Alas, our story begins with a mischievous little girl. Her name was Zyardran, as you can already guess. She was unique, thought often times too curious for her own good. If you're wondering how this story will play out, have a seat, and I'll tell you the tale of how the Pyrocloaks came to be. Young Zyardran was out in the woods one day, wandering, when she came across a young elf boy, his name was Niels. Zyardran, curious as always, became vastly intrigued bye this boy. He had no family to look after him, and so he lived in the woods. They would share stories and play games, until one day, Zyardran was followed by her mother into the woods, and found the two playing together. So it became that Niels and Zyardran were adoptive siblings, so Zyardran's mother's kindness will always be remembered by them both.
Years later, Zyardran was out collecting herbs for her mother, for she had grown dangerously ill. Niels had stayed home to look after her while Zyardran quickly searched for what she needed to sooth her mother into sleep. She was learning the herb trade, and while only the age of 14, she was very skilled in medicine, and battle. She was aware that day that someone was watching her, however. It had taken a good portion until he came out. A challenger, if you could call it that. He waved his staff and shouted nonsense, before Zyardran agreed to fight him. So they fought, a tough battle some would say. By the time the fight was finished, they were both exhausted. He called himself Dusk, wielder of twilight and spellcaster of stars. She had offered him a cup of tea at her home, and he kindly agreed, having not been bested, but happy for the challenge of combat she provided. Though, Zyardran had always thought magic was a strange way of battle. No matter, let us move on.
T'was the day of her 15th birthday, however there was no rejoice. Zyardran's mother had died overnight. Terrible timing may say. She and Niels had agreed to take turns doing what they could to survive out on the border of the forest and the city. Dusk would often come by and check on the young siblings, often times staying overnight to make sure they were alright. Zyardran, in her young age, had terrible nightmares. She'd often stay up nights at a time in fear of what she saw in her dreams. T'was the evening before the leaf fall festival. She had run into a charming young man about her age. He called himself Kirb, knight of strength, and wielder of steel. They had met up just a few days before hand, and alas, such interesting visits often left the two adolescents walking away with a smile on their faces and hope that one day, they could work together to be the best possible team all the land could witness.
It was the midst of snowfall on the night of the full moon. Zyardran could yet again not sleep from her nightmares. This one was different, however, this one felt real. Somehow she could not shake the images from her mind, so she had gone out for fresh air. She inhaled deeply, letting the frosty air sting her nose and fill her lungs. Refreshing. There was something in the distance. A caravan? Not likely, there was yet only one horse, and one man. She called them over, but they didn't seem to hear her. Disappointed, she ran out into the snow, instantly regretting, as she was not in possession of a coat or cloak. She called out again, this time the man perked his head around to look at her. He looked young, rather handsome, but it was an instant in which he trotted his horse over to meet her in the snow. Alas, conversation arose, and she invited him in for some food. He looked weary, alas, who was he to turn down food. He told her he had taken the side roads often, however this particular night there were wolves along the path to the city, so he had taken a detour. They had agreed to meet up several more times, until finally, on her 16th birthday, he wrote her a poem for such occasion. Zyardran invited him to come stay at her mother's house for a few days. He disagreed, however they still visited. Thus their relationship as friends grew, thus they became good friends.
He had come to her door in the middle of twilight. He was weary and hungry, in need of help. She had given what she could spare for the poor sod, and in turn, he offered her a place in the royal court of Baric. She turned it down, had she not been part of her own family, she would have thought about it. But she was part of something she believed to be bigger in cause. She wanted to go out and create her own city some day. Though whether Baric allow it or not, she would have dared venture out in search for land to start. She could not do it alone, however. He agreed with her on a few things, Baric was very power thirsty and violent. Though he did not enjoy it, he was still a Baric citizen. He had agreed to keep her will quiet on the matter. He called himself Valer Ianf. A charming name indeed. He payed visits more often, and thus the became good friends, perhaps even allies.
Thus the tale of how Pyrocloaks came to be, thus a small story, as not to bore you with it all, thus an enjoyable tale for many, may it bring you good ear in the future if you decide to pass it on.
