The sun was dim in the cloud filled sky, a cool an almost frigid breeze blew though the city. With a city itself being covered in a thick layer of snow, it was a refreshing change from the sweltering heat, and endless sand that would color the city and perforate it’s every nook and cranny. Sitting down on a roof of a degraded house, with his now snow-covered hair and cloak fluttering in the breeze was Tharos. enjoying the cool winter air, and the sensation of snow melting on his skin. it was a refreshing feeling one that he hadn’t felt in a long time, as it hasn’t snowed like this in many years, it was a change that he enjoyed greatly.
It had been several months since he had been into the archives, it had taken him half that time to read though the information contained in the archives, and he was currently taking a break overseeing his work. Spending the last month setting up the more mundane defenses of the city, and to his surprise most of them still worked. however, at this chagrin the more esoteric of the city defenses, were going to be quite the undertaking.
“Its times like I wish Vartark was here he would know what to do.”
while Tharos was well read in many subjects, he only had basic knowledge when it came to arcane, and unlike Vartark he had no talent for magic. Being born under the sign of Balance and with blessings from the god of knowledge & wisdom, his path in life was chosen the day he was born, including his interests and hobbies. His people despite their many advances in magic and technology, they were paradoxically enslaved by the esoteric such as Astrology and other forms of mysticism. They believed that every single minute detail of someone birth had a profound meaning and purpose behind it, and they would shape their lives around them. personality traits, your skills and talents, what jobs your best suited for, all dictated by fate. there was a level of truth to it, especially when it came to magical affinities. During his younger years this was often a point of contention for Tharos, and he would often question and chaff at his role in life. to always be told by his elders.
“the gods created us in their image, and they made you with a purpose in mind, and this purpose gives your life meaning.”
however, Tharos couldn’t help but wonder if his current predicament was preordained by fate or was just the result of his choices, it was a thought he would have to ponder. Finishing this train of thought.
Tharos sat down dusting the snow off his person. And began to lovely polish his new sword. It was a long straight double-edged blade, and it was made of a metal unfamiliar to Tharos. The closest thing he could think was the metal that the elves or dwarfs used, however it was a much lighter and stronger metal than the metal used for this sword, and its design unlike the eloquent & precise design used by the elves or the durable and rugged designs used by the dwarfs. If anything, this sword was designed to be rather balanced with practicality in mind. As he finished polishing off his new sword, he gave it a few good swings. It felt quite heavy on his wrist and needed a lot more power and force put into his swing, to use effectively. Unlike the swords Tharos was used to, this sword could be used with two hands, meaning one could put greater power into their blows. It was truly a versatile weapon. after several more minutes of swinging his new blade, this time griping the handle two handed, the sword started to feel more natural in his hands. Seeing that his sword arm was up to par, he sifted the sword back into its scabbard, next was a small, rounded shield, made from similar metal that the sword was made from. next where two daggers, and unlike the more curved and smaller daggers Tharos was used too, these were straighter, and bigger, and last but not less was a bow, this bow was of a different design compared to the bows that he was used to, and the arrow flew further as well almost as if they were blessed by the very wind itself.
“These weapons should help me greatly in my defense of the city, however? “
Tharos turned his head and focused his gaze on the sorcerer tower
“that’s going to be very tricky.”
during his readings he found that to activate the more esoteric aspects of the city defenses, he would have to go to the top of the sorcerer tower and activate them from there. However, this was easier said than done, even when the city was full of life, the sorcerer tower was a dangerous place, the magical traps, & defenses killed anyone who was stupid or foolish enough to even come close to it without being invited, and those people where the lucky ones, the unlucky ones where those who encountered the various creatures that the sorcerer had bound to their service. Normally Tharos would avoid that place like the plague, but necessity breeds action, and if he didn’t get the defenses activated what sleeps underneath the city could escape to the outside world, and while Tharos shared no ties to this current age or the people that lived in it, but to dam them to an Oblivion most fowl would go against everything that he believed in and still believed in even after the long millennia.
However, just rushing in was going to get him killed and not even his abilities would save him from certain death.
“With luck, the defenses and traps may have been degraded with time, the creatures however…. “Tharos shook his head at the thought “What if those creatures I encountered in the archives were creatures that escaped from the tower?”
The thought filled him with concern about what could be in that tower. however, acting on assumptions without proof was also a foolish notion. Tharos got up and made his way down from the building he was sitting on, climbing down the thinly constructed ladder made from rope and loosely tied planks of wood. walking through the snow-covered streets and heading closer to the tower. However unknown to Tharos flying high above the cloudy sky, a shadowy silhouette casts its ravenous gaze upon him.
