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Spellbreak Wiki
1,252
pages
Explore
Main Page
All Pages
Interactive Maps
Articles
General
About the Game
General Gameplay
Game Modes
Leagues
Progression
Build Library
Gameplay
Spells & Sorceries
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Outfits
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Cards
Artifacts
Afterglows
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Lore
Spellbreak Lore
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====<span style="font-family: Libre Baskerville, sans-serif; font-weight:bold;">Book 2 - Page 188</span>==== We left early for the trek to Verdon Estate. Nila has been more solemn than usual along the march, saying very little. She has always been rigorous and serious but I feel she is almost avoiding me. I hoped now that we were alone, I would get a chance to discuss the Storm Guard and ask the many questions I have swirling around in my head. Along the path we traveled through Witgrave and planned to stay the night just on the other side so we could reach the estate early the next morning. Witgrave is a little talked about village. I have never traveled through it before. The people here are mostly midborn workers, many spending their time logging the Ribbonwood trees found in Shadowgrace. Easy access to both Banehelm Keep and Charity Crossing meant that we saw a variety of travelers also passing through. It reminded me of home. While moving through the village Nila finally turned and spoke to me. She wanted to make one stop before reaching our resting place for the night. There is a hill surrounded by several spires that sits alone. At the top is a monument that looks out over a peaceful vista. Nila walked ahead and stood just in front of where the inscription should have been. Whatever plaque once explained this memorial was long gone. It seemed fitting that even this simple gesture of remembrance and honor brought about more questions for me. In that moment I felt truly lost in my beliefs and my understanding of right and wrong. The despair and loss on Nila’s face I felt in a very different way. The remaining walk through Witgrave felt like an eternity. We continued our journey in silence and it was not until after we had eaten dinner and were both sitting by the fire that Nila spoke again. I will never forget that moment because the question she asked me seemed like such a non-sequitur that I almost fell out of my seat. She wanted me to guess how old she was. At first I could not tell if this was some sort of joke, a way to break the ice after a long awkward silent journey but I could tell she was deadly serious. Nila looked slightly older than middle age but still extremely fit and clearly incredibly sharp minded. I guessed 50, hoping very much to not offend here. To my astonishment she told me she was 172 years old and lived through many of the battles in the field notes she gave me to read. This just lead to further questions, I didn't even know where to start. How is that even possible? Records I have seen say occasionally that the oldest among us live to be 70 or 80 years old. Ancient lore spoke of men living to be 300 or more but no one believes those stories. She told me that there are magical powers and abilities that have been lost or hidden for too long by the Vowkeepers. The fact that I am an initiate worried her but she wants me to know the truth. I wanted to ask her, “Why me?” This was supposed to be my first chance out in the world to grow as a Vowkeeper. This was supposed to be easy. This was supposed to be too easy! After asking many more questions which just led to more questions I could tell Nila was growing tired. This was not going to be resolved tonight. The final words she said to me were, “Young one, you have much to learn and too much to unlearn, but first we rest.” With that she went to bed. That was many hours ago now and as I sit here wide awake still contemplating the last few days, I can see dawnbreak over the hills. </div>
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