The New God's Of Avaricia

Chapter ONE: "The Village, Barley."

-Winter-

[The Avarician Continent]

Snow sits atop the forestry and rooftops as the wind blows a sinister cold that makes it hard to breathe in, in what has been an unusually long winter on the Avarician continent.

For the four realms traversing the savage cold much work is needed to stay afloat post the season. Much more so for the boonies that inhabit them.

Therein lies the genesis of this tale... a little village, south of the human realm that struggles to keep up with the long winter.

The village, Barley.

A boon village in the human realm that due to the incompetence of the current King is facing one of its harshest winters in a long time.

The village being just one of the many states suffering under the incompetence of the current regime.

But the internal politics of the Kingdom of Avarice aren't of matter to this tale... at least not yet.

Instead, here in Barley Village our focus should be placed on a boy.

A young man by the name of Arteus.

A 'demi-god'. By the name of Arteus...

Standing at 5'10, Art's brown skin, has a subtle glow to it in the winter snow that highlights his mixed race. A glow that is carried on by the fog of the snow to create a sparkling effect for his short grey hair and large dark eyes.

At age 17, Arteus' body is surprisingly well toned! A possible testament to all the hard work he has put in over years to maintain his household.

However, if you looked at him now, you'd be hard-pressed to believe he worked a day in his life due to the heavy brown robe he now dons to shield from the cold.

"...Haaa..."

Art wipes off the sweat from his forehead in a tired sigh after clearing a heap of snow that sat upon a stone path.

A stone path, that leads to a small wooden shack.

A small wooden shack... that he calls home.

"That should do it for now."

He smiles softly to himself, proudly overlooking the cleared path.

As the long winter continues, it becomes harder and harder to carry out simple day-to-day activities.

And with a lack the proper equipment in the boonies to handle the seasons, stress levels often rise when handling the little things.

More and more every time before each and every little thing feels all the more difficult to accomplish. That, in particular, is what our friend here is trying to avoid.

"Hey mom! Need help with anything else?"

Arteus shouts to the shack in a prompt change in tone from 'satisfied' to 'work never stops' as he walks up the now cleared path to the house.

"Mom?"

He calls opening the creaky wooden door.

As with most houses in the boonies, the interior of Art's house is nothing to write home about.

A cramped space with tree stumps acting as makeshift seats coupled with a larger log for a table by the fireplace make for an improvised living room, whilst a short two step stairway provides the only optional two-way intersection of the structure.

The right side of the steps, leading to two rooms that act as bedrooms for him and his mother and the left side, where an open space acts as a makeshift storeroom, housing wooden crates and resources for the winter and other utilities.