I guess I should back up a little before I begin.
My name is Fitzdale Sparkspring, but everyone just calls me Fitz. I was born and still live in the city of Silverymoon. My parents, Geto and Lumella, have been in Silverymoon for a little over a century now. They both work at the Vault of the Sages. Mother is a historian and works on sorting, filing, and translating the thousands and thousands of historical documents in the vast archives there. Father is a master craftsman who makes amazing mechanical locks and contraptions that serve as deterrents for anyone foolish enough to attempt to steal anything from the vault. Myself, well I suppose you could call me a curious tinker that is still trying to unravel the path that Gond wants me to pursue. I spent most of my youth helping mother and the other sages in the archives. I learned history, science, zoology, how to read and write several languages, and how to research any subjust that caught my fancy. My father spent evenings teaching me how to use his crafting tools, how to build wind-up toys, and the theories behind alchemy. Life was pretty mudane until recently.
Last winter my parents enrolled me in The Lady’s College, the renowned magic school here in Silverymoon, when I stumbled upon a scroll and was able to cast the spell without any training. They said it was far too dangerous for me not to have formal training with my knack for learning how things work. School was quite easy so I wound up having a lot of free time on my hands wating for the other students in my class to catch up. I must have caused a little too much mischief with the pranks I inflicted on the other students with all that free time. The teachers convinced a ‘fellow’, the term for a visiting post-graduate student, to become my mentor and take me on as an apprentice. I suspect this was only meant to keep me occupied between classes. A couple months later they asked me to stop attending classes. It seems my master, a stout dwarf named Magus Nesgim, had explained that I learned so quickly that the methodical teachings in the standard cirriculum would hold my progress back. Personally I think he is just lazy because all I have been doing the past month is running errands fetching ingredients from local farms and herbalist shops.
I think that is enough rambling about my past to get you caught up.
Yesterday Magus Nesgim sent me on yet another errand. This time, to fetch some Goldenseal root and Slippery elm at an herbalist shop in a nearby town called Eastbrook. This shop is known to stock products brought in by the elves from the forest to the north. You might think these to be rare mystical spell components for an enchantment or illusion, but they are only for making a tincture to soothe his sore throat after spending all day chanting spells.
Eastbrook is about 50 miles west of Silverymoon, going out through the Moongate. This is far beyond the relative safety of the city, so Magus Nesgim paid to have one of the city guards accompany me. Veck is a grizzled veteran of the guard, but he is really kind and gentle for a human. He must think I am just a child because he often hoists me up and carries me on his shoulders. He could be trying to give me a better view, or maybe its that we can travel faster with his long strides matching 3 of mine.
to be continued …