The realm of Oridus is known for its great kingdoms. From Irongate, the center of innovation and Spelltech, to Thetia, land of frost, many powerful warriors roam the lands, seeking riches and acclaim. Blessed with the power of the Aspects, these legendary figures, known as the Artificers, are the champions of the Gods.
When a threat approaches, the Artificers are summoned to defeat it and cast it back. But lately, the Gods have become silent. No longer do they communicate with the humans below. Because of this, a threat looms overhead, and the Artificers are said to have retreated into hiding.
No one knows what the future holds for Oridus, but as long as there are heroes out there, hope still stands.
"Just what do you think you're doing here, punk!?"
"Relax, I've just come for a round of drinks," Illas shot back at the rude bar patron.
Illas is an infamous assassin plaguing the Skull Isles. Rumors had spread so wide of his flawless executions and grand heists, that merely his name being uttered would scare most into hiding. It was even said that he held the power of the Flame God Neir's Cataclysm aspect.
"You know you're not welcome here, Illas Ren," the patron barked at him.
Illas ignored him and sat at the bar and ordered up some ale. The bartender immediately got to work. Illas wasn't fond of everyone fearing him, besides, he only killed those who deserved it.
"You got three seconds to scram, or else-!"
"Or else what? You're going to kill me?" Illas peered at the patron, "I was considering adding you to my list of targets, Treason Thatch."
The patron stepped back, "Treason Thatch? W-w-who's that?"
"Don't play dumb with the good people of this town, you've been backstabbing every captain this side of Skull Isles' Crossing, and you've earned yourself a special place on my kill list."
"Aye! Lackeys, dispose of him!" Thatch bellowed. Suddenly, four other men get up from their seats and brandish their blades.
"A set-up, huh Thatch?" Illas chuckled, "The manslaughter about to grace this pub is going to sound nice to hear around town."
As the men approached, Illas grasped his twin cutlasses and sliced straight through two of the lackeys' chests, leaving grievous wounds.
"Let me cauterize that for you."
Illas held out his palm, and out came a burst of flames, engulfing the two men, as well as their fellow minions.
"You in for one hell of a ride," Illas said, eyeing the lowlife pirate escaping through the door. Illas followed him out of the bar and watched as he tried running away down the street.
"No need to waste energy," Illas murmured to himself, "I've made enough of an impression on him."
He concealed his blades and disappeared into the crowd.