It had been two months since Elion slaughtered most of his tribe, leaving only the workers, who followed him as their new leader. He

  had spent most of his time training the workers in the art of survival, however, he found this task noticeably more difficult than he had imagined it would be. While

  every worker excelled in one area or another, they also fell behind in others. Workers who were skilled in combat were often lacking in stealth. Those who easily

  blended in to the environment often could not land a decent shot with their bow. The workers insisted that, rather than train them all in every aspect, Elion train

  them in the areas where they showed promise, thus creating small, specialized teams. But Elion was determined to teach each of them every skill he had acquired on his

  own. He enforced harder training regiments and gathered the group for courses more often. Within a week, even his most devote followers began to question his

  leadership. Despite the weeks of training and constant practice, some members of the group were not improving and felt it best to devote their time to more productive

  endeavors that would better suit their new tribe as a whole. Hushed whispers floated around their camps at night. Whispers of Elion's failure to appropriately lead and

  the similarities between him and the leaders they had left behind. He refused to listen to the workers, just as his predecessors had. He pushed them too hard and asked

  too much of them. He treated them with little respect and often punished those who could not make improvements in particular areas he deemed important. He had become

  much like the men and women he despised so much. One day, approximately a month after Elion's return, the workers went on strike. They refused to train or attend

  Elion's sessions. In response, Elion called them together to give them a speech, however, none attended that either. Growing more frustrated by their refusal to

  cooperate, Elion began pulling them aside one by one to discuss the growing issue. He received the same response each time. "You're just like the last leaders. You

  treat us poorly and expect our complete and unwavering loyalty in return. We've had enough," each worker would say as Elion plucked them from their daily activities.

  The strike lasted only a few days, but the workers' message had been sent. Elion was to change his methods or leave. Despite the protest of the workers, Elion

  continued to force his harsh regiments upon them. Rather than head their words, he became more strict, punishing those who refused to cooperate. Before long, the

  workers fell back in line, pushing themselves to their limits. They no longer respected Elion or what he represented, instead, they feared him. He continued to train

  them over the course of three months, running them through a gauntlet of trials. When he was finally satisfied with the performance of each individual, he sent them

  out in several directions for one final test. Each worker was given a specific task to accomplish. They would return with a predetermined item that would prove they

  had completed their task. Elion had spread them thin enough that they would all have to rely on their own skills without any form of assistance. Two days after he sent

  his tribe out, the first worker returned, proudly brandishing a new bow he had created, per Elion's instructions. Not long after his return, several more made their

  way back, each with their own trophy. Elion swelled with pride, convinced that, despite all of the disruption and protest, he had made the right choice for the

  advancement of the tribe. It was days before any remaining workers would return. Nearly a week after their initial departure, the final workers returned with their

  trophies, except two. Elion was informed that they had perished in their journeys. He refused to take the blame, stating that it was their incompetence that led to

  their demise. It was then that the workers launched a full rebellion, each using their crafted weapons from their journeys to assault Elion. He defended himself from

  the vicious attack but refused to retaliate. The workers were the last of his tribe. He couldn't execute them or his tribe would cease to exist. Instead, he fled,

  receiving various injuries upon his exit. He made his way as far from the tribe as he could before stopping to dress his wounds. That night, he sat alone once more,

  contemplating the decisions he had made over the past months. He found himself exiled from the tribe again, by the same people he had fought so hard for no less. His

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  rage grew in the following days as he debated what course of action to take next. He felt as though the workers had betrayed him after all he had sacrificed to free

  them of their bonds to a cruel and uncaring tribe. After days of deliberation, Elion had reached a decision. He was going to hunt them down and make them pay for their

  treachery. Tracking them down would prove to be difficult, as the entire tribe had become highly skilled in covering their tracks and remaining hidden. This hunt

  tested Elion's skills like no other. It took him nearly a month to find them, but now that he knew where they were, he could take his time to prepare for his assault.

  He watched them closely, searching for weak spots in their defenses as they traveled through the forest. With every passing day, he grew more restless, struggling to

  find the proper moment to strike. Despite careful observation, he couldn't find a weak spot. Every member worked together flawlessly, covering each others weaknesses

  and complimenting their strengths. Watching the tribe move around so successfully, Elion realized the mistakes he had made. If he had listened to their grievances, he

  would still be a part of the tribe. Their success was built upon teamwork, not individual success. That's what they had tried to explain to him, but he let his ego

  stand in the way. Crushed by this realization, Elion left the tribe behind for good. He had no place in the forest anymore. He had destroyed his tribe and built a new

  one that resented him for the same reason that he had resented their previous leaders. He ventured ahead of the tribe, leaving behind a small token as an apology. His

  custom spear, crafted from the bones of his first kill, along with a message carved in to a large tree. "I hope you accept my apology in the from of my most prized

  possession. This spear was created from the bones of my first kill. May it serve you well." And with that, Elion began traveling toward the outskirts of the forest. It

  took several months to reach the end as the forest was vast and lush. Navigating through the thicker areas had proven to be difficult, but he pushed on. When he

  finally emerged, he found a massive, diverse landscape sprawling before him. In the distance he located a village. His destination determined, he set out to begin a

  new life. A life outside of the forest he had known since birth. The tribe had taught him many valuable lessons, but his mistakes had proven too costly. He had decided

  to make his way to the capitol, where he would begin his new life in service to the province rather than the tribe alone. He traversed the plains between himself and

  the village with relative ease. Upon his arrival, he was greeted by a strange man. He stood nearly seven feet tall and wore a solid suit of armor crafted from bone

  with a matching claymore on his back. "You don't want to get involved with this villages troubles, trust me," the man said as he passed Elion. But Elion had come too

  far to turn back. He made his way to the center of the village, where the residents had gathered around. A woman stood in the center of the group delivering a speech.

  Elion had barely caught the end of it when the crowd began to cheer. He moved in to investigate. The crow slowly dispersed, leaving Elion the opportunity to confront

  the woman. "What was that about?" he asked as he approached her. She chuckled softly, "Welcome to my village, traveler. I am Lorean. I run this village, but we've come

  across a bit of an issue." Elion smiled slightly, as this was his chance to make a first impression and cement a place amongst the villagers. "My name is Elion," he

  replied, "Perhaps I can assist in your issue." Lorean smiled, "It won't be easy. Our problem is," she paused for a moment, considering the proper wording for what she

  had to explain. "It's of the mythical persuasion." Elion took a step back, bewildered by her statement. Sensing his confusion, she elaborated, "A dragon lives atop that

  mounted," she said as she pointed to a mountain to the west of the village, "it plagues my people, destroying their crops and harvesting their livestock. We need

  someone to slay the beast." Elion nodded and rolled a few thoughts around in his head. After a moment of deliberation, he agreed to take on this challenge, "I'll do

  it. But you have to provide me with armor and a weapon." Lorean agreed to his conditions and quickly made her way to the village blacksmith, who produces a suit of

  armor, a broadsword, and a shield. Elion prepared and set off toward the mountain. He had no idea what terrors awaited him on that mountain, or in the village itself.