Evan Graves was born to a family living on the edge of a small town called

Autumnholme. His father, Desmond Graves, was a humble but moderately

successful blacksmith specializing in weapons, which he sold to the towns guardsmen
and the occasional traveling adventurer. Evans mother was a spirited witch named
Evangeline Winterdusk. Recognized more for her green thumb than her mystical
practices, Evangeline had her own business as well, peddling potent herbal remedies but
also offering simple magical services to the people of Autumnholme (barring the more
superstitious citizens, who cast constant scrutiny towards Evangeline and her family).
The last member of Evans family was his sister Devon Graves, four years his
elder, who was a bold, self-sufficient, and beautiful young woman. She assisted their
father in the forge and in taking their crafts to market in the nearby city of Deleron.
These trips lasted several days, but the roads were safe and the weather mild in the
region, so they were an adventure Desmond didnt mind bringing his daughter along for.
In her free time, Devon ventured into the surrounding forest with her loyal wolfdog
June to explore and fetch whatever natural reagents her mother might need for the
days cooking or her next brew. There, she and June would wrestle and chase each other
for hours a day - quite a feat, given Junes impressive size and strength - before
returning home, sometimes with a small treasure in tow.
Evan, on the other hand, was a small and quiet boy that preferred to spend his
time if not reading alone, then with his mother, tending her magical garden, helping in
the kitchen, or aiding in rituals. In spite of the boys aversion to more physical activities,
however, Evan was frequently recruited by his father to join Devon in the workshop. It
was Desmonds hope that his son would one day take over the business, a fact which

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filled Evan with dread. Whereas his sister was a quick learner and strong of arm, Evan
never quite got the hang of metalwork, and more often than not, left the shop bruised,
singed, and disheartened. Desmond, too, was disheartened by this, more for Evans lack
of enthusiasm than skill at the trade. Still, if you were to ask Desmond if he was ever
disappointed with his son, the father would answer without hesitation: Never. Even if
he wasnt the most naturally talented smith, Evan always tried his hardest, and he
certainly never quit. In part, this was a character trait of Evans, but the desire to please
his father compounded with this innate willfulness to produce a very persistent
apprentice.
Because of the stigma attached to her craft, Evangeline was often distrusted by
her neighbors. This negativity manifested in a number of ways. Some people simply
chose to avoid her, refusing the services she offered (which ranged from home cleansing
and wound treatment to exorcisms and divinations). Others, however, werent above
outright harassing her family. Evan was often bullied by the other children in
Autumnholme, and frail as he was, he could do little to stop them.
Rather than approach his parents with this for fear that they intervene too
harshly (his mother was a witch, after all), he would tell Devon. Though she was
kindhearted and avoided starting conflicts, she would always come to the defense of her
brother, and her physical strength and intimidating presence were quite effective tools
for dealing with bullies (she had a reputation of ending up in, but winning, fistfights in
her teenage years). Before long, anyone who knew of the Grave siblings knew it in their
favor not to have a problem with them.

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In the days leading up to his fathers 37th birthday, when Evan was 13 years old,
Evangeline, Evan, and Devon decided to craft something special in collaboration for
Desmond. Evan was to forge a dagger (he insisted he be the one to smith it - his sister
promised him the meat of the work) that his mother would then enchant, to be
presented to Desmond when he came home from the market trip.
After hours of toiling in the heat of the smithy for several days in a row and many
failed starts, under Devons supervision Evan finally managed to produce a simple,
straight-bladed steel blade. Devon finished the hilt, inlaying in the center a single, round
stone of blue agate she collected years ago while playing with June in the woods, and
wrapping the handle with dark leather. Finally, Evangeline traced with silver down the
length of the blade sigils storing magical energy. By the conclusion of its creation, the
end product was assuredly a masterwork, and to Evan, it was the most beautiful thing he
had ever had the opportunity to participate in the making of, and for many years after he
would hold it as his greatest achievement.
On the night of August 1st, two days before Desmonds birthday when he was
expected to return, Deleron was attacked by a dragon. The city, situated on the banks of
the Viris River, is composed of several districts that developed around what started as
a waterfront settlement. That initial point of growth is now the trade district, where a
large variety of goods and services are available, including lodging. It is easily the most
populous area, and when the dragon attacked, it was laid to ruin, killing hundreds. The
residents of Deleron knew of a dragon living in the swampland to the south, down the
river, but there was no precedent for an attack on the city. As a result, the citys
defenses, those that could be mustered, were entirely ineffective; the alarm bells had

