Rift City: Introducing Willow

Character Description

Race: Tiefling

Class: Druid

Subclass: Circle of the Stars

Hair: Auburn

Skin: Light red

Eyes: Icy blue

Height: 5'7"

Age: 26

Distinguishing Marks: 3-inch scar running diagonally across her left forearm/wrist that she covers with a set of beaded bracelets (purple, red, and gold beads)

Guild: Tholian Grove Tender

Backstory

The soft earth gives beneath bare feet as Willow alights from the tree she’s spent the last hour lounging in, reading among the sturdy branches. Away from her peers. Emerging from the swaying shade, she squints against the afternoon light, dull as it is. She doesn’t need to see the sun beyond the barrier to mark time. The knowledge is with her always. And she’s late.

Her relentless obsession with the sky and the stars—and all the other things the Shattering stole from their world well before she had a chance to know them—began six years earlier, the day she met Matthias. He’d swaggered in from the docks with the other merchants, flashing a roguish smile as he peddled his shiny wares. He looked to be maybe five years older than Willow, with emerald-green eyes and thick, flowing hair the color of fox fur. His skin was tanned to a magnificent golden hue, like the pears Willow favored in summer.

He wasn’t like the other merchants. While the others looked through Willow, interested only in the fresh produce they could find, Matthias looked at her. Not in any particularly special way. The only thing that made the action remarkable was that he was the only one who bothered to do it.

Unfortunately, the first time he’d seen her, she had just faceplanted outside her small garden after being tripped by one of her study mates. As she knelt there, scooping fallen vegetables back into the crate she’d very nearly bashed her head into, Matthias crouched beside her in silence, dusting off wayward cabbages and carrots.

When the crate was full once more, Matthias looked at her.

“Why’d he do it?”

She scratched her chin, gaze on the ground near her muddy knees. “They think I’m weird.”

He laughed softly. “And why is that?”

A sigh escaped her nose, long and weary. “Because I have a hard time focusing. I’m always running into things because my mind wanders, and I stop paying attention to what’s really here.”

He settled onto the ground, arms resting on his bent knees. “What do you think about?”

“The Blooms, mostly. I can’t figure out why something everyone says is so terrible and scary is so beautiful.”

“Hmm, I have seen some pretty lovely shapes up there. Perhaps even more beautiful than the constellations of the time before the Shattering.”

She looked at him curiously. “What constellations?”

He’d presented her with a half-charred map, then. Hundreds of dots connected by lines showing various figures. The power of the stars. Her desire to unlock their secrets was nearly overwhelming. Afterward, they’d chatted about his travels. Willow had never left the Cistern Islands. Her parents and the other Grove Tenders didn’t trust the city beyond their borders. Plenty of stories lent credence to their fear, but the tales Matthias spun set Willow’s heart pounding with the thrill of adventure.

Every year since then, when the harvest drew in the merchants, Matthias would bring more stories of Rift City’s furthest corners and highest plateaus. He also brought a satchel full of pretty things. He’d gifted Willow a strand of beads—some blood red, others the color of ripe plums, and still others golden—that she wrapped around her left wrist to hide the scar that ran along her forearm, another reminder of her status as the village weirdo. She’d earned the scar after getting lost in one of her elaborate daydreams, stumbling over a log with a sharp protruding limb. The bracelet was a sign of friendship, nothing more, but the gift was the most precious thing Willow owned. She looked forward to Matthias’s visits even more after that.

Then, last year, he didn’t show. None of the other traders had seen him in more than two months. Without her friend’s adventures to satisfy her ever-growing curiosity, Willow grew more restless. At long last, she set out from the Cistern Islands, ignoring the lingering stares of disapproval at her back as she sailed away to the unknown. Perhaps she could visit some of Matthias favorite places and see what had become of him.

After nearly a month, it became very clear the odds of that were slim. At least she got to see the sky cabs and the Warrens and Low City. When she traveled to the Southern border to visit another group of Tholian Grove Tenders, she even got a glimpse of the cat folk she’d heard of in some of Matthias’s stories. Willow returned to her family disappointed with her search but refreshed in spirit.

Now, she picks up her pace when she sees the traders’ ships have already nearly emptied. She scans the faces, seeking her friend’s coppery locks, his crooked grin. She feels her own smile of anticipation waver. He’s not here. Again. The last of the traders disembarks, heaving a bulging satchel over one shoulder. He smiles at her as he passes, something that’s started happening more and more in the years since she met Matthias. Maybe attention is contagious.

Shoulders slumped, she turns back to the stalls lined up a hundred yards from the water, where her family and the other Grove Tenders have set out the best picks of the season. Trudging forward, head down, she rubs her bracelet absently.

“You didn’t think I’d miss two years in a row?”

Her head jerks up at the voice.

There he stands, in all his rakish glory. Though his hair doesn’t have quite the same luster as before, he otherwise looks the same.

“You’re here!” She hugs him, pulling back quickly when his satchel of wares jabs sharply into her chest.

“Sorry about that.” He shifts the load to his other shoulder.

“What kept you away?”

He shrugs. “Met a woman. Thought it was true love. I was incorrect.”

He offers nothing further, and Willow doesn’t pry, simply offers a sympathetic smile.

“Come, come. I have a couple things I want to show you.” He puts an arm around her shoulder, and together they head to Willow’s favorite tree.

Once nestled in the trunk’s curved base, Matthias rummages through his weathered satchel. When he finds what he seeks, he removes the item with great care.

Dozens of gemstones catch the light, even here in the shade of the tree. Citrine, Willow thinks. They are set into a plate of gold, wider on one side, narrow on the other. This must be what poked her.

“What is it?” she asks, enthralled by the beauty of it.

“It’s a dragon scale.”

Her gaze darts to his. “You’re serious?”

He chuckles. “Well, okay. Not a real one. Just a replica. But stunning, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely gorgeous.”

“It’s part of a larger set, used to be some kind of monument, but I ran into a man that had found this after the thing was destroyed. I’m going to try to find some others, see if I can’t recreate something special.”

Willow ran her fingers along the stones, marveling at their smoothness, their beauty. She couldn’t wait to see what else he found.

But the following year, Matthias didn’t come. Nor the next. Could he have found another woman, given up the trader’s life? Or had something sinister befallen him?

Willow’s growing restlessness urged her to find out. Her druidic powers had been developing nicely these last few years. Her study of the stars set her apart from the others even further, but she felt a thrill every time she called on their magic. She was more capable, less afraid. She could go on this journey. And this time, she wouldn’t do it alone.