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I am Titus Viathon Rune. Ex Titus Coventry. My life is one of sorrow, one of loss, and the last of a noble line. By all accounts I am my fathers bastard son, Pelor Bless his spirit. I began my life I know not how, only that I was found by pirates on a desert beach lying not ten feet from a shallow pit scorched to glass, far from known waters on some gods-forsaken corner of the ocean. There, for some reason, I was spared and raised aboard their ship until my third year. It was in this year that those same pirates were taken by a naval vessel. By some miracle I survived the battle, apparently I was bundled up inside a coil of rope and when I was removed I bit and clawed at those nearby like some wild animal, or so I was told. After this I spent the next two years aboard that vessel, again spared for some reason. It was here, by all accounts, that I was “tamed” and here that I won the hearts of an entire crew. Thos days are all a blur to me, although I still receive the occasional missive from one old officer who took me under his wing. What I know of these early years of my life I learned from him.
After my first five sea-fairing years I was taken to port and then to a Temple for tutelage in the city bearing the same symbol as the amulet I was found with. It’s a simple trinket really, one of bronze, but bearing the crest of an entire city on one side and the inscription “Live Rune” on the back, an inscription I would come to use many times in later years and that would eventually lead me to my true name and heritage, but I digress.
In the Temple I was taught to read and write, I was given a name and an education in history, science, mathematics, and the arts. I was taught the names of all of the good Gods, and I was taught to rêver them. As I grew older I grew restless, impatient with my lessons, it grew so that if I wasn’t found in the library reading books others had forbidden me I was trying to escape the confines of the Temple walls. For this reason I was beaten, “disciplined” they said. I still don’t believe those words…
In any case, when I was fourteen I came into my own and my arcane magical potential truly emerged. Shortly after this a missive was sent to the White Tower and someone was sent to collect me. I was adopted by the Patriarch of the family Coventry, an old and revered noble line with a history of wizardry dating back to it’s very founding. I was told that my magical potential was such that the adoption was more than warranted. I rose quickly, learning and absorbing lesson after lesson, I grew in power and knowledge. But for me this was not enough, questions plagued my young mind and my origins loomed over my like an ogre over a halfling.
Following the only clue I had, the bronze amulet left with me as a babe, I searched through dusty tomes and books of town lore until I finally stumbled upon the family name “Rune” in a tome dating back to the city’s founding. In this Book of Names I found a short and obscure family tree, but no references in any of the books I had read of any of the names on it but two, one Tertius Farling Rune referred to as Lord Farling, and an Ambrosia Shay Ryvain. This last name was a mystery, it had clearly been written in haste by an experienced hand and, by all accounts as an afterthought. It didn’t have the embellishments of the other names, it didn’t carry the traditional “Rune” family name, it was clearly Elven, and it was conjoined to Tertius Farling Rune. From this I surmised an informal betrothal late in acceptance, if accepted at all. Following this thread I sought the town records for any Elven families by the name “Ryvain”, none emerged. Then, by chance and late one night as I was talking to one of my teachers, an aged Wizard by the mane of Vos Kullery, I mentioned to him my search and the name Ryvain. To my astonishment he recognized the name! What’s more he recalled a tale of some scandal within the courts the year before my birth. Apparently the Rune household, once rich in renown and wealth but fallen from grace after a dept unpaid and poor financial judgment, had been publicly disgraced due to the actions of their son. He had fallen in love with an Eleven emissary and had run away with her, this not only put the graces of the kingdom in jeopardy but also placed his family in the awkward position of explaining his actions to the existing nobility. Without a clear reason for their prodigal son’s actions their disgrace was final and they left Dragon’s Eye for regions unknown. That son was Lord Tertius Farling, he returned a year later in secret only to break into the Hall of Records. He was caught of course, but not before he had completed his task. Refusing to reveal why he had acted in this manner he was summarily imprisoned. He died a weak later of unknown causes.
This was it, my heritage, I am the illegitimate son of a disgraced noble family, forgotten, lost, but now returned. I proceeded to re-claimed my family name, and took on a new one to boot. Being the youngest adopted son of a noble family already I was entitled to nothing, no land, no wealth but what was gifted to me by my betters. Better I be a wealthless and titleless Rune and be true to my blood than be a wealthless and titleless Coventry. My adopted family supported my decision, vowing to continue their support of me on condition that if I come by the means that I repay them, this vow I made with pleasure.
My title re-claimed and the history of my heritage mostly solved I committed myself to my studies. I found myself fascinated by the nature of the enemy, the undead, and committed myself also to fighting them. This led me back to my first house and family, the Temple of Pelor. Here I studied again, but this time to become a Cleric. How did I study to become clergy and maintain my duties in the White Tower? A gift from professor Vos Kullery, a Ring of Sustenance. With his aid I convinced the Council to allow me to study Clerical and Arcane magic in hopes of becoming a liaison between the two magical powers of the Dragon’s Eye, also I suspect that the Council was eager to have one of their own learn of Divine magic in hopes of learning the secret to healing magic. Pity for them my allegiance is my own, and neither shall gain the secrets of the other, not by my hand in any case.
Still, the mystery of the city Crest and my mother allude me, they play on my mind. How did she die? What does the crest mean? Who was she? Questions I hope to answer in time.
