The Melford Four
Drenches Cornelius Radagast Tint
Wizard of Annex
Class: Magic User
Drenches is reserved in his use of magic, usually preferring to experiment using non-invasive spells during combat. This refreshing use of the arts makes him a formidable caster and one not to be simply overlooked. He will always attempt to resolve issues diplomatically before resorting to violence, however is not afraid to defend himself or others if the need arises. Bards tell of his Staff of light, apparently taken from an invading wizard early in his career. This staff lights his way in the dark places and in the same way Drenches acts like a beacon guiding and protecting innocents from the darkness pervading the world.
This relatively young Wizard has seen many brutal battles during his career and as such his body is a patchwork of faded scars. His hair is neatly pulled back from his face and his beard tied neatly with silver thread. His long worn goblin robes discarded, Drenches now favors attire more fitting his position. Pure white robes adorned with magical glyphs, masterwork silver embroidery and scales of the purest of dragonkind shroud his imposing form. Many glistening rings adorn his fingers, each with its own history and power. In his right hand he holds a plain oaken staff crowned with a small clear translucent crystal, his famed Staff of Light. Truly a formidable individual, a warrior of the people and now as a Wizard of Annex finally able to defend his rightful heroic title.
His Story Begins…
Drenches Tint began his tutelage in the Great University of the Academic Arcana located at the heart of the city of Blackwall, which unbeknownst to himself had began to sprout dark, corrupted roots throughout Dragolin. Being an adept student and under the direction of his master Blacklutch, Drenches quickly mastered the basic techniques for channelling and shaping magic. However even the Archmages and masters of the University could not foresee the dark and perilous series of events that would begin to entangle the young mage.
The building shuck violently as one of the west-wing laboratories exploded in a burst of fire and smoke. Drenches had been attempting to magically enlarge his dagger at the time, and instead collapsed in a heap on the stone floor. Standing up, he brushed down his robes, replaced his dagger at his belt and went to investigate. After climbing several sets of winding stairs he eventually found himself hurrying along a corridor blackened with soot. The door to the room no longer hung on its hinges but instead lay twisted and warped in the centre of the corridor. Traversing the door Drenches approached the room. A number of higher ranking mages and even a few elder wizards stood inspecting the remains of the laboratory, however most seemed to be gathered in the centre, each with looks of bewilderment worn heavily upon their wizened faces. Drenches waited patiently by the entrance trying to contemplate what kind of power could have done such a thing. Eventually the wizards stopped manically conversing with one another and turned to regard the apprentice, each with a knowing determination in their eye. They bade him forward.
“There is little questionable doubt that your Master, youngling, is no more. Messing with forces far beyond his reach, he appears to have paid the price, taking your fellow colleagues with him. What troubles us most however, is that the destructive blast that engulfed almost an entire wing of the University and obliterated all that stood in its way, failed to touch that which was left behind”.
The elder mage proceeded to offer something to Drenches, an orb. It felt icy in his hands, but at the same time made him feel safe and comforted. The orb was no bigger in size than his fist and its surface was perfectly smooth. Light reflected off its exterior giving it a purple hue and as he looked deeper he was sure he could catch glimpses of what looked like flashes of crimson light.
“We must ask you to deliver this to the wizards of the eastern lands, they may know more than us. Be wary however, as you yourself surely sense, something stirs at its core. It would seem young master Tint that we have little choice but to forfit your apprenticeship for now, but perhaps you shall return wiser than any of us. Travel with haste our brother”.
On a hill outside the gates of Blackwall Drenches looked back at the City that he had grown up in and wondered whether he would live to see its walls again. Checking the artifact was secure in his pack, he took up the reins and urged his horse foward towards the Eastern lands, where he would discover a new home, a new truth and a true family.