Emrys Direheart 

You’d probably see the blood first—smeared across my knuckles and streaking down my arms. I’m covered in the sweat, the dirt, the bruises from a series of hard fights. But I’ve still got a smile on my face.

 

Name’s Emrys. Stocky, brown-haired, green-eyed—just a farm boy turned fighter with a heart too soft for the ring and a love too deep for the land to ever forget where I came from. I love the people and the land, but sometimes, you gotta do something unsavory for what you feel is right.

 

I never set out to break the rules, but I’ve bent more than a few. I figure laws are fine when they keep folks safe, but if they get in the way of doing what’s right? Then they were never meant for me. I’ll stand in the fire if it means shielding someone who can’t do it for themselves.

 

I grew up on a farm that fed our city—not the fanciest, not the biggest, but our vegetables were always the best. I never thought much about why our crops grew so well. I just knew that when I touched the soil or spoke to the animals, something in me felt… right. Like I was speaking a language older than words.

 

That’s where Algain Woodheart comes in. Druid from the local grove. He kept walking by, seeing the bounty we pulled from what should’ve been average fields. One day, curiosity got the better of him, and he stopped in.

 

He watched for a while. I didn’t think much of it—just another curious type with a walking stick and a knowing smile. But he saw something in me that I hadn’t realized myself. Said I treated every sprout and creature like it mattered. Like I could feel what they needed. We started talking, and before long, he was coming by just to chat.

 

Then one night, we were sitting under the stars, and he lit a candle with a flick of his fingers—Produce Flame. Without thinking, I copied him. Flame in my hand, just like his. I laughed, thinking he was messing with me. But when I looked up, his expression wasn’t playful—it was shock.

 

That moment cracked my world open. He told me I wasn’t like the others. That I’d been working magic without realizing it. That I had a gift and I should do more with it and he could help me cultivate my gift.

 

I sat there, quiet, replaying every moment I’d ever spent on that farm, every strange instinct that somehow made everything grow just right. Then I knew. This was what I’d been missing. This was what my soul had been aching for.

 

“I’d be honored,” I told him. “This is everything I never knew I wanted.”

 

And so I joined the grove. Trained as a druid under Algain’s guidance. Learned to protect the wilds that had always protected me. I chose the Circle of the Moon—not for power, but because if I was going to protect something, I wanted to do it with tooth and claw, heart and fury.

 

When Algain finally told me I had learned all I could in the grove, he didn’t just send me off—he gave me a mission. Something dark was stirring, something that threatened everything we held sacred.

 

“Go to Neverwinter,” he said. “There are answers there.”

 

So I did.

 

And yeah, I ended up in the arena. Not where I thought I’d be, but it paid the bills and kept me sharp. One day I rushed out without my gear—no shield, no sickle. Had to grab a heavy wooden club from the leftovers. A big, awkward, clumsy thing. But I made it work. The crowd ate it up. They said I fought like a wild animal. I guess they weren’t wrong.

 

I didn’t fight to win, not really—I fought to connect. No killing. No lasting harm. Just heart, heat, and earth underfoot.

 

That’s how I met Gundren Rockseeker. He was in the stands, looking for someone worth sponsoring. He liked me—said I had the fire without the cruelty. Said the crowd loved me because I fought like it meant something.

 

He didn’t get rich off me, but we made a good team. He got better seats. Better contacts. I got the kind of access and protection that made finding answers easier. And in exchange, he promised to keep his ear to the ground for any lead that could help me in my search.

 

I’m not just swinging for glory. I’m looking for something bigger—something worth bleeding for.

 

And when I find it… I’ll be ready.