History

I come from a modest farming family near the capital city of Tethyr, Darromar (once known as Ithmong). I was born in the wilderness (Flamerule in 1350) while my family was in hiding yet again from another corrupt regime trying to gather power at the cost of the good will of the people. Growing up was a constant struggle against the chaotic aftermath of the Alemandrian Interrengum; watching the powerful few oppress those who would take what was not theirs.

In my eighth year, still amidst the chaos, my life changed. My family had once again moved back into the family home. In what was to be a simple trip to market, my father, brother and I were caught up in a riot in Ithmong. I was knocked senseless from our cart. I awoke later in the care of a Mystran temple with no memory of who or where I was. In the following days, the clerics tended to my wounds, both physical and mental. Soon I was ready to attempt the return to my family. But on the day I was to leave, a “ripple” of cold passed through the temple, a sapping of energy. The occupants of the temple fell into a malaise the like of which I had never seen before. I tended to them as best as an eight year old could (they seemed lost and afraid as I had been), wanting to repay them as best I could. Then suddenly the temple “rippled” again, this time with renewing power. The feeling lingered for a while and then faded and the clerics regained their composure. This was my first experience with the Weave. I asked them what they happened and they explained, late into the night, about the nature of 

Page 1

Next