Hi fellow forum dwellers,



while playing Endless Legend with the Ardent Mages faction, I suddenly got this idea for a character that kept tumbling through my mind and just wouldn't let go. Since I'm no graphics guy, I didn't try to make a hero mod out of it (I wouldn't be able to do the picture justice and didn't want to reuse already existing imagery). Still, that thought kept rumbling until it finally forced me to at least writing things down, into a first small chapterlet.

Might as well share the beginning of Ashura's story as an outcast:



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# Legal note:

# This is fanfiction and in no way part of the official canon of Endless legend

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The whole thing as an Ebook (Will update along with posts): The Outcast.zip

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Prologue

Ashura really hadn't meant to kill Tyrion. It wasn't really his fault that the man – boy, really – who was now lying crumbled on the ground, a charred corpse, had not been able to back his words with deeds. The stupid bastard had it coming either way, but it probably was expecting a bit much to have the boy's mother agree with that.

Which was bad news, given the fact that the boy's mother was a member of the Inner Circle. Very bad news.

Ashura turned to the side of the crowd, checking on Shayla. Her clothes still showed damage, though she had obviously done the best she could to fix the damage Tyrion had done on that count. The fiery look in her eyes, as she cast her gaze upon the corpse with considerable satisfaction, should by rights have rendered it into ashes. The scorch wound on Shayla's face obviously wasn't going to be much of a concern – not life-threatening and Shayla's family was rich, the damage would be fixed within the week, surely.

Too bad actually, it casts her face into an interesting, attractive contrast.

If only all damage was that simple to fix. Thinking back to how that whole mess had begun …





Earlier that day

Ashura walked down the streets of Ascent with his usual swagger. Not a problem, even on a crowded street such as Tra'viol Main: people gave a wide berth to men and women wearing the academy uniform. They also tended to give wide berth to a 7 feet giant who had the body and disposition of a particularly nasty Warlock (An observer might be pardoned for that observation – after all, that's exactly what Ashura had been before gaining admittance to Ascent Academy).

A Mage – even a trainee – should usually be more subtle in the moods he broadcasted, but then, even for that Ashura could hardly be faulted given the cause…

Friggin' cheats, the lot of them. The headmaster more than any! Ashura had trouble keeping that particular grumble from escaping his mouth. Oh, no! Can't use Eleriana's Focusing yet, it's third term coursework and Not Yet Admitted For Use! Ha! Told me to scorch the dummy did ya? can't find a friggin' piece of Ash of it now, can you?! Besides, that 'rule' wasn't there, the last time I checked test regulations, fifteen minutes before the test.

His feet brought him through the academy gates while his mind turned in thought.

Come to think of it, why didn't they simply fail me for not producing that scorch on the dummy? After all, no dummy with a scorch mark to see? entering the Meditation Tower. Probably because it would demonstrate my power. The existence of 'overkill' is after all something the philosophers have yet to prove. Far more disreputable to be accused of cheating, I guess.

By then, Ashura's feet had brought him to the Tranquil Garden, a level of the tower filled with a well-kempt garden. Usually Ashuras favorite place to prepare for a pain ritual, clearing his thought from daily concerns, the better to focus on the pain and its lessons. It also had the advantage of not having many visitors, though one never knew what happened in one of the more secluded alcoves.

Damn, it sure sucks having to work against almost the entire system! Being born a lowly commoner wasn't exactly my choice, after all.

Still grumbling, Ashura sat down on a stone relaxing into the meditative stance that allowed him to clear his mind when …

Zap!

The very distinct sound of a Dust Bolt from one of the alcoves interrupted Ashura's concentration, followed by angry voices, one male, the other female. Of course no yelp of pain – anybody who made it into this academy would be hardened beyond screaming from a single Dust Bolt … or flush out within his or her first week.

Curious, rather than alarmed, Ashura left his stance and went investigating. Barely around the corner and into the alcove from whence the sounds were coming, however, his anger flared explosively:

Two classmates of his were embroiled in an argument. On the one side there was Tyrion, the arrogant and lazy son of a member of the Inner Circle. Barely 16 years old, he was a near constant disturbance during classes and obviously thought rules didn't apply to him. Unfortunately, too many teachers indulged him in that notion.

On the other, there was Shayla, the raven-haired beauty of their class and two years Tyrion's senior. Only now she had a prominent scorch on the left side of her face and her clothes were in tatters. One of the best students in his class, she was also the only student who treated Ashura with something akin to respect.

Given the situation, Tyrion had obviously been using the fact, that Shayla's family's fortune was dependent on his mother's tolerance, against her. Trying to gain some very personal benefits in fact. Shayla after all was for Tyrion's superior in the Arcane Arts.

Too bad, I'd love to watch her hurt the rotten bastard beyond his threshold!

Tyrion angrily turned to Ashura "Hey, oaf! Get lost here, none of your business!"

Calm now, he's provoking you. Calm. He may deserve a world of hurt, for hurting Shayla, but damn, no need to make it worse for her. Calm. But–

"Hey pumpkin! I know you're mentally challenged, but this really shouldn't have been too hard to understand!"

