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[Nazralte]

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He has traveled so much in his years. Across Sosaria when he first arrived, soon after the Lost Lands. The latter was his favorite for hunting. There was fewer bandits and thieves, and the game was plentiful. It was there that he mastered the use of mace and archery, not to mention the use of a shield.
The years have been good to him. He has a nice home on the isle of Moonglow, and even though he isn't rich, he has enough to live by. Being the leader of thier militia has kept him in shape, but his age is catching up with him. Although his strength hasn't left him yet, he isn't as fast or agile as he once was. He does make up for that with his tactics somewhat, but sometimes he just cannot keep up with the younger men.
It is now that he feels his age. Traveling across Ilshenar he grows weary. It seems harder to breath, and he cannot walk but a half-mile or so without taking a break. His joints are stiff, and muscles burn. He keeps walking despite the pain, for it is easier to walk than to try to cast one of those confounded spells.
Sitting down on a log near a pool he looks around at his surroundings. He scans the flowers and foliage, trees and grasses. A tree catches his eye as he looks about. It doesn't seem to fit in with the other trees. He goes over to it and touches the bark, "It feels like a normal tree" he says to himself. Walking around the tree he notices a small pool of water.
"Funny, I didn't see that..." He kneels and scooping some water into his hand, he takes a sip, then takes a few more.
"Damn, this is some good water" he says aloud, then lowers his head and drinks deeply. Immediately his aches and pains are gone. He is energized and feels like he could run across Ilshenar without breaking a sweat.
"I feel like a kid again. I should take some wih me...lets see here, only five bottles on me. Ah well, I can find my way back here I think."
He fills his five bottles and drinks as much as he can, then heads off back to a moongate. After running into the Moonglow provisioners, he heads back to Ilshenar to the same place he was. He searches and searches, but he can't seem to find it. "There!" he exclaims. He heads to the same log he sat at, even seeing his footprints in the grass, but the pool isn't there. The tree isn't even there. He sits on the log and ponders what has happened. The bottles are still filled with the water, clear and free of dirt, yet the tree and pool are gone.
Later that day he finally reaches his home. He puts the bottles of water into a metal chest and locks it. Heading to his bed, he looks into one of his many snowglobes then stops suddenly. "It can't be..." he whispers.
In the reflection he sees himself at 20.
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Nazralte
Former Regent of Britannia