Tales of Redemption: The Tree Dragon Chronicles
ToeKar the Burster
Age: 22 Height: 5’10"
Description: Black hair & Brown Eyes. Looks thin.
Sex: Male Weight: 160 lbs
HF:+3 Save vs Horror Factor
Psionic Abilities ISP Range Duration
Mind Block 4 Self 10 min/lvl
Resist Thirst 6 Self 6 hrs
Resist Hunger 2 Self 6 hrs
Impervious to Fire & Heat0 Self Always
Electricity Does 1/2 Damage0 Self Always
Extinguish Fires 4 100’ Permanent
Flame Burst 4 Self 2 min/lvl
Fire Bolt 2 200’ 1 action
Fire Eruption 10/20 100’ 10 min.
Sense Fire 2 800’ 4 mins.
Superfuel Fire 8 100’ n/a
An “anarchist” a “loaner” “self involved” and “survivalist”. Many have categorized me but no one takes the time to know me.
My name is ToeKar Nickelson, born 22 years ago by Evelyn and James Nickelson owner of Nickelson Trading Post. I have two older brothers Zade 30 and Matteo 27. My parents and Zade have run the Trading Post for more than a decade. My father had the talent of always finding treasures while my Mom and Zade tended the daily task of the store. Our home was located in the back of the building. One of the unusual features of the kitchen was a fall-out shelter underneath the garden accessible behind a pantry closet false doorway. My father called it his reading room and Matteo and I used it for martial arts training. Matteo was my Sensei, my keeper, my confidant and best friend. He never seemed to mind have the task of taking care of me.
Our family was private and tightly knit. Though Zade was married he had no children. Matteo had several friends but seldom did he bring anyone into our shop or home. Dinners at our home would last for hours. My father would tell of tales from his day search. We would be kept on the edge of our seats for these tall tales, but on occasion when he would get intense or angry his finger tips would glow a bright red. My Mom and Zade being Mind Melters would walk him back from the edge. Matteo watching over me, frequently would grab my hand and we would become invisible which would be followed by a very intense look from my father. Dinners would always end the same way, giving thanks for our family and what we have, followed by meditation.
I was 8yrs old when everything changed. I remember my father speaking to other shop owners about the encroachment but never really gave it any mind. As Trading Post owners we were familiar with rouge attacks and always held our ground with combat training and fall back options available. Unfortunately, we never considered being overrun by our own military. The last day, Wednesday 6pm my brother Zade closed the front door, my father was finishing stocking shelves behind the counter as my mother tended to the register. Matteo worked the stove at the kitchen and I set the table. No words were spoken from the front as the storefront was attacked. It was silent. Our only warning was the flash. Matteo rushed to the peephole on the door separating the shop from our home. The storefront was gone. He grabbed my hand and we rushed to our safe shelter. In the early hours of morning when dawn was yet to rise, we worked our way up to the home. As we peered past the doorway we could only see smoldering ash and the dirt roadway. Our family was gone. The storefront was gone. All other businesses were gone. We saw solders walking, inspecting and gathering valuables.
As we retreated back to the safety of our shelter Matteo paced back and forth mumbling, “How could they have done this?”, “Ultio” as he clenched his teeth and fists. We wept for days. On the third day Matteo and I packed our supplies and left. As the days passed we aligned ourselves with fellow survivors. Matteo was vigilant in ensuring our safety and preparedness to stay alive. Though our daily routines had changed to securing food and shelter, Matteo would not let a day pass without excessive exercise and training. Each night, he would specifically work on my mental faculty to control my gifts. He taught me to trust no one and limit risks. It was just us against all. A decade had passed and our group had settled near a river. Matteo and I took to treasure hunting as our father’s pastime, and sold our daily finds enabling us some assembly of a normal existence. Our home and health was in order. Maturity has allowed us to build some allegiances along the way including a DOC. On many occasions he was called in to patch us up. By my 22nd year our “Ultio” was in full swing. We have had many successes while keeping our actions anonymous. At least, I thought this was the case. Revenge has a way of catching up with you. Our village was attacked while we slept. Matteo was gone. Everyone was gone. I found DOC on a trail not far from his home..……….