'Twas a bitter cold evening in late Autumn, after a long and rainy day. The sky was as gray as slate. The twilight was split by long forked bolts of lightning that left an intricate pattern of phosphorescent trails in the evening sky over the tiny town of Moonglow. There was magic in the air.

Alone and lonely, C'dalia huddled in the deep shadows that ran furtively from the feeble light of her last candle. The pains came so strong and often now that she could no longer venture into the woods to gather limbs for the fire. The house had grown painfully cold as the last embers within the hearth had died hours before. She remembered the warm and loving embrace of N'jaal on that cold night last February. The cold had seemed so much friendlier then, it had merely brought them closer. When she though of the way that she had watched him die -- she let the tears flow freely.

Finally with a deep, lusty scream and the tearing of flesh the child came. The pain continued and the darkness beckoned. Exhausted, C'dalia gave in to the darkness, shed the pain, and left to join her beloved N'jaal.

Not far away a wandering healer heard C'dalia's death wail and ran to offer aid, but by the time he arrived at her side her spirit had fled. It was then that he noticed it, the deep violet glow that surrounded the boy-child. What magic was this? At a loss for what to do, he wrapped the child as best he could in rags of his mother's apron and set off into the bitter cold to find another of his kind; surely this boy-child would be a sorcerer of great stature one day!

The next full score of years were as uneventful as one could hope for in a tiny town full of powerful mages on the fringes of the great lands of Lord Britan, but even life on Trammel in the safe haven of Moonglow can be fraught with peril. One day well into his twentieth year, Kynbo was a might too curious with a tiny little stone that was unlike any that he had seen before. No one knows what compelled him to bury it amongst the wildflowers near the old cemetery. He recognized the moongate immediately. He had been warned to avoid them and he always had. He stepped back quickly, careened off of a tree that he had not noticed before, and stumbled right through the moongate...

...and nothing happened! ...or had it? It was nothing that he could see, but everything just "Felt" different. Even the magic currents that had flowed through him all of his life felt different, poisoned somehow. For several long minutes Kynbo wandered aimlessly around the cemetery unaware that there were savage eyes watching him, sizing up his potential. He never even saw it coming, just two quiet little words spoken behind a tree many paces away. "Corp por." ...and the world went black.

Kynbo lost everything that day, even the last scrap of his mother's apron, but his spirit was strong and burned with life. Disoriented and disembodied, his spirit drifted along the magical currents of the Otherworld back to his home. ...or at least its shadow partner on this accursed world. For he saw now, with the clarity that comes with recent and violent death, that he now found himself walking on or rather floating above the dreaded world of Felucca. It became in this moment his only purpose to find his way home.

Alone in a foreign world, Kynbo dared speak with no one. Any slight, no matter how small, might prove fatal upon the vile soil of Felucca. A cloud hung over his head as dark and brooding as the day he was born. So it was alone that he struggled for nearly two complete seasons. He knew that he needed to find the fabled Trammel Stones. He knew as well that there were terrible spirits who walked within the old cemetery clothed in the ruined remains of Moonglow's departed brothers. Maybe these walking undead might have the stones that he so desperately needed, but alas, there were souls more evil still who patrolled and savaged the cemetery grounds. There can be no soul more accursed than that of the man who kills another for mere sport.

Kynbo knew that he must grow strong enough of body and spirit to face these twin evils. He survived most days by taking small animals for their meat and pelts and by scavenging what reagents he could upon the countryside. Some days he didn't survive at all. Through it all were the faithful healers helping him through the roughest times, healing his most grievous injuries. Occasionally he would gather his courage and run to the cemetery to see if he was yet ready. Time and again, no matter the hour, he was rebuffed and left to return floating upon the magical currents to seek the healers' ministrations.

