Background:
The times were good in the small town of Highvale. The small market bustled with activity as the local farmers and merchants chatted and laughed while they sold their wares, preparing for the coming winter. The harvest had been surprisingly good considering the scarce rainfall the summer had brought, and trade had greatly increased now that the King's Road had been extended to pass close to Highvale. The melancholy brought on by the untimely death of their beloved mayor had plagued the hamlet during the summer months, but with time had mostly passed, and the people were in good cheer. They kept the memory of their mayor (friend to most in the town) bright in their hearts, and they welcomed the King's Man into their small town. There had been some murmuring of discontent when the King had assigned a lesser noble to rule over Highvale, for the villagers had always prided themselves on having selected fine mayors themselves, without any interference from the throne. But, random attacks from wandering monsters and roving packs of goblinoids were on the rise, and the people were mostly happy that the King was generous enough to extend his protection. Most people, but not all. One of the most vocally displeased members of the small community, was also its newest.
Baron Milrec Mantis was most displeased with the current situation. A noble whose fortune was on the rise, one of his more recent schemes had failed rather spectacularly and he had come under the notice of the King's spymaster. Always known to be an ambitious man, he had always been considered a minor concern in the grand scheme of court intrigue until the breadth of his machinations was revealed. Upon this revelation, the spymaster counciled the King to grant the Baron the additional holdings he had been requesting. The king ordered the Baron to his new lands along the border with the Hinterlands instead of the lucrative lands near the capital the Baron had requested. Choosing to leave his wife and young son behind in 'civilization' with his parents (the elderly Baron and Baroness Mantis), he departed for Highvale with his brother, a small contingent of house guards and a caravan of engineers and tradesmen. En route to Highvale, they made a small detour and dropped his older son O'Mar off at the school for the Order of Valor, where all the Mantis scions had been educated.
Once the Baron arrived in the village, it was to much fanfare. The villagers greeted their imposed ruler with a wary optimism, and Milrec Mantis greeted them with rough disdain. Refusing to converse or interact with his subjects in even the most cursory way, he set up a small compound from which he would exert his command over his lands while his keep was constructed. The Baron clearly thought the town beneath him,m, but yet he was assigned to the region for a reason. He had a remarkable ability to quickly and efficiently establish an effective military force. His many years campaigning in the royal army had taught him well. The humanoids were advancing, and he was charged to investigate the problem, and deal with it if necessary.
Oren was a rambunctious child of seven years. Constantly climbing trees and buildings or running about screaming like a banshee, he was a terror that was the light of his parents' life. It seemed like a full day's work for Mayla just to prevent Oren from breaking all his limbs in another of his 'adventures'. Days just before the harvest festival were always the worst. It seemed as though Oren was more energetic than normal and it didn't help that the keep's construction was in full swing and offered the promise of many great adventures within its incomplete walls.
Despite the extra effort required to to watch Oren, his parents Mayla and Dryslic Mason were quite happy. The extra work from the keep construction had kept Mayla busy making banners and house symbols, while Dryslic worked as a stonemason for the Baron. With extra gold in their pockets, they walked through the small market, exchanging friendly greetings and stopping for small conversations with some of their friends. They slowly made their way towards the booth of their friends, the Coopers, stopping only to buy small treats to placate their little terror. As they approached a large booth surrounded by barrels of all sorts, a red blur went by them and all they heard was the light noise of two children laughing. Mayla called out to Oren and his friend Curlan Cooper to not get into any trouble, while Dryslic chuckled to himself mumbling something about "boys will be boys".
Oren and Curlan were the best of friends. That is to say, they both had the same interests - Adventure. And, of course, that led them to the keep. Work continued even at night, mostly on the areas that were already largely finished. In the poor lighting of dusk, it was easy for the boys to sneak into the construction area where they began their adventure. Wielding small sticks and the occasional rock, they began their bold campaign against the evil monsters formed by the irregular shadows cast by the incomplete walls. For over an hour the boys ran and scampered and fought the forces of f darkness before they tired of their never-ending battle. As they walked around exploring, they came upon the portion of the keep that was the most completed. About twenty feet above where the boys were standing, torch light escaped from the only window and low indistinct voices could be heard. "Bet you I can get up there and hear what they are saying!" said Oren to Curlan.
"You're on, Oren!" replied Curlan in an excited whisper. This was one of their favorite games, alternating who would attempt the next death-defying feat of climbing skill.
With that, Oren was off! Climbing with a natural grace, he easily found handholds and foot purchases in the unfinished stone walls. Within a minute he was safely perched just below the window’s opening and he began to listen.
