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Galdor dipped his quill into the small vial of ink, it sizzled with a mystical energy as the ink was soaked up. He carefully drew the glyphs and symbols on the stiff parchment. He smiled at his work, he progressed far quicker than anticipated for it was still his first week on this page. Some complex tomes could take many years to copy in detail.
He sat back in his chair with a familiar creak, the old wood groaning after countless years of service to the church. He stared outside his window, autumn had recently ended and the weather was cooling far quicker than he would have liked. Whilst the church was well- built, the ancient structure failed to keep the freezing wind from the mountainside at bay.
Outside in the courtyard young children played, the church often cared for young orphans or children that parents could not look after. They were brought up by the priest of Lathander. They are taught to read and write and some even get to learn a trade. Once they matured and are able to support themselves they are then free to choose their own future. Some choose to remain in the church as a young acolyte. Some even choose to head into the wilderness to help maintain the temples.
Galdor move to the fireplace eager to thaw the chill that was numbing his hands. He poured himself a cup of hot tea and walked back to the window and watched the young children play, his hands wrapped around the cup enjoying the warmth as it flowed into his cold fingers. His mind slowly wandered as he stood by the window, recalling the stories the priests told him of his arrival to the church.
On a dark stormy night the priest were awakened by someone banging on the door late at night. Lyroke, the elder priest answered the door. An old squat lady held a child in her arms wrapped in a cloth. She came across the baby on her travels, she did not know who the parents were or why the baby was left on its own. For many months Lyroke had alerted both nearby communities and those far away of the child, but nobody new anything of a missing child.
Orphans are not uncommon in these wild and savage lands. Galdor was raised from a new born child, never knowing anything about who his parents were, where he came from or if they were alive.
Elves are not very common in the surrounding area, the only community being a small town deep withing the forest. Friction between the Elves and rural communities over the years has caused alot of animosity between the races, the Elves not appreciating their homeland diminishing for the expansion of humanity.
Galdor had travelled to both the Elven town and the Human towns that were nearby, he hoped his mixed heritage would allow him to become a mediator, a representative of both cultures. It was one of the most painful experiences he ever went through. He was not accepted by either culture. Humans called him a bastard Elf whilst the Elves claimed that he was Human.
Whilst Lathander accepted people of all races, most of the priests came from this region and bore some the local prejudice. Whilst there was no open conflict, the constant whispering, rumour spreading and other political games within the church were a strain on a young boy. Lyroke cared for Galdor as a son, but he was old and frail, he was very ill for the last few years had spent most of his time bed- ridden.
Lyroke was not a local, he travelled the lands and became a brave adventurer. He always claimed he was a victim of circumstance rather than a foolhearted adventurer, but he saw the same sparkle in Galdor's eyes. He recognised his gifts and he had learnt some minor cantrips from visiting magi. Lyroke knew that Galdor's life within the church would become significantly harder with his passing. Whilst Galdor was a very capable scribe, he knew he would be nothing more if left in the church.
Lyroke had decided that Galdor would be transferred to the temple near the city of Shadow. It was the closest city which had a tower for wizards to practice their arts. It would also distance him from the clergy that did not accept those of Elven heritage. He also heard that Elves were more common in that region.
Galdor heard the fire crackle and it briefly disrupted his thoughts. Vapours from his tea filled his nose with its sweet aroma. A howling wind picked up outside, he looked outside his window as the children were rounded up by father Tyron. He was a plump priest who relished the holy wine a little too much, he waddled after the children that ran around in the wind like dizzy kittens.
Galdor couldnt help but chuckle, it wasn't long ago that he was one of the children running around from the grasp of Lyroke. He was a young man now, turned fourteen and at the end of the week he is to travel to a distant land. That thought both excited and saddened him, he had wanted to study the mystical arts for a long time after being taught some cantrips. He would miss the church, miss his work as a scribe and most of all miss Lyroke.
