You are a person born of a simple little lifestyle in the woods, a little farm you've come to appreciate forming from your hands and your hands alone.

You bear no title to your name, but you've paid no mind to that, you were never one to care much for rank or heritage after all. 

You could say you were rather reclusive, isolating yourself most days from the neighboring kingdoms and villages. You only come to visit the cities when you are in need of something, or when you intend to sell some of your better harvests for the season. 

Some people would usually say you were a bit mundane, never one to venture out in the wild to explore like most people are, and you can't exactly fault them for thinking that, but you find solace and comfort in the slow pace of early mornings and quiet afternoons. The bustle of civilization and the high-risk chases and adrenaline of adventures just wasn't your style. 

You liked things when they were simple, explainable. When they were logical and definitive. When things were quiet and followed routine, like a quiet mantra sung into the earth and spoken back in echoes. 

You were boring, sure, but life was steady and you were happy. Truly, what more could you be pleased with? Riches could never sway you more than your wonderful little cottage has on a rainy morning, they could never capture that feeling of self-fulfillment you feel when you gaze upon your grassy fields and see your recently sowed crops, they could never be on par with the fondness of waking up to your beloved steed snorting at you through your open window, jostling you from your slumber to start the day's work.

However, nothing could have ever prepared you for the chaos that would have followed in the following days as you descend into an ancient portal far from the fields of your home, scriptures of holy beings carved into the smooth obsidian, gold lining the insides like it was made for worship. You've heard of these before, you've seen makeshift portals be made in the cities, but you've never seen one so ancient and riddled with age like this. 

You dare not step any closer, for fear of what lies beyond that otherworldy sheen of purple light.