"...strike without notice. The King will never expect..."
"...foolish to send me here, to this small cesspool. Did he not think I would seek vengeance?"
"...he must die... Order of the Ebon Feather."
"...poison the heir..."
"Hey Oren, what are they saying?" Curlan called up.
"Shhhhh," whispered Oren but it was too late. A sudden burst of movement came from within the keep and before he could react, Oren was snatched up and dragged into the keep by a man with a nasty snarl upon his face. The Baron!
"A little spy. Do you know what we do to spies on the front, boy? We takfront, boy? We take their eyes and hands then leave them to rot in the field! I cannot afford to have you reveal what you most certainly heard here! Guard, take the child to the square, I will follow momentarily." It was at this point that Oren noticed the cowled man the Baron had been talking to. Something seemed odd about him - he seemed quite large for a man. As the guard dragged him away, the torchlight caught the cowled man's face, and Oren could immediately see that he was no man. A bugbear? An orc?
Oren was dragged to the square, located in the middle of the market and tied to the tall post that stood in the middle. The merchants, farmers, and consumers were all whispering in confusion wondering why a small boy was being dragged to the square by the Baron's house guards. Quickly word of the event spread to the Cooper's stand and the Masons quickly rushed to the square, knowing it must be Oren.
They arrived just as Milrec Mantis walked into the square, surrounded by three of his fiercest guards. Grabbing a torch from one of the crowd he walked towards the restrained Oren and turned to face the crowd.
"I am Baron Milrec Mantis, King-appointed ruler of all territory bordering the Hinterlands! I will not suffer the annoyances of your petty concerns! I am here by order of the King, no more. I care not for your well being, but if you obey my laws and do not interfere with my doings, you will be well protectedtected. This child has violated the boundary of my keep, and has sought to spy on a noble. For that, he shall be punished according to the law."
With that, Mantis drew his dagger and moved towards the bound Oren, while most of the crowd stood silent. "Oren, no!" came an anguished scream as Mayla pushed through the throng and ran towards her only son. "Mayla, wait!" screamed Dryslic as he too pushed through, hoping to stop his wife from doing anything foolish.
But he was too late. As Mayla rushed out of the crowd, the Baron's finely trained guards reacted to an apparent threat and without restraint or pause cut her down.
With a snarl of anguish, Dryslic launched himself at the closest guard and managed to knock him unconscious before he was slaughtered at the hands of another guard.
Having just watched his parents butchered in front of him, Oren went into shock. And it's a good thing, for this way he felt much less pain as the Baron removed his left eye.
Oren woke several days later in the back of a mule-drawn cart to the smiling face of a middle-aged man.
The next few years treated Oren well, considering. He had no memory of what occurred that fateful night, likely due to the shock of seeing his parents die in front of him. His oldest memories were now of waking in the back of a cart, with his Master Joric looking down upon him.
In many ways, Oren was rea, Oren was really only a slave in name. He attended to Joric as a servant would (cleaning, cooking, etc), but he was also given much free time and responsibility. His relationship with Joric was more like father-son than master-slave. For about seven years they traveled the countryside, for Master Joric was part of the Order of Sol, sworn to protect the innocent from the ravages of evil. With the war in the Hinterlands several years cold, Joric had retired from active duty, and he chose to travel and explore the land he had spent so may years defending. As the days. months and years went by, Joric taught the young Oren the ways of the warrior, the ways of Mayaheine the Shield Maiden, patron goddess of the Solarians. He instilled a great sense of honour, discipline, and justice in the young man, tempered with compassion. They had many adventures on the open road, which shall not be recounted here for the sake of brevity.
The years passed, and to Oren it seemed as though they were always searching for something, something that Joric seemed unable to find. Not long after Oren reached the age of fifteen, Joric suddenly decided that the time to settle had come. Spending the last of his reserve wealth, he established a small smithy just beside the Brass Ring Inn in the town of Anuire. He hired one extra journeyman smith by name of Reddick to join Oren and himself in establishing themselves in their new town. Joric's field smithing skskills came in high demand in this town of adventurers after several years, and the smith became quite successful. He devoted his time to training Oren in the smithy arts along with helping him gain a stronger understanding of how to compensate for his missing eye. Oren days were spent in front of the forge, and his nights were spent wielding mace and bow and praying for the divine blessing of Mayaheine. The time Oren had to himself was spent courting many of the young ladies of the village, and in entertaining the younger children such as the twins Constance Abigail and Rebecca Marie, and Reddick's younger brother Tyson.
