Drenches C. R. Tint

The celebrated defender of Melford. Now reborn.


Drenches C. R. Tint

Wizard of Annex

This relatively young Wizard has seen many brutal battles during his career and as such his body is a patchwork of faded scars. His hair is neatly pulled back from his face and his beard tied neatly with silver thread. His long worn goblin robes discarded, Drenches now favors attire more fitting his position. Pure white robes adorned with magical glyphs, masterwork silver embroidery and scales of the purest of dragonkind shroud his imposing form. Many glistening rings adorn his fingers, each with its own history and power. In his right hand he holds a plain oaken staff crowned with a small clear translucent crystal, his famed Staff of Light. Truly a formidable individual, a warrior of the people and now as a Wizard of Annex finally able to defend his rightful heroic title.


As Drenches Tint hastily departed on his journey from Blackwall all those years ago, he had no concept of how dramatically his life would change. An inexperienced apprentice thrust into the heat of battle, relying not only on his own instincts but those of his fellow companions. A disgraced swordsman, a calculating rogue and a misdirected man of God. So much time had passed since that first caravan ride to Melford, Hydras, Gods, Wizards, Undead, Dragons, Serpeants, deadly artifacts and even Demons of Ice. But he had battled them all and despite overwhelming odds had lived to tell the tales as a Great Wizard of Annex.
Now here he stood, on a parapet carved from the very rock of the mountains, high above the plains below, looking out over the village where he had first found purpose. The City of Melford, now ruled by his most trusted friend and companion Lord Earl Dahl, was not only his home but as he had foreseen, also his grave. As terrifying memories of flame and death stirred in his mind, he caught a glimpse of a familar face, that of a middle aged woman. Agony and terror contorted her face, as untamed magical energy erupted forth from her head, she was the key to preventing his visions becoming reality. It seemed despite all his accomplishments that the world still had its need for him and so as a smile began to develop on his wizened face, Drenches Tint took up his light bearing staff, whispered a few words of magic and vanished. Time for another small adventure.

Drenches C. R. Tint

Dragolin Fables: Tales of the 4th age samngliv Melfordite