Calm.

Shayla turned towards Ashura, worry in her face "Ashura, d–"

Calm.

But Tyrion had reached him and punched him into the stomach. Or tried to, rather – by the time Ashura came back to his senses, the brat was flying towards the center of the floor. After several yards of flight he landed messily, bumped off the grass, tumbled and ended up in an improbable position in one of the bushes around the central fountain.

Incidentally at the feet of two strolling female beauties from the third year, who had the indecency to giggle at his misfortune.

Serves the rotten fool right

Tyrion got up again with some trouble, including several tears in his non-standard uniform. Red-faced, he whirled towards the big hulking bastard that had manhandled him and screamed for all to hear "Bastard, I'll have you pay for this indignity, I challenge you to an arcane duel to the death!"

Very well, if that removes him from my misery



By the time Tyrion had cleaned up and both duelists had taken up positions, staves in hand, a small crowd had gathered. Not waiting for a starting signal, the young challenger unleashed a barrage of Dust Blast spells, each bumping into the defender's hastily erected barrier.

That's all the weakling can do?

Blast after blast kept hitting the shield and Ashura kept not attacking, while his opponent obviously started to sweat profusely from his exertion.

Should have trained more, no stamina

"Ha! What is it coward! Can't even attack, can you? Why don't you stop cowering behind your barrier, like a scared cat?"

Very well

Gathering energy, focusing it as taught in the book on Eleriana's Focusing he had read up on in the library, he sent a single, powerful Dust Blast back at his young opponent, which brutally shattered his shield, the backblast throwing him into the dust … only, there had been no shield at all … and there was no way the charred body of his opponent still held life.





Present

"He killed Tyrion! Murderer!"



…



Banishment.

An Outcast, that was his fate to be. The proceedings had been swift, the vote unanimous. The victim's mother had sat there in evidence, black condemnation at the murderer's back. Shayla in the audience constrained to silence. A few witnesses had been heard. Atrocious, murdered openly without provocation. A powerful, forbidden spell, no student has access to. No warning, just a swift strike.

There had been no need to hear the murderer, his guilt obvious.

Damn, where my temper has brought me! Little condolence that the twerp had had it coming.



And thus, Ashura was turned out into the wilds of Auriga, his dreams shattered, with nothing but the cloth on his back.



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And thus the tale begun. And whenever Ashura returns to haunt my head for a little, I might well add another chapter.



Note: No accounting for authenticity, the only lore stuff I found was the short faction description on the game page and whatever the faction quest provided in the game.



Cheers,

Bosparan

Do Ashura or Shayla already have last names?



I'm working on a heroes mod that has a ton of new heroes; someone mentioned your writing here, and I thought that I could easily adapt the spirit of both Ashura and Shayla since you felt so inspired! I think it would be a fun gesture.



Here's what I'll probably use, if you like the sound of it:



Ashura [LastNameorTitleTBD]: (Balanced) Banished from traditional magical schooling for killing a fellow student, this naturally powerful young mage finds that he much prefers to practice his arts in the real world.



Shayla [LastNameorTitleTBD]: (Governor) A raven-haired beauty with many admirers. She comes from an established clan and is beginning to establish herself as a capable administrator.

Hi Liyophelia,



I'm happy you like them enough to add them to the mod. I would be honored if you added both of 'em

"Liyophelia" wrote:
Do Ashura or Shayla already have last names?

Ashura does not have a last name. Not only would he have been stripped of it, when exiled, he never had one to begin with. His mother a lowly worker of the carnal arts (they censor the 'W' word here, even though it's a perfectly legitimate term for an honorable and ancient profession. Oh well ...), his father unknown, bastard child of the lowest class, he never inherited a last name. As a suitable title, he'd rate for "the Savage", given how his story will unfold when I get to continue writing it (the next chapter will probably be along this weekend).

Shayla: Her full name is "Shayla tir Nogaria tel Slavi" (Damn if I ever managed to pronounce an official Ardent Mage hero's name half as well ^^)



A note on Shayla ...

She's a strict, arrogant and brilliant administrator, as well as a gifted mage in her own rights. She's absolutely on the track for a great career, her followers may not love her, but any lower ranked Ardent Mage of ambition will certainly not stint on effort in her service. After all, the rewards for competence more than compensate for the sharp tongue.



A note on Ashura ...

He was born to a drunkard wh... (censorship banzai) who couldn't have pointed straight at his father if she met him and recognized him. Growing up in the streets he noticed his gift and entered the military as an enlisted grunt. When earning admittance to the academy he had already the disposition and attitude of an NCO. He most emphatically never was a refined person. It's not all that surprising he should turn to savagery when banished into the wilderness.



Cheers,

Fred

Thanks Fred! I'll update their stories a little more to bring them closer to your vision and fix their last names in the next update! And they are already live in the mod; I've had both of them hired at the same time before, which made me giggle. <3

However did you manage that? Given the horrendous mountains of dust Shayla would have extorted out of you for her services ... ^^