The Relic From A Forgotten Kingdom - A D&D story by EzraTheFallen

Five hundred years have passed since the fall of Sylvan'theris, a great elven city that is now only is now ruins, vines, rubble, and broken dreams left after a great war between the elves, orcs, humans, and ghouls. An old druid, with curiosity, decided to visit that same place to see what the war made to such a wonderful place Sylvan'theris was. But instead, he was met with something else. Everything was simply as alive, with the forest, trees, and vegetation growing exponentially, as it was dead, with ruins and mortal remains of its inhabitants. Nothing made sense until he reached an ancient tree in the middle of the ruins. A gigantic knight, armored from head to toe, is too big for a human, too sophisticated for a simple machine. The titan was laid down, lifeless, embraced by the roots of the ancient tree, almost like an everlasting cold embrace, serving as the armored behemoth's deathbed. The only visible feature is its huge broken dark armor, filled with sigils painted in green and yellow, a worn-out scarf, whistling with the wind in a magical, calm, and melancholic way, a bulk and large greatsword stuck in the roots, and its helm that had a bright, yet dying light inside, one that could be described as the machine's soul, refusing to die, nor vanish from that realm. A demist-like aura emanated from the said corpse, almost as if the dying soul wanted to escape out of that steel that was imprisoning it. Only one feeling could describe what he saw: relentlessness, refusal. After analyzing the body, the druid discovered that the amalgamation of souls that resided in front of him was reeking of mana and life, and in those 500 years, the land that one day was a destroyed battlefield of a great wa now was a beautiful and dense jungle, reeking with life. Moved by the sight and discovery, the moved druid decided to restore the giant that lay before him, to give him the gift of life once again. And that fallen knight is you.