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hardly begun ringing by the time the dragon had taken flight into the darkness once
more. Damage to the rest of the city was minimal, mainly resulting from fires that
spread in the panic.
News of the tragedy reached Autumnholme the following day. Residents of
Deleron and the neighboring towns were warned to stay within walls and off roads until
such time that the threat the dragon posed could be properly assessed (in the words
of Delenors governor). Evangeline knew there was little hope of Desmonds survival
when she heard the fate of the trade district. With the date of what would have been her
partners return imminent, she couldnt wait very long before her children would ask
what happened to their father. That night, tearfully, she revealed what had happened.
The inn where Desmond was staying for the duration of his trip was destroyed, and no
bodies could be recovered from the wreckage.
Shocked, Evan almost immediately began making plans to travel to Deleron by
himself, grabbing his rucksack and shoving in dried meats and crackers from the pantry.
He couldnt believe his father wouldnt have escaped in time - if there were no bodies,
theres no proof he didnt survive. He had to have survived. Devon, meanwhile, was
doing all she could to stay calm. She didnt want to believe her father was gone, but she
knew her mother wouldnt be wrong, not about something like this. She got up and tried
to stop Evan, who was tearing apart the house looking for the medical supplies
Evangeline kept stored in case of emergency. Heedless of her pleading, he charged out
the door barefoot. Devon caught him by the arm and though he struggled, he couldnt
break away as she pulled him into a tight embrace. There in the doorway, the night
before their fathers birthday, the siblings cried into each others shoulders. Evangeline

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cleared her eyes of tears and gently pulled her children back into the house. She would
mourn, but not now.

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Five years later:

Evan manned the forge on his own. He never wanted this, but with his sister
away so often, it was up to him to keep up the business. His skill in smithing had grown
considerably since he made the dagger for his father so long ago, but he was still
nowhere near as capable as he felt he needed to be to honor Desmonds legacy, a belief
supported by the reduced income. It was largely thanks to Devon that their family, or
what was left of it, was able to maintain their comfortable lifestyle.
Two years after Desmonds death, she and June left home to pursue adventuring.
By then, Devon knew that Evan was capable enough to operate the smithy on his own,
but not well enough to provide for the four of them. She would have to either take over
the forge herself or find another job; she chose the latter, in part because it was simply
the best allocation of energy (unlike her, Evan did not have many marketable skills
beyond blacksmithing). Deeper down, though, she had the feeling that leaving home was
what she had to do all along, or was even meant to do.
In the two years leading up to her departure, whatever time Devon wasnt
devoting to teaching and helping Evan in smithing, she spent training herself. The forest
that she used to play in became her hunting ground as she became proficient in tracking
and handling the beasts that lived amongst the trees. She took to spending time at the
local tavern and inn, engaging travelers in conversation with the hope of learning more
about adventuring in the world beyond Autumnholme. She even taught herself to shoot
a bow, which she obtained by challenging an arrogant ranger to an arm wrestling
competition. He humbly accepted defeat and offered the bow, but not before
propositioning her; though admittedly flattered, she was uninterested in any man whose

