Posted by Dorath(Lucktey) on September 27, 2000 at 09:00:32:
Greetings, reader. My name is T'kar, a historian for an On a summers breeze, close to the evening, a gnome with the Throughout the years, Dorath was known as the white haired Having found a safe heaven, the woods west of Galadon, he The sun stood high, shining down the power of life. Ready for A crackling sound awoke Dorath. A tiny living being struggled Years later he left his cabin and the woods. As a reminder
eternity. We, spirits, do not usually interfere or watch the
mortals. Most of us have settled themselves in their ancient
family homes. But being once a mortal bard, I would hate not
to record and tell a good story. And as commingly known,
mortal life is filled with twists and turns that can sooth
the ear of any listener. This time I have chosen to record
the life of Dorath. Although his story is far from finnished,
you are welcome to read it as it unvolds.
most peculiar hair was born. Within the mountains, north-east
from Udgaard, two gnomish parents gathered their first
glances of their youngster. The birth of wizards is always
marked by a yellow aura around the child when it open its
eyes for the very first time. And as usual, knowing that the
village only existed out of magi, this would happen. But
not this day. As Dorath opened his eyes and cried out for
air, nothing special happened. As his parents looked down
upon him in frustration, no words of joy were spoken. The
town had its first untalented gnome. Unimaginable.
freak. Not able to cast the simpliest spells. Even after
about 80 years, only the chants of invisibility and how
to detect the magical hidden, were known to him. Unacceptable
for his folk. I know he tried his best to make his parents
proud, but nothing worked. Losing his self-esteem quickly,
he began to act differently. Making jokes about himself
and the world he lived in. I knew he would crack. Noone
could stand such abuse by his own blood for long. On a
winters night, he turned his head in a last glance of his
village, and set foot towards the unknown. To the warmer
south.
begin to live his life anew. No longer worried by his past,
but still broken inside. Days shifted by gently. The winter
past on, as did the spring. The summer finally arrived.
Deers were darting, birds singing. Oooh, what a fine time
to live in...
his morning walk, Dorath stood outside a cabin he found. He
had been studying all night long, trying to teach himself how
to control the magick that runs through his veins, even though
that was never accepted by his own kin. This was the day that
Dorath would amaze me. Walking amongst the large trees covered
in fresh green, he stumbled to upon a tiny coccoon. Curious
as for what it was, he focused his tiny blue eyes and observed.
Hours went by... Days passed on slowly. Dorath was determined
to find out what it was and so he never shifted his gaze from
it.
its way to freedom, away from the hard shell. Emerging from
its shelter, the butterfly slithered slowly to a place within
the sun. As it dried its wings in the warmth of the sun, the
gnome poundered. Something had happened. And it will change
his life forever. Dorath stood up, glancing at the skies
above and yelled out. "I understand!" Running back to his
cabin, he began to practice. The chant of winds. As if
always known, he felt the magic. The power ran through his
very veins.
to those who would use the cabin as a shelter, he wrote
these words upon the door. "Live your life to the fullest.
But respect those who live without care. Hurt no creature
within these woods but watch them as they live the right
path. For our death is not the end but a transgression.
The spirits of the wild lead you, visitor."