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This story begins in a time long before now. A time when technology is unknown. In a time where magic is the greatest power known to the denizens. This time is known as the Dark Ages. In these dark times, there are many who wish to excel as heroes. These heroes come from one of three lands. The land of Albion, inhabited by the Great Britons and Headstrong Highlanders, the land of Midgard, inhabited by the mighty Norse and Dextrous Kobolds, and the land of Hibernia, inhabited by the magical Celts and Stubborn Firbolgs.
One of these told heroes is one that goes by the name of Ibechicken. She was a great Briton. Trained in the art of the sword. Armored in chain and gifted in use of both hands. Ibechicken was a Mercenary. Her great blades could slash through even the toughest of Celtic Plate, and could pierce even the most stubborn of Troll flesh. Ibechicken was an inhabitant of the land of Albion. At an early level of experience, she fought foul creatures known as Urchins.
In her third year of experience, she
encountered her first great test of strength. Traveling near the Castle of Thidranki Faste,
Ibechicken was attacked by a Hibernian Nightshade. It started the fight with a Celtic
incantation that sent pain through Ibechicken's entire body. The Celt was painted for fighting,
but nothing could have prepared that young Celt for the blow it was about to be dealt.
At the sight of the Shade, Ibechicken drew her mighty Bastard sword and Swift Dagger.
As the Celt broght its blades down in an attempt to pierce the thick chainmail of
Ibechicken's, Ibechicken brought her blades up to block. In the same fluid motion,
Ibechicken deflected both of the Nightshade's Daggers and planted her bastard sword into
the flesh of the young Celt. The blade bypassed the Celt's weak leather armor with
ease before cutting halfway through the torso of the Nightshade. The Celt staggered,
then fell to the ground at Ibechicken's feet. This was Ibechicken's first victory over
an enemy of Albion, but it was definately not her last.
