A crack of distant thunder startled Grenshir as he walked through the woods on his daily scavenging run. Being a high class mage Grenshir took every opportunity to go hunt out spell components. Within minutes he felt faint drops of rain on the shoulders of his heavy cloak. �Storm�s in the air,� he murmured to himself, �Better be heading back to the house.� Rather than take his usual route through the fungus and spider web rich woods, fungus and spider web are prime spell components, he took the quick route to his left. It was less forested and thus easier to travel; he should make it back home in about 10 minutes, hopefully before the storm really began to pour.

About five minutes away from his destination Grenshir heard a faint gurgle in the bushes. At first the old mage thought it was a wounded animal, so he went to investigate hoping for an easy meal for the night, but when he pulled aside the brush he was surprised at the sight of a small human baby. It was wrapped in a coarse brown fabric a lot like that used to carry oats and barley. �Well the strong live, the weak die.� He said underneath his breath. �Poor thing, don�t know what�s wrong with you for you to end up out here but I�m not getting mixed up with you.� Then he left the baby and headed back to his house. He put the mushrooms that he had collected on his kitchen table, hung up his cloak, and then settled into his chair in front of the fire. Twenty minutes into a book detailing the incubation of dragon eggs he fell asleep, totally oblivious to any thought of the baby at all.

The next morning the old mage set out on his usual route, armed with his cloak, a heavy oak staff and a loaf of bread with wild strawberry jam for lunch. The forest was still wet from the cold rain of the night before, and as usual the forest was quiet and serene. Small animals scurried about; birds chirped and flew overhead, the perfect picture of peace and solitude. Grenshir took in a deep breath of fresh air and set out. As perfectly peaceful as the forest was though, he still sometimes longed for his old life in the town. The chaotic bustle and bubble of human traffic, the smells and sights of the market, the rhythmic clang of the blacksmith�s hammer, the foreign strangers who came from all over Mythra, he had been a part of it all once, before he had come to be known as Grenshir �The Senile.�

A frown creased his wizened face as the memory of it came back to him. He had been dabbling in the area of alchemy for a little while and one day he was toying with some lead and brimstone attempting to induce transformation when he accidentally tipped over the vat of brimstone. It quickly ate away at his wooden floor and incidentally at the leg of his table which crashed to the floor. The spell elements he had resting on the table mixed together producing a green fireball as the other townspeople had never seen before. It took 3 days for the burning to stop. As a result the town council deemed him senile. They said he was too old to be let perform experiments and practice magic within town limits safely. He was a danger to the townspeople and so was cast out. He was forced into solitude in Giant�s Forest. It was actually a pretty outdated name as the forest had been rid of giants years ago thanks to all the questing vigilante heroes trying to make a name for themselves. Anyway he had lived in the giantless-Giant�s Forest for more than 5 years now catching up on his reading and writing his spells into a giant mage book. Not that the book would do anyone any good seeing as how nobody would ever read it, but what else is there to do when you are as secluded as he was.

Grenshir snapped out of his reminiscing to realize that he had wandered off his path and out to where he had left the baby the night before. �Legs have a mind of their own,� he thought, �Well legs; I guess you want to know what happened to that baby. It�s certainly been eaten by now, as it would have died of the cold. Oh well, doesn�t hurt to check.� He brushed the bush aside again and to his complete astonishment the baby was still there, swaddled in sack cloth as he had left him, unharmed and quite alive. In amazement he bent and picked up the feeble creature. �Well now, by all rights you should be dead now. It was cold enough in that rain last night to give a barbarian orc the death chills and this forest is crawling with wolves that would�ve gladly snatched you up. Why are you here?� He stared into the infant�s eyes and the baby stared back into his with matched intensity. �There must be something special about you, I�m not sure whether it�s good or bad, but be you heavenly spirit or demon there is definitely magic about you, and as I am a mage it is my duty to observe you and your magic. I guess I have to take you home.� He then began to head back to the house with the baby in his arms. The infant never cried on the way home, but he did coo at one point to which the mage responded, �For magic and nothing else.�

Once inside Grenshir swept his spell components and writings to the side to clear a space for the baby. He set the infant down on the table and eyed him suspiciously. �Alright, now what sort of magic do you bring into my house little one?� He lifted one leg, then the other, looking for oddities, and also determining that it was male. He probed the youngsters head then gently turned him over. �Well what�s this?� In between the infant�s shoulder blades was a black symbol, a snake devouring a world, and some writing underneath it. �I know I have seen this symbol before� but where? It�s definitely a magic symbol, and this writing is draconic. Levex darastrix-sthyr. Enchanted dragon-man? But this is definitely not a half-dragon� It has no tail, no sharpened teeth, no claws, it is human in all respects. Hmmm� Well I guess I�m gonna have to keep you after all, just to figure out what is so damned different about you.� He flipped the baby over to face him again and then realized he�d ought to give the boy a name. �Hmmm, was never very good at names��He glanced around the room seeking inspiration, then his eyes settled upon his ash end-table. �Very well, you�re name shall be Table, son of Grenshir.� The boy cooed in delight. Then the old mage went to the pantry looking for something to feed the boy, after all it had been without food for Gaaryn knows how long. Eventually he realized he only had water, bread, jam, some deer steak and wine. �Well little fella,� he said, �You care for some wine?�

14 Years Later

�Table!� Grenshir called out, his voice shattering the quiet of the forest. Table rose from his reading spot at the edge of the small fish pond in front of his house. He lay down the book that he had been reading and then headed back to the house where the old mage was impatiently waiting.

�I know.� Table started to say as he walked in the door but Grenshir cut him off with a snappy reply, �No you can�t know! Otherwise, this,� His bony finger stabbed the air indicating a mop and bucket in the corner. �would be done by now. Honestly, I brought you home thinking that there was some kind of magic about you and to this day the only thing magical that I have observed is that you can eat all the food in this house and still not have enough energy to do an ounce of work!