Heretics - The Prelude: Thardur, The Crossbow

As peace shone on all it's glory circa 913AEF, the birth of Thardur saw no ill omen or great happening, but was equally celebrated, as the eldar cherish every life that comes to join their ranks. It was 97 years after, as Thardur was about to reach maturity while demonstrating an innate understanding for the mysteries in the arkane arts that the shadow of Dunkell Erchffinder made itself present in the west, and his war with the world spread to every corner of Menorias, creeping towards the forests the elvenwatch had so long protected.

Thardur had been caught outside the boundaries of Kalen-Bashô, his homeland, when the forces of Erchffinder raided the Bashorian Woods. Allied arrows rained upon the dark soldiers, but few of the latter fell, sturdy as the darksteel of their armors, fueled by a burning loyalty to their master as only the contraptions of a dark genius can muster. In the otherhand, their barbed darts fell many valiant elven warriors, as their light protections were ill suitted to withstand the wrath of steel spat from the enemy crossbows, in the likeness of things not seen in this world since very ancient ages. Thardur saw it all: arrows that bounced harmlessly in plates of metal against darts fired with enough strenght to crack ancient trees and warriors alike without mercy. Skill wasn't enough, cantrips weren't enough, the old ways weren't enough, for these were foes from a different age and time, like those for which the world wouldn't be ready until several centuries had passed. Incapable of withstanding more kindred blood spilled in the forest floor, Thardur rushed towards the weapon of one of the fallen enemies and seized it. Heavy it was to his arms, cast on metals and shapes unknown to him, but it wasn't the time to ponder as it was to act. Such a power! The aim of the young elven mage was good enough, but the rain of death this craft could muster was something far deadlier and stunning than anything the eldar had ever harnessed. At last, the raid was stalled by the swift intervention of the wandering cavalry known to the hume as "The Lions", led by Ramza Beoulve. Without them, Kalen-Bashô's fate might have been dubious at best.

After the calamity had passed, Thardur found himself on a mayor dissagreement with his arkane tutor, as the former began to question the might of the elven ways against the destruction rained upon his kin by mere gadgets of steel which required so little training, capable of being understood by the average population in dire contrast with the intrincate and deeply personal ways of the arkane arts, which he respected for their might, but which he started to believe were growing stagnant by being chained to the old approaches and ritualisms, beautyfull but inpractical on the matters of life or death, which are decided in the blink of an eye. There was no anger on Thardur's master but saddness, as he felt his student had been dazzled by the quick route to power offered by the crafts of matter and mind of which man, dwarf and gnome were so fond, rude attempts at bending nature in crude ways, paying no mind to the powerfull foundations of reality on the regions unseen to the eye.

-"I fear the taste of cold power bereft of heart has befouled your wisdom by planting a seed of greed in your mind. One who have become sick in hunger for power is not aided by an offer of more of that which will never suffice. Until this cloud of voyd has not departed your soul... I can teach you no more. Leave in peace now, and may the grace of those before you shed light in the path of righteousness for you."

Confused and saddened, Thardur left his master's side and turned his attention to study the craft he had kept as a memento of such a terrible day, eventually joining the ranks of the now decimated elvenwatch as chances on such a position were plenty to study the craft on the battlefield. Many weren't comfortable around Thardur as he carried a weapon of their former enemies, but none dared to speak their mind about it, for they could not denny the craft was a sure spell of doom upon whoever was it's enemy. Uncomfortable himself with such a fact but incampable of denying Thardur's unfailing 9 year service, the master of arms relieved the young eldar from the elvenwatch to join the armies that would lend help in the reconstruction of Ashturias and the pursuit of any horrors that might had lingered in the inner forest realm of Evergreen around the 1019AEF.

Repairing the damage Dunkell Erchffinder left on Ashturias has taken time, and even after 10 years, there is so much to do, and such hasn't been time wasted for Thardur, as he had found other likeminds who had helped him further refine and understand the design of the craft that hasn't left his side since such day 19 years ago, proving more than once it's worth on the hunt of horrors which, many times, were bereft of name. But the hunt goes on, and Thardur Hwarmacu, as he have been benamed by his peers, strives hard to demonstrate his kind the ways of the new ages to come and the fact that they can and must embrace such before it's too late.

-"We were the first, yet the world changes leaving us behind, all because we refuse to move. There is power untapped on the old arts, craft to be unveiled in the mind of men, things that could lead the world into an age of might bereft of peer. Still, you cling to your ways of wood and string. I say let's seize the power of the new age and regain our throne as the first! Let us become the hunters lest we become hunted into oblivion by time itself!"
Thardur, The Crossbow.