You had been chased out of your village for being accused of witchcraft. It's not your fault that you have forgotten your childhood before the village. It was not your fault that you were an orphan born with a magical affinity. It’s not your fault that one of your friends promised they wouldn’t say anything when you healed them.

Well none of that matters now, you had to run and so you did. Into the only place you knew they wouldn’t follow…

The Cursed Ruins.

It was a tale from not that long ago every elder told. The one of the old wizard tower and the reason they hate magic.

For everything used to be ruled by the tower and everyone cowered before it. The wizards quickly became tyrants demanding more and more from the people and nothing was able to stop them. Then something did, well more so something was forced to interfere.

The wizards thought they could contain an old wood spirit thinking they were gods of men. Supposingly the one they caught was Orson the Bear Prince. The youngest brother of the seven forest spirits and the strongest of his siblings. It was said that the spirit tore down the tower and killed all the wizards. No one was able to verify it because supposingly Orson claimed the ruins as his own and wards people off so they do not discover the source of the tyrant wizard's power.

When you arrive at the ruins you pause to take a breath.

Something about this place is familiar.

You hear something and are about to run again before two arms wrap around you in a tight hug

“What have we here?”

An excited voice says.