[Stug3]

I aquired a copy of the Whisper and after reading itI am surprised to find myself feeling a bit homesick. I should return home to look in on my parents one day soon. I have decided to keep the pages...

*The following is torn from the Dragon's Whisper...*
That potion in your pocket, the armor on your back, your shield, your arrows ever wonder who collected those materials for the craftsman?

My parents, Hildegard and Gunter, raised me in Leilon where they run an import-export business. I was raised well and never wanted for much, other than the adventure all young boys seek. I have nothing but fond memories of growing up under my parents tutelage. Leilon and the family business kept me busy and out of any real trouble. I am sure my father expected as did I, that I would take over from him when decided he had been at it long enough, but my mother I think she just new it would not be so. Mothers seem to receive True Seeing as a gift at the birth of their first child, as I got away with very little whenever she was around. Although I doubt she had any idea what would be the catalyst for that conclusion.

It was a fine day when I left with a caravan of war materials for the fight against Blood and his army a fine day to be totally destroyed a fine day to start a new life. I will not bore you with the details or I just may be sparing myself the pain remembering my own cowardice. That is how I gained the scar and lost my eye.

Everything changed after my escape and recovery. I could not go back to my life; I had changed too much to fit back in to the hole. Training long hours with blade and shield. I also worked with bows but having only one eye makes it hard to judge distance and as a result I am a laughingly bad bowman. I do carry one just for the off chance I find the broadside of a barn in need of smiting. I left home for anywhere months later and soon found myself in that quaint little town Hlint.

I hated Hlint and all it s inhabitants, weak, needing someones help for everything, never fending for themselves, taken advantage of by everyone, spineless like sheep. I can say now I no longer feel that way, Hlint like a fungus seems to have grown on me in these many months. I still venture in to Hlint as little as possible but not for any specific reasons. I find conversation tedious at best and feel I should be doing something, anything but sitting idly by gossiping about the weather or who is doing what. I don't wish to seem aloof, it is only I have this need to be doing something hence my scrounging service was born.
These lands hold a great wealth of skilled craftsmen; Armorers, Tailors, Brewers, Gem Smiths, the list is a long as some of the Elvin names you hear in town. I have very little wish to be a great craftsman, I need only to make what little I require to survive. With the enormous numbers of crafters I was seeing requests for this or that posted all over the inn and trade hall. I did a few jobs in Hlint but the ol' coin purse was awfully empty, necessity may be the mother of invention but poverty is the mother-in-law. I was sure that with all their time spent crafting the tedious job of collecting all the materials was not only distracting them from their chosen profession but somewhat boring or even dangerous for them.

No better job for me! What could be better than being outdoors, traveling the byways and paths of this land? I can fight when I want, or need to. I have no one to tell me what to do I am my own man. I have seen many amazing sights and met interesting folks from all over the land along the way. My ambitions are simple, complete contracts on time, in quantity and get paid I find satisfaction in delivering a requested quota. What will they do with it? What will it become? I have worked for many of the greatest smiths of this age, helped them to create exceptional items of beauty and power. I do not expect my customers to call me friend, only to call me when they need delivery...