Son of the fabled vampire hunter Trevor Karvaningstan, Nikolas was surely going to be his successor, an undead hunter like no other.... But Nope.  He decided that wasn't for him and went down another path. The path of the Warlock.  He studied with wizards, sorcerers, and other users of the arcane, only to find himself full of possibilities but lacking any real discipline.

"I'll make a man out of you" said his Arcane Instructor.  

"I'm spineless, pathetic, and I have no clue?  And somehow you'll make a man out of me?"  Nikolas was skeptical to be sure, mostly because his own instructor had been defeated so handily by an ogre mage the week before their lessons.  An ogre.  Seriously.  Do they even magic, bro?

Enough of these schools!  It was time for Nikolas to set out on his own and unleash the strength of his raging fire!  The power within, like a mighty tiger! There was a lot of traveling, a lot of studying, many failures and many hardships....  Nikolas faced moments where he'd rather give up than continue on.... But some unseen force pushed him to go the distance.

Eventually, he found his way, since he could be strong, and found every mile to be worth his while....  He went the distance and was right where he belonged. Somehow, he'd see it through, he'd go the distance.  And when he had, he'd realize that the life of a traveling warlock was for him.  Slaying undead without heed for their side of the story or for their own aspirations, it wasn't for him. He'd search the world and find his own way through life.  

He carried on, sleeping beneath the stars, and nothing could change his mind.  His mother and father both send letters of encouragement and disappointment respectively, but he carried on, doing his own thing and never once bothering to look back.

Traveling along the sides of warriors, barbarians, mages, clerics, and other heroes, Nikolas scaled every mountain, delved every dungeon, and stood tall by the side of the undying heroes of legend... And even though years upon years passed, he never really grew exponentially in strength, nor did he age with the years.... It was as if he progressed as one of the elvenkind.  

Even so, he had his doubts.... At times, he wondered... How well did my father hunt those undead?  And did any hunt him?  Why do I not age, why do the years feel so meaningless?

Just around the river bend, the colors of the wind beckoned to our hero, Nikolas...  There was a native of a far away land that appealed to him...  He saw a creature forsaken by her people, and abandoned by her family.  He said to her "Hey, have you ever painted with the all the colors of the wind?" And she replied with the only possible reply anyone could imagine...."....What?"  And from that moment on, they were inseparable.  

Now that our hero was no longer alone, there was little he couldn't do. His magic picked up where his companions fell short and his companions were quick to hop into the fray where his magic lacked strength.  Together, they went from Zero to Hero without the slightest hitch.  Just like that.

Bringing down dark castles and churches of religious dogma, the pair went on to join other troupes of mighty warriors, helping villagers dispose of goblins and other annoying pests.  No cellar full of rats was safe from these adventurers.  

Finally, they found themselves stumbling upon the darkness of the crypts of despair.  The only dark place where the light of hope could never shine... Everyone lost their way.  Separated by the screams of the innocent and the hopeless terrors of the souls who found themselves lost in the endless darkness... The wind blowing through your hair, the shadow on the moon each night, filling each soul to the brim with fright....  Horror overcame all.

When the clouds of nightmare raised, our hero found himself staring up at the Pumpkin King.  The King looked down and said "You have much yet to accomplish, so carry on my wayward son".  

Darkness couldn't be thicker than when the clouds converged and landed Nikolas in the lands of Sinfar.  What is there to see here?  To do?  Will he ever reunite with his faithful companion?  All of these loose ends await tying as we step fresh feet upon the docks of this unexplored land.  

Won't you take my hand and walk into the darkness?  

Lights...

Green?

Yellow?

Red?

There are no lights in the darkness of the hopeless.  We'll come together and find out where we all stand when the morning sun vanquishes our terrible night.