Nastrian
A tisket, A tasket.
It was a beautiful day along the northern bounds of Eversong Woods. A small island resided there and was referred to as Sunstrider Isle. It was the main training grounds for all sorts of specializations, ranging from Paladins to Warlocks and Rangers. The island's inhabitants were friendly enough to their own kind. On the northeastern part of the island was a tower where the trainers awaited anxious novices and acolytes to come to them for training in the arts.
Among such trainers was a man named Jesthenis Sunstriker, and he was an elven paladin trainer. He was covered head-to-toe in chainmail armor with crimson gilded plates over some parts of his armor, his chest, forearms and legs mostly. His complexion was that of humans – tan but a little pale. He had bright blonde hair that was bound and tossed over his shoulder, over his chest. His eyes were a sickly green color and ears were upright and pointed at the tips. In his hands, he held a small letter. As he read it, his lips mouthed words that were foreign to anyone who wasn't Thalassian.
In front of him was another elf. The two looked almost exactly alike, except this elf's armor was green-played, his hair was in thin strands over his shoulders, and he seemed slightly younger. Periodically, Jesthenis would look up from the letter to the other elf who would jump to attention each time.
"… Alright, kid. You got me, this is my handwriting, but I have NO idea how it got to you, erm…" His voice was as stern as his visage. He looked back at the paper, bringing it closer to his face. "Nah-st-ree-an…? Nastrian?" The young elf nodded a few times, his face showing obvious hints of nervousness.
"Y-yes, sir! Nastrian Sunshade, sir!" He quickly brought his right arm to his chest, balling his hand into a fist and placing it over his heart. His left hand moved around and behind his back, doing the same but backwards. He was unarmed aside from his armor and his gloves which had studded tips at the end. They were different than Jesthenis', as his red ones didn't have the studs.
"Oh, calm down… Since you're here, I need for you to do something. Well Watcher Solanian is in need of your services. You would do well to ingratiate yourself with him. He awaits you on the exterior platform that the ramp in this chamber leads up to. Well, go on, shoo!" Jesthenis waved his hand dismissively at Nastrian several times until he left.
It took a few minutes for him to climb the ramp, going outside and onto the platform as instructed. Solanian stood there, staring out to the sea. He looked almost exactly like Jesthenis, but he wore dark red robes that were gilded with obsidian and a metal staff with an orb on the end of it. As Nastrian approached, he slowly started to turn around to look at the young elf.
"You'll do. With all the chaos happening here at the Sunspire, I haven't had a chance to collect my belongings I've left outside at various places on the isle. I must maintain my vigil over the Sunwell here, so I'll ask you to collect them in my stead. I need my scrying orb, my scroll of Scourge magic, and my journal. Use this satchel for some extra space, as my things are rather bulky. Return them to me, and I'll give you a little something, you know, for the effort; you can keep the satchel, as well!
"Go, go, get to work! I cannot spend all my day dealing with a daydreaming errand boy!" Solanian pushed the bag onto Nastrian and nudged him off, back down to the ground level of the spire. Nastrian stood there confused. He walked out of the spire, thinking over what he was to find.
"Okay, uh… Orb, scroll, journal. … Where am I supposed to find these?" He growled as he yelled that out, looking around the island. There were a few trees whose leaves were a golden color and a square-shaped building with a red dome over it. In the distance, there were mana-wyrms who were beings of pure magic sustained from an orb inside their transparent heads. Further were some large lynxes with their cubs following and a few living trees that walked around even further off.
About a mile from the Sunspire, there was large structure that hovered above the strait that separated the island from a large rock just off the coast. This place was a place of magic, a giant tower with open platforms. Each platform had a stairway connected to it, the steps of which were not connected to each other but were close enough to step on with ease. This was Falthrien Academy, a place that had been taken over by a magic hungry tyrant and his ethereal beings.
"This… is going to be fun…"