Rise from Ruin

Archebold grinned to the stoic woman as she stepped away and seated herself. She appeared to be someone of exemplary will, not easily swayed. "I was created. The kingdom I served desired perfection in their soldiers. Used magic to shape us...perhaps a little too well. They feared us, enslaved us. It was a rather...unremarkable existence if you ask me. The most troubling part of it all was the acceptance of my kind. I was poised to turn the tide of that war when I suddenly arrived here. Unbound, free will and it's tantalizing lure there for the taking." Archebold tapped along the lionshead knob of his walking stick, leaning forward slightly. "And what of you? How did you come to be? And what is the state of our kind here?" archebold Death is not a defeat. It is a cure.