Viktus was in meditation at a clearing not far from camp. His band of freedom fighters called the Guardians were hard at work, preparing for a raid operation on a caravan of supplies. Viktus however, was using nature as vital tool, by communing with it he could learn everything within the area he was attached too. So far nothing out the ordinary was in his area of influence and for that he could only be thankful.

His guardians were a well trained band of militia fighters who had joined him when they could no longer stand the Elemental King and his atrocities. Some had lost children, others had lost their entire families in the carnage of war. Everyday Viktus was reminded of this loss when he thought of his home, now completely wiped off the map. What kept him going was hope that one day the prophecy would become true and that he could build a new home for himself and others.

His campaign had not been easy. The soldiers and others with powers had long been a major issue with his Guardians and they were hunted, always on the move. Right now they were stationed out in a grotto, away from prying eyes of townsfolk loyal with the King. Soon, they would move again after the raid on the caravans. It would happen soon, that much everyone knew, so they were on high alert.