That night his sleep was disturbed by a strange dream. Galdor was wandering through the forest, he was lost and the weather was turning bleak. Thunder and lightning gave the forest a foreboading atmosphere. Voices of a young maiden echoed through the forest, the voice was feminine and it was soft and melodius. He couldn't recall what he heard but the words comforted him.
In his dream a dark sinister shadow passed nearby sending a chill through his spine, a dark gutteral voice assaulted his mind. Galdor's heart raced as he felt the sensation of him falling, in the darkness unable to see. It felt like he fell for an eternity until he came crashing through treetops. Somehow his fall was not painful, he landed within the branches of a tree, it was as if the tree had gathers a vast pile of leaves it its branches to break his fall.
Ever since that night his dreams were filled with the soft song of a female voice, the trees would also call him. He would climb into their brances and sleep within their limbs, they swayed in the breeze and held him tight and safe throughout the night, the dark shadow always nearby but kept at bay by the singing maiden, each night her singing became slightly softer, and the dark shadow came closer.
For many years Galdor studied in Shadow, he also worked hard in the temple keeping it clean and safe for visitors. He received news from the church that Lyroke had passed away in his sleep. Galdor prayed to the Morninglord to take care of his friend and guardian. He grew restless within the church, he spent most of his time exploring when not studying or working in the temple.
His wanderlust always got the better of him, he wandered deep into the forests of Laerad, the swamps north of Daggerdale and the islands of Aramanth, Graez, the Pirates Cove and a lost island full of terrible lizards. Much of this exploring was done whilst he still could only master the minor magic of his craft.
Galdor spent most of his time alone, he did not deal well with people, particularly when dealing with matters outside the church or his studies. He spent most of his time travelling through the forests, admiring their beauty.
One day he stumbled upon a young elven priestess of Silvanus, she was shaken by a number of attacks by drow villains. He spent some time looking after her, protecting her from attackers. He watched over her to ensure her safety, whilst he did they got to know each- other, she was the first real friend he had since Lyroke passed away fourteen years ago.
She had delved deep into his heart, she wouldn't accept the distance he sought emotionally for she sought answers as to what it was that troubled his soul. She found a darkness withing his heart, something the dark shadow sought to release many years ago. It was safely hidden behind his walls, but it was released.
She also helped him realise the meaning of his dreams and helped him accept his true calling, to help Mielikki in her time of need. He brooded for some time before he had the courage to speak to the Morninglord. He followed his heart and accepted his punishment. He spent the time concerntrating on him studies.
A great weight had been lifted from his soul, he followed the goddess Mielikki and strove to help her in her fight against the dark shadow. Galdor advanced his skills, eager to gain the strength needed to be able to help Mielikki fight the darkness that assaulted her.
He delved into the forbidden tomes of Necromancy and Demonology in a vain attempt to find information on the coming darkness. Galdor had learnt some valuable information, but the darkness had taken its toll and he had troubles keeping his own darkness at bay.
His friendship with the young elven maiden became strained and eventually fell apart, he brooded and set upon a solitaire life. He practiced his magical arts and travelled through the forests clearing them of evil and attempting to find an answer to save Mielikki.
Eager to test his strength against the evil he set forth into the caves of the underdark alone and entered the temple of the drow, day and night he fought against the savage drow and vile driders until he solved the mystery within the temple, bringing back treasures and knowledge of a sinister foe.
Galdor's skill began to grow and he set forth on an adventure, lead by the Voadkyn known as Vrax, to slay the mighty Emerald Dragon. In a final battle fought in the streets of Azha, the dragon assaulted the warriors. Within moments the mighty dragon fell, the brave Voadkyn carrying its gem of power.
Galdor relished his ability to wield both destructiv and protective magic, he now looks to the future. Mielikki is his only concern, her protection the burning fire in his heart and soul. He would gladly lay down his life sacrificing his mind, body and soul for her protection. He awaits the coming darkness and the final battle, no long caring about his own mortality he prepares for the battle to come, he is well aware that it will most likely be his last fight within the realms of the living.