Even in the darkest of hours there can be an unexpected ray of light. For Kynbo it came in the form of a tall stranger dressed in gleaming white. Surely any warrior brave enough to walk among the bestial mages of Felucca's Moonglow garbed only in the purest white would have the spark of kindness within his heart to take pity upon him! Kynbo did his best to look virtuous enough to approach such a wondrous hero and spoke his first words of his unfortunate stay in Felucca, "Excuse me sir, but could you spare a Trammel Stone that I may return to my beloved home?" And so it was that Kynbo returned to his home in Trammel with a vow upon his lips never to return alone to the blackened earth of Felucca.

Realizing that he had now grown well beyond the cradle that was Moonglow and desiring greater (if safer) adventures, he set off to travel throughout the land of Britannia. He traveled far and had many adventures in these early years, but Moonglow was his home and his heart sang whenever he returned. Yet the wanderlust was great. There were many battles to fight and evil denizens to be dispatched to whatever hell had spawned them. Along the way he discovered his great joy in the healing arts. Perhaps it was his spirit longing to repay the kindness of so many selfless healers.

One day he grew weary of Minoc and Vesper (this was before he discovered the wonders of Cove) and he decided to strike out on the road to Yew. Along the way he was set upon by a great dire wolf that chased him well South of the Great North Road. Barely out of his apprenticeship, Kynbo was quickly overcome by the viscous beast. The last thing that he heard was the welcome voice of a champion who had arrived nearly in time. With all dispatch he slew the great beast and led Kynbo's lost spirit to yet another of the great wandering healers. The champion then spent hours training Kynbo all of the disciplines that he had failed to master during his apprenticeship at his home, The Tradesman.

In all of his subsequent travels Kynbo never really grew close to anyone and remained mostly to himself. He silently longed for the close fellowship of a guild, but could not ever find one whose ideals and pursuits were his own. For nearly a year he wandered in search of this elusive prize, ever failing. Then one day, as he sat despondent upon a twisted log deep in the forest, he remembered the champion and his abode. More specifically he remembered being shown a particular rune in a rune book on the patio; and a name: QSA.

He sprang to his feet and, forgetting his own runes in his excitement, ran all the way from North Britain to the champion's home. Upon arriving Kynbo was crushed to realize that he no longer remembered the hero's name. A curse upon failing memory! 'Twas but three moments before there was another visitor to The Tradesman. The new stranger was as helpful and courteous as the last and guided him straight-away to exactly the right rune and gave Kynbo the recall scroll that he needed to find his way to the QSA Guild Hall. It was with trembling hands and a grateful heart that he dropped the scroll into the rune book and activated the appropriate crystal. Had he known what the following month would be bringing him his knees would have surely trembled as well.

The guild hall was empty! With no one about and not wanting to trespass, he headed straight for the guestbook, penned a hopeful message, and quickly left to wait for word. The five days waiting for a pigeon from the queen's ambassador were long and painful. The pigeon, when it arrived, bore a shocking message. Kynbo found himself invited to attend a social gathering upon the next mid-week to see if he enjoyed their company. Such courtesy, even in Trammel, was something entirely new to him.

Evil forces gathered and compelled Kynbo to miss that fateful meeting, but even in the face of the great forces arrayed to thwart him he managed to release a pigeon to convey his deepest regrets, certain that he would be rebuffed. When the pigeon returned, severely battered, it carried glad news indeed! There would be another gathering mid-week, seven days hence and again he was encouraged to attend, and he did.

'Twas a magical and glorious night. The queen was radiant and gracious and took the time to acknowledge him, by name. He died no less than eight times and loved every minute of it. He was among friends worth dying for! This felt like home -- finally.

The very next week he attended yet another gathering and had the immense privilege of personally dying in the protection of the queen's person. Possibly in gratitude, Kynbo was inducted into the guild's ranks on this, only his second, meeting with the queen and promoted immediately to the coveted rank of Mage of the Crown. Most were too busy squabbling and sparring with one another to take notice of the single tear upon his cheek.