Herman had been called many things by the people in his village, but he tried not to listen to them. “Herman the Hermit,” “Hermit the pack rat” Herman really didn’t care that much about people, he mostly cared for what he called, his “toys.” Perhaps a grumpy old man should think of something better to call the items around his house than “toys” but that is truly how he thought of them. Each one had a special place in his heart. He loved how it made him feel to use each one of his relics. Herman had always wanted to be a wizard when he was a child. He forced his parents to have him tested not once, not twice, but ten times from the age of 5. Every year he left in tears when the wizard would tell him that he did not possess the ability to cast magic in the same way as wizards.
Herman spent much of his youth studying magical theory, and understanding how spells work – well, at least what had been written about how spells work. It was on his sixteenth birthday that his father bought him a pendant from a small oddities shop that the owner claimed had belong to a powerful wizard. As soon as the pendant touched his hand, Herman could feel the patterns of magic flowing through the stone. The ruby almost understood how to cast the spell on its own. Herman didn’t have to know how to cast the spell he just had to focus on the stone and channel into it and as he did, the fire came forth.
This new world felt so amazing to him that he began to search every shop and traveling merchant’s wares to find anything with the smallest imprints of magic in them.
It was a snowy winter’s day when Herman noticed a small blonde haired girl running out of his back door with one of his favorite golden relics. Herman chased the little girl but with his stiff leg, he wasn’t much of a match for her however, the fresh snow made tracking her a breeze. He noticed that she had dashed into the forest. He channeled a small amount of focus into one of his charms to surround himself in the warmth of a fire spell. His steps burned the snow where he tread.
He followed the trail for a mere five minutes before he came upon trouble. The small girl lay knocked out on the ground and a band of trolls surrounded her. He may have been mad at the little girl but he couldn’t to let her die. Herman charged straight for the little girl, still seeing the little gold star clutched in her hands. He grabbed it, just as the three trolls turned to face him. He shuddered at what he was about to do, for he had only done it once before and even then, it was just practice. Herman channeled a large amount of focus into the relic – more than it could handle, splitting it down the middle and releasing all of its magical potential. A cone of black light came from the star, disintegrating all three trolls at once.
Herman gathered the little girl in his arms and carried her back to town, crying the whole time. He would miss his night star, but he would love his new name, Herman the Hero!