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ego outmatched his ability and quite literally managed to throw the indignant man out
of the tavern.
Evangeline of course witnessed her daughter growing up, spending more and
more time away from home. She had anticipated Devons leaving for many years.
Evangeline herself was once an adventurer (Evangeline fancied herself quite the heroine
when she was younger) and knew the spark of restlessness that impelled one to venture
out into the world - the romance of traveling, the satisfaction of self-sufficiency, the
thrill of danger. So though it pained her to see her family further splintered, she couldnt
allow herself to restrict Devons freedom to pursue the life she desired. After all, she
would still have Evan at home, who did not seem to share the same adventurous spark,
for which Evangeline was quietly grateful.
And so every few weeks or months, Devon returned home bearing gold and gifts
for her mother and brother: magical trinkets and rare herbs or seeds for Evangeline, and
books for Evan, over all manner of topics. Some were even written in foreign languages he relished the challenge they presented, but never could fully decode them (a fact
which didnt stop him from trying). The visits home were always a happy time for the
family. Even Evan, who had withdrawn even further into himself, becoming a very
reticent and brooding young man, was more spirited and talkative with his sister
around.
Underneath his reserved demeanor, however, Evan was in turmoil. He had
become deeply unhappy since his fathers death, filled with anger. Ever since the dragon
attacked and he was forced to go on the market trips with Devon to Deleron, he had
hated the loud city and its foul people. Most of all, he hated the citys governor, Aldrich

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Fernhowel. In the years since the dragon was last seen, when the governor promised
to deal with the threat, very little real headway had been made. A single party of
adventurers had been hired to investigate the swamp, and when they returned emptyhanded and with no evidence of any creature more threatening than a particularly large
dire rat, the governor ceased all efforts. The dragon only attacked once, after all, and
with the trade district needing restoration, why waste resources? In Evans eyes, this
was unacceptable. Dragons dont simply disappear! His fathers killer and a threat to his
home remained at large, and the authorities with the power to deal with it saw the cause
as not worth the lives and resources. Every time Evan made the trip to Deleron and
saw Fernhowels mansion on his way to the trade district, he spit curses under his
breath.
Adding to this anger was the constant self dissatisfaction his profession gave him.
He didnt resent his sister for being a better smith, nor was he jealous that she had more
freedom to choose her career. In truth, he was happy for her, but without Devon, he
simply wasnt a good smith, It was Evans perceived duty to live up to be the man
Desmond always wanted of him, and he was failing. His weapons were of poor quality
and business had never been worse. More than ever, he felt the need to prove himself by
finding vengeance for his father. If Fernhowel wouldnt give it to him, then he would do
it himself.
On the night of the fifth anniversary of Desmonds death, Evan left home.
Equipped with an oversized leather jerkin purchased from a leatherworker in
Autmnholme, a traveling pack filled with rations, a small oil lantern, and the dagger he
made for Desmond, he set out for the swamp to the west. Evan knew he was

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underprepared to face a dragon, but he had stopped caring about practicality. He would
either live or die, but either way he was done doing nothing. Before he departed, he
pushed a tear-stained sheet of parchment underneath his mothers bedroom door. On it,
in his sharp and sprawling handwriting, he had written a note to Evangeline:

Mother,

When you read this, I will already be gone

I may return, I may not, but I need to tell you
Im sorry
For leaving, but more than that, Im sorry for not being more
I wanted to be a better brother and a better son
I dont want to hurt my family, but this I do for myself
If I dont make it back, please tell Devon
Perhaps shell succeed where I have failed

Evan

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Evangeline woke with a start. The house was silent. She closed her eyes and
breathed. Nights werent the same without Desmonds warmth in bed next to her. Her
sleeping only got worse when Devon left with June. The sound of the vigilant wolfdogs
pacing around the house, always on the lookout for a threat to the home, was a comfort.
Devon was a silent sleeper, only occasionally audible when sighing in her sleep. Even
then, she was hard to hear over Evan. In contrast to the boys waking quietness, he was a
raucous snorer. One could always hear him from any room in the house
She jumped out of bed and ran to the door, panicked.

[To be continued]

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