The Great War might be over, but there has still been plenty of fighting. Jajafara grew up on the merchant caravans travelling the deserts, plains, mountains and swamps, and saw plenty of fighting. His family traded mostly in food and raw materials, making them a juicy target for bandits, animals, monsters and and everything in between. Of his family, he was the only one with a talent in healing, so the recovery fell to him. Time and time again they were attacked, time and time again his family drove them back, and time and time again he knitted their wounds together. He did it because he had to, but he felt useless, patching up the wounded. Watching them get stabbed, cut, bit, burned, and shocked while he hid, and waited, and helped as best he could.
And then one day his caravan traded 2 carts of copper ore for a load of books, and a crystal. Old books, from an old temple. Books with secrets. And a crystal that let him how to bend the healing light into radiant fire. To trip his enemies, and deflect their blades. Even how to hold onto the light while wearing heavy armor. He learned how to hold all that anger he had and turn it against his enemies. And guarding the caravan became the thing holding him back, instead of propelling him forward.
So he found his family a new healer, and found himself new friends, ones that might lead him to other old books, and old crystals. And more importantly, ones who might be able to hold their own in battle and truly let his abilities shine.
Relentless fucked around with this message at 00:13 on Oct 2, 2021
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