When Oren reached the age of nineteen, Joric took him aside after the small celebration and told him that the time had come for Oren to learn the truth of his past. Oren had always been told that he was an orphan of the Kingdom, and that Joric had purchased him as a ward until he came of majority. Joric then proroceeded to tell Oren of how his parents died and how Oren had lost his eye, recounting the events as best he knew. Joric then explained that Oren's father had also been a member of the Solarian Order, and had retired when he had met Oren's mother. Joric had arrived in town several days after the disastrous events, and had purchased the young boy as a slave from the ruthless Baron Mantis. While in the service of Mayaheine, Dryslic had been granted several objects of significant power. Specifically, a bastard sword and a shield emblazoned with the symbol of the Shield Maiden. These objects had been sold off prior to Joric's arrival in Highvale. The years of travel had been in part Joric's attempt to recover these items.
As to why Oren had no recollection of what happened to him, Joric could only speculate. Oren had been charged with spying, so perhaps his memory had been altered? Or it may have just been the shock? Joric advised Oren to try to attempt to recover his memories, regardless of why they were lost, and informed Oren that the time had come for him to leave Joric's side and begin his life as an adult. Joric told him of a group of Solarians that were located several weeks journey to the south that may be able to teach him more.
"Son, there are two other things you should know about. Our faith is not widely recognized. It is an old faith, one that predates many of the common gods. Among the general ral populace, we are looked upon as an oddity-worshippers of a forgotten goddess. We, as Solarians, are pledged to protect the innocent from the ravages of the evil minions of Gruumsh, the one-eyed god of the goblinoids and orc-kin. The Shield Maiden has woken from her long slumber, and that can only be because her nemesis, Gruumsh, has woken and again plots the destruction of the world. If you choose to walk the path of a Solarian, know that it will be a difficult one, but a rewarding one! As we traveled, we heard rumors of activity in the Hinterlands, and the goblinoids have been increasingly bold among the border colonies. It is only a matter of time. I, alas, am much too old to fight this war, and it is up to the new generation to take up the banner of Mayaheine and fight against injustice and the forces of Gruumsh. I know, I know - that sounded quite pretentious, but you will forgive an old man, won't you? Come, now. I have something of your father's that rightly belongs to you now."
From an old chest, Joric drew an iron holy symbol emblazoned with the bastard sword, sunburst, two spheres and two runes of victory upon a shield of Mayaheine.
"This was all that was left of your parents' belongings when I arrived. Blast Mantis! Those relics belonged to the Order! There is only one task you must perform before you leave Anuire. You must forge your own weapon. Choose carefully, Oren. Your heart and your fai faith will guide your hand, and the weapon you forge will mirror your soul."
Just then, a shout came from the street and Reddick burst through the door at the back of the shop. "Master Joric, there is dire news! The King is dead! The prince has been poisoned! Milrec Mantis now sits on the throne! Master? Master, are you OK?"
"Oren, the time has indeed come for you to leave. Forge your weapon and prepare to leave by the end of the week. I think recovering your memories has suddenly become more important. Reddick, here is some coin - go buy some traveling gear for Oren here. He will be leaving us soon." Joric responded in a rushed voice. "I fear the evil has already come. Too early... too early."
The process of forging his weapon was by far the most difficult undertaking he had ever attempted and it seemed to drain him both in spirit and in strength. By the third day it was complete. A shimmering bastard sword fashioned in the image of the one his father wielded. It was a plain blade, but a well-forged one.
After saying his farewells and gathering his newly purchased traveling gear, Oren started to head out only to be stopped a final time by Joric. "Good luck, Oren. Mayaheine will watch over you. The group of Solarians that I told you about have moved to the capital in order to swear fealty to the new King Mantis, so you will not be able to join them at this time. I suggest you travel ttravel towards the capital and perhaps you could find a group to travel with. This is important: do not tell anyone of your history with the Mantis family until you can be sure you can trust them. Gruumsh's minions may already be among us, and they will not hesitate to strike a Solarian down. And here - it is not much, but hopefully it will protect you." Wiping a tear from his eye, Joric handed Oren a large spiked wooden shield with a single bastard sword in a field of sunbursts. "It is an old symbol of Mayaheine. Hopefully Gruumsh's minions will not recognize it. Travel well, Oren Solarian, my son."
Three days on the road, and the news reached him. The Solarians had been summarily executed upon arrival in the capital, and the Order disbanded by order of King Milrec Mantis the First. The task of getting his father's sword and shield and regaining his memory had just got immeasurably harder.
