We'll begin this tale with Ferodatz.
Ferodatz was not wont to meddle with the affairs of others. Preferring his seclusion. Practicing the magics he had studied since his youth. Had anyone been around to see his prowess, he would have been a master in their eyes. However to him, there was so much more to learn. A never ending amount of curiosities to revel in. Impossibilities to discover, for he believed nothing was impossible with hard work.
Haha, there was no better a place for such a man to live than the Twelveswood. It was there that he resided, alone with naught but his trusty stick and the denizens of the forest.
Upon one of his expenditures into the Twevlsewood he came upon the aftermath of a battle. "Ixal." he sighed. He had seen them many times in his years, but recently in particular had they begun invading his woodland home more and more. Bandits maybe? Also something he was no stranger too, though infrequent visits they were. No sane man other than himself would venture this deep into the Wood without a very good reason. Regardless, the lost do not survive long in the Twelveswood. "Now to carry the poor bastards" He sighed again, beginning to bury the men. The old man magicked graves below a nearby grove of trees. They would be sufficient for these men.
Having completed his task the old man began his trek to his woodland home. Yet, something caught his eye in the bushes.
Upon brushing as the bush to the side he realized what he'd seen. Another of the dead bandits. A Miqout'e girl, with vivid green hair. The lass had an arrow in her back. She had tried to run, to no avail. Only capable of crawling into the bushes at the base of a tree.
Picking the girl up was only made harder by her being curled into the trees roots. He removed her carefully as he could. The old man realized she had been holding onto something, grasping it desperately. Sure enough, just inside those roots he felt something. "A sack maybe?" He thought to himself as he pulled it out. "It" no "Her" was more appropriate, a child now sat in his arms. The Miqou'te had been protecting her child.
The old man couldn't quite understand what had just happened. He pulled a child out of a tree. That doesn't happen every day. What was he to do? He looked at the now dead mother, and he sighed once again. "I'm to old for this"
The old man buried the dead mother. Taking the child, he went on his way, back to his home once again.
Arriving with child in hand he was no better prepared than he had been back with the dead bandits, if they had even been bandits. He wasn't sure anymore. Regardless, he had to figure out what to do? Should he venture to Gridania on the other side of the forest? Would they even welcome a random child. He just didn't know. The Gridanians aren't always privy to welcome outsiders. He knew first hand from his training at the Conjurers guild many years ago. But what other choice was there? He could never take care of the girl himself, could he?
No. no no no no no. Such thoughts were impossible.
Impossible. He stopped. Realizing how petty he was being. "I have lived my life defying every impossibility I have ever found, why should this be any different." Now he was adamant, he would raise the girl.
Ah, but what to call her. "Zerosion" Something that should not exist, but does.
"A fitting name." He smiled.
And so time goes on. 17 years past.
Zerosion was a calculated girl, despite this her outbursts of energy defied her calm demeanor. She could never quite sit still, much to her foster fathers dismal. Ferodatz had taught her Alchemy, and Carpentry among other things. Well to the extent her attention would allow. But never magic "Your too young" he had said for many years, only to have her do chores instead. Zerosion had grasped the basics of magic just watching her fathers work, but could not actually cast any spells. She occupied most of her time playing with potions and but generally just making a mess.
Ferodatz felt his age. Simply ordering his daughter around was tiring him out. Not enough for her to notice, but enough to worry himself. He was old, and he knew it. No amount of mastery of magic could stop the sands of time. At least no magic he knew, or would even want to touch. He did not have much longer.
"It's time" he muttered to himself, picking up his cane, he walked from his room to his lab. It was only next door. Ferodatz's home was simple, built into the side of a hill, and part of an elder tree.
"Zerosion, come here" The girl was fooling around with some potions. "Your going to blow yourself up one day" he said with a smile. *Hey, i'm not that bad!" throwing a mushroom at the old man. The old man laughed. "Right"
"What do you want?" she asked. "It's time I taught you a little of what I know of magic" The girls ears perked. "Your serious?" a smile forming. "Yes"
And so they began. First with simple Conjury. A simple stone spell, the old mans favorite. And a simple healing spell, and finishing off with a wind spell. The girl learned fast, her years of watching had already given her the gist of everything. It was simply connecting the pieces of a puzzle for her.
"I do believe this is a good point for a change of pace" the old man said. "What do you have in mind father?"
"I'll teach you a little Thaumaturgy now" The old man knew she would need the knowledge of both in the coming days. Conjury was a wonderful magic. Commanding the wind around you, lifting the boulders that you walk upon, and controlling the flow of water were very liberating. But, they lack a certain "power". Not necessarily in strength, but in..malice. Thaumaturgy was about death, not life as is with Conjury. To send lighting, fire, and ice at your foes is to wish them death. You can do this with Conjury, but it is not its purpose.
The old man knew he would die soon, and Zerosion would be alone to fight her way through her life. The forest was changing, he could feel it. The Elementals grew restless, and the he felt the presence of Ixal getting closer and closer. The power of Thaumaturge will only help his daughter stay alive.
"Ok" she said, none the wiser that it would not be long before her life changed dramatically.
A few days past in relative peace, they did their work, practiced some new spells. Fire, Thunder, Blizzard.
"It's time we called it a night Zerosion" the old man said, out of breath. "We've only cast a few spells" Zerosion complained. "I am tired" Ferodatz chuckled.
And he fell.
"Father!" Zerosion exclaimed. "I'm fine, help me up" said the old man. Zerosion lifted the frail man with ease. Helping him to his bed. "Whats going on Father?" "I'm old child, i'm old" "But-" "Enough" the old man sighed. "Everyone's time comes."
"Go to Gridania and seek out the Conjurers guild. You will learn much there." "But I want to learn from you" the girl cried. "And I wish I could teach you so much more, but my time is up *cough* "
"Listen closely. Everything is changing I know. Things, powerful things are threatening the balance of nature itself. The Ixal are coming closer, and the Elementals are blinding themselves in fear. You must go to Gridania, this place will not be safe for much longer. I could only keep the forest at bay for so long. When I pass, the barriers keeping are home safe will fall. You cannot stay here."
The girl was in shock. She could not speak. "Now go and pack your things. We will leave for Gridania tomorrow."
Everything swam, her mind, her vision. "i'm going to throw up" she thought walking out of her fathers room. She sat down by the fire in their living room. Staring at the flame.
Before she knew it, she'd fallen asleep on the floor.
Zerosion woke to a screech. "What was-" *Crack* the door across the room splintered. An axe poking through. "Ixali. Father!" she screamed. Running to his room.
Ferodatz had passed in the night. And the Ixali had walked through the now barrier-less area. "Father" she exclaimed over his lifeless body. *Crack! Crack!*
"Urgh!" She screamed clenching her fists. Anger boiled in her. She grabbed her Father's cane and went to face her foes.
She did not wait for them to break through the doors. She called upon fire, as much as she could. The fireplaces embers roared to life. Flailing outwards. She called to do directing it here and focusing it. She blasted through the door with the fire. Blowing the door to pieces, and the Ixal behind it out into the forest.
All was not calm though, a second Ixal burst into her home. She was ready, already conjuring her next spell. part of her homes stone floor lifted into the air and she sent them propelling into the birdman, knocking it out.
It was over.
Tired and shaken, she lay on floor to rest. She began gathering supplies shortly after.
She left her home, stopping only to pass the grave she had hastily made for her father. She hadn't the time for anything extravagant.
And so she begun her journey to Gridania.-
From here this leads into the Gridanian opening. I do believe you know the rest of the story leading up into the present