OoFat’s story begins in silence.

He awoke on a bed of moss beneath towering pines, the air thick with the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. His head throbbed with a hollow ache, and when he reached for memories, he found only darkness. No past. No purpose. Only a name whispered in his mind like an echo from another life:
OoFat.

At his side lay two things that felt both foreign and familiar:
• A small leather pouch filled with herbs, petals, and strange dried roots
• A massive great axe, its edge chipped but lovingly maintained
He didn’t know why these items mattered, only that they did. So he rose picked up his axe, as he touched the handle a whisper of a memory and a name Lucille. His axe had a name Lucille, so he slung Lucille across his back, and walked toward the rising sun.

The Wanderer and the Templars

OoFat wandered for weeks, following instinct more than direction. He learned quickly that his hands knew how to mix herbs into salves, powders, and tinctures—skills that came to him as naturally as breathing. Yet he also fought with the ferocity of a seasoned warrior, his axe carving arcs of brutal precision.
These contradictions drew the attention of the Templar Knights, who found him fending off wolves near an abandoned shrine. They offered shelter, food, and a place among their ranks. With no past to return to, OoFat accepted.
Within the Templars, he met Cnut, a warrior with a sharp tongue, a sharper blade, and a loyalty that ran deeper than steel. The two became inseparable—brothers forged not by blood, but by battle.
But the longer OoFat stayed, the more something gnawed at him.
The Templars spoke of purity, obedience, and rigid order. Their rituals felt wrong. Their leaders whispered behind closed doors. And OoFat’s instincts—those same instincts that guided his alchemy and his axe—told him danger lurked beneath their polished armor.
Cnut felt it too.

The Departure

One night, under a moon veiled by clouds, OoFat and Cnut made their choice. They gathered their gear, swore a silent oath to each other, and slipped away from the Templar stronghold before dawn.
They didn’t flee out of fear.
They left because they sought something truer.

The Xth Legion

Their wandering eventually brought them to the banners of the Xth Legion, a band of hardened soldiers, craftsmen, and free spirits who valued strength, skill, and brotherhood over dogma.
Here, OoFat found what he didn’t know he’d been searching for:
• A place where his alchemy was celebrated, not questioned
• A home where his axe Lucille was respected, not restrained
• A brotherhood where Cnut stood beside him, not behind him
Among the Xth Legion, OoFat began to rebuild himself—not from memories, but from choices. He became their warrior-alchemist, brewing concoctions that healed allies, empowered fighters, and occasionally exploded in ways that made the Legion’s smiths swear loudly. Soon he was adopted into the Clergy of the Axe, a group within the legion of fellow robe wearing axe wielding warriors. On the battle field with his fellow clergy members they where unstoppable a force within a greater force, who swung and chopped all that stood against the Legion.
His past remained a mystery, but his future was finally his own.

A Legend Begins

OoFat’s tale is still being written.
Some say his lost memories will one day return.
Others whisper that he was once someone powerful—perhaps feared, perhaps revered.
But OoFat himself doesn’t dwell on it.
He has his brother and sisters in arms.
He has a Legion to defend.
He has a name that now means something.
And that is enough. (edited)Tuesday, 3 February 2026 08:06