Akseli av Norwick - Wywernywin
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He sat in the corner. How many nights had it been? Days mixed into one jumbled mess. So much death. Grief had rendered him incapable of doing anything except stare at the empty house. His parents' savings would soon run out, and he would be thrown out.
It began as simple flu. Nothing to be worried about, they had said. It would pass. But it didn't. It grew worse day by day. The young boy saw his mother wither away to a disease that should have been preventable. It should have been, but it was not. She slept away quietly.
The boy watched his father succumb to the same illness. Father had always been one to work hard. He had to, to provide for the family. But working sick is no laughing matter. They said his heart gave out while cutting logs for the cold winter nights.
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Few years had passed. The grief was gone, but loneliness remained. He had noticed that these so called "adventurers" seemed capable of dealing with nearly any threat. Mages such as the great senator Maria would defeat nearly all foes, while priests could bring back dead that were barely more than a pile of minced meat. Magic seemed the answer to all issues in life.
Then it happened. One of those carelss adventurers - perhaps that rediculous bard in bell-armor - had dropped a scroll on the street. It was but a simple scroll of Ray of Frost, barely worth a day's meal. But to him it seemed a sign, a key to unlocking the doorway to, quite literally, magical wonderland. He set about studying the scroll every night, until one night he began to see the logic in the runes.
Journal, entry #1
"I think I've finally found the path. Soon I won't need to to fear death again. I can reunite with my family.
Jergal doesn't seem to answer to my prayers. Perhaps Mystra, or one of the other deities of magic?"
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