscious, his shout came out as nothing more than a strangled moan. It caught the attention of the cleric however, and she started to make her way over to him. Her journey was cut short however by the arrival of the rest of the bandits.

His nose throbbing and his eyes watering, Kaelan watched through blurry vision as the bandits rushed in from the second entrance. The cleric returned to her companions, and Kaelan was, for the final time, forced to just watch as the four heroes took to the cave floor and battled the bandits.

He was forced to watch as after just three of the bandits fell to axe, bow and spells, the cleric fell to a vicious sword blow, her armour making a dull thud as she hit the floor.

He was forced to watch as after the eighth bandit fell, the ranger took an arrow to the chest and he too fell, the cloak he wore billowing up before following its master to the grave.

With just five bandits left and the fight swaying in the favour of the heroes, the barbarian got hit with a lucky halberd lunge, finding a gap in his armour at the base of his throat, the barbarian fell amongst a clatter of metal. The sorceress took out the barbarian's killer, leaving her with four bandits.

Kaelan was forced to watch as the sorceress finished off the final three, but as she sent her fireball towards the final bowman, he let his arrow loose. With both attacks finding their targets, the bowman ablaze in an instant flame, the sorceress scrambling at the arrow dug deep into her chest, both attackers fell.

Kaelan Stronghammer stayed laying down, fearing that if he sat, his head may explode from the pain of his nose. So he waited, hoping the townsfolk who had been untied would wake soon, and he, the sole watcher of the fight, could tell the story of the four heroes who saved the town.

He didn't have to wait long before he saw movement and stirring from some of the townsfolk, shortly after that came the cries of shock and muted, muffled conversations. Followed immediately by screams of terror as those who were waking saw the bloodshed that had been the battle before them.

Kyra, the innkeeper, was the first to come to senses and start untying others, she seemed relatively uninjured and looked shocked when she saw the state of Kaelan's face, she untied him and he fell into her arms glad to be in the company of a friend. She asked him what happened, and he told her everything, from leaving the inn to now, he told her about the three bandits who must now be dead although he hadn't been able to recognise them during their fight with the four heroes, which he described in detail to an eagerly listening Kyra.

One of the dim candles flickered and went out, they may have been here longer than he'd originally thought, and the candle was enough to tell him it was time for them to make their way out. Slowly, Kaelan Stronghammer stood, some others around him stood as well, where others just looked his way. He thought about making a speech, but he couldn't string together words that might encourage or sooth. So instead, he walked to where the sorceress had fallen, gently closed her eyes and said a final prayer, sending her safely to the afterlife, following suit with the other three. When he said the prayer for barbarian, the last hero he came to, many of the townsfolk joined in, the heroics of their actions already spreading between them.

About to turn away and walk back to the townsfolk, a soft glint reflected off what Kaelan came to realise was the barbarian's one-handed war axe. It was beautifully crafted, he would recognise the dwarven curves anywhere. He appreciated the design, but there was something else, a magical quality perhaps? That was drawing his attention, like he was entranced, Kaelan reached for the handle and grabbed it.

Shiiiing .

He heard the distinct familiar sound, almost like a background noise as he grasped the weapon. It was the same sound as when he finished creating a weapon, but never having intended to equip a weapon before, he had never seen the words and numbers appear above it.

Level 12 Dwarven War Axe Draining Bleed

Kaelan understood instinctively, suddenly everything clicked into place, all the weapons he'd made for people, the alterations he'd added, the downright strange interactions. It all made sense, he knew who he was, who he must become. No longer just a blacksmith, Kaelan Stronghammer became a hero.