Weapons For War

In a world ravaged by war, racial tensions and social injustice, you'd expect a hero to suddenly pop-up out of the blue and unite everyone against some big bad monster. Well, I hate to disappoint, but I'm certainly not planning on doing any of that, I'm some powerful superbeing, and I'm certainly no hero. I'm just a traveler, or at least that's what I would be were I not a societal outcast.

You see, in this world everyone, and I do mean everyone, elves, humans, half-elves, dwarves, etc. All of them, are born as a patron to a certain god. These gods, each govern a school of magic, within which each of their patrons is especially gifted, some more than others. I, however, was born to no god, I am a patron to no one. As such, I'm an exception to the rule, which meant I had to die. So I was hunted, I lived as a fugitive for most of my childhood, until I was found, and they left me to die in a forest. It was then that I was approached by a member of a long thought to be extinct race, a fellow enemy of the gods...

Years later I met a girl, and well... This is where my story begins, a story shrouded in darkness and engrossed by light, a story with no hero, the story of a weapon built for war.