I have been the inter-magical liaison of Dragon’s Eye for four years now, and in this time I have successfully negotiated and coordinated numerous efforts from both the White Tower and the Clergy of various Temples around the City. Two years ago I was approached by a representative of the Council of the White Tower. I was told to select and begin training another ambassador. The council is no doubt tired of trying to make me divulge secrets I have sworn to keep and have decided to take another approach. Naturally I accepted, I negotiated with the High-priest of the temple of Heironeous to instruct the young Wizard and within a year he has proven himself most apt as well. I suspects that the Council is having as much trouble with him as they did with me, the Temples have was of ensuring their secrets remain such, and even if the “secrets” of healing magic were divulged I doubt very much that any Wizard could do much with the information. The Arcane and the Divine are wholly separate magics, and their mechanics differ to great a degree for one to duplicate the other. Of course the High-Priests of the Temples know this but the efforts of the White Tower amuse them to no end, in truth it’s all one big joke at the expense of the White Tower.
My mind is such that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I must continue my line. I wish to raise the Rune name again to noble standing.
I am alone, alone like no other. I am the last of my line, and a Half-Elf to boot, a Wizard, feared and respected not because of my name but rather because of the power I wield and the name attached to that power, The White Tower. All I have loved has been fleeting, mother, family, hollow words. All that matters is nobility, title, power, wealth, honor, and blood, everything else seems to crumble and fall before the tides of time and life. Trust is earned but broken too easily, love conquers but is too fleeting to rely on. I wish to learn more, see more, know more, and truly experience all that it means to live. I want to discover the truth behind my mother and the crest, to help end this blight of the undead, and find happiness and solace in knowing that my family name will live on, hopefully with some land and wealth behind it. This is a page of my diary, published and written by myself for any and all to read. Be not mistaken, I have my secrets, as do we all, our proverbial skeletons in the closet, but I assure you, all I write here is true, and the truth shall set you free. At least this is my hope.
After my first five sea-fairing years I was taken to port and then to a Temple for tutelage in the city bearing the same symbol as the amulet I was found with. It’s a simple trinket really, one of bronze, but bearing the crest of an entire city on one side and the inscription “Live Rune” on the back, an inscription I would come to use many times in later years and that would eventually lead me to my true name and heritage, but I digress.
In the Temple I was taught to read and write, I was given a name and an education in history, science, mathematics, and the arts. I was taught the names of all of the good Gods, and I was taught to rêver them. As I grew older I grew restless, impatient with my lessons, it grew so that if I wasn’t found in the library reading books others had forbidden me I was trying to escape the confines of the Temple walls. For this reason I was beaten, “disciplined” they said. I still don’t believe those words…
In any case, when I was fourteen I came into my own and my arcane magical potential truly emerged. Shortly after this a missive was sent to the White Tower and someone was sent to collect me. I was adopted by the Patriarch of the family Coventry, an old and revered noble line with a history of wizardry dating back to it’s very founding. I was told that my magical potential was such that the adoption was more than warranted. I rose quickly, learning and absorbing lesson after lesson, I grew in power and knowledge. But for me this was not enough, questions plagued my young mind and my origins loomed over my like an ogre over a halfling.
Following the only clue I had, the bronze amulet left with me as a babe, I searched through dusty tomes and books of town lore until I finally stumbled upon the family name “Rune” in a tome dating back to the city’s founding. In this Book of Names I found a short and obscure family tree, but no references in any of the books I had read of any of the names on it but two, one Tertius Farling Rune referred to as Lord Farling, and an Ambrosia Shay Ryvain. This last name was a mystery, it had clearly been written in haste by an experienced hand and, by all accounts as an afterthought. It didn’t have the embellishments of the other names, it didn’t carry the traditional “Rune” family name, it was clearly Elven, and it was conjoined to Tertius Farling Rune. From this I surmised an informal betrothal late in acceptance, if accepted at all. Following this thread I sought the town records for any Elven families by the name “Ryvain”, none emerged. Then, by chance and late one night as I was talking to one of my teachers, an aged Wizard by the mane of Vos Kullery, I mentioned to him my search and the name Ryvain. To my astonishment he recognized the name! What’s more he recalled a tale of some scandal within the courts the year before my birth. Apparently the Rune household, once rich in renown and wealth but fallen from grace after a dept unpaid and poor financial judgment, had been publicly disgraced due to the actions of their son. He had fallen in love with an Eleven emissary and had run away with her, this not only put the graces of the kingdom in jeopardy but also placed his family in the awkward position of explaining his actions to the existing nobility. Without a clear reason for their prodigal son’s actions their disgrace was final and they left Dragon’s Eye for regions unknown. That son was Lord Tertius Farling, he returned a year later in secret only to break into the Hall of Records. He was caught of course, but not before he had completed his task. Refusing to reveal why he had acted in this manner he was summarily imprisoned. He died a weak later of unknown causes.
This was it, my heritage, I am the illegitimate son of a disgraced noble family, forgotten, lost, but now returned. I proceeded to re-claimed my family name, and took on a new one to boot. Being the youngest adopted son of a noble family already I was entitled to nothing, no land, no wealth but what was gifted to me by my betters. Better I be a wealthless and titleless Rune and be true to my blood than be a wealthless and titleless Coventry. My adopted family supported my decision, vowing to continue their support of me on condition that if I come by the means that I repay them, this vow I made with pleasure.
My title re-claimed and the history of my heritage mostly solved I committed myself to my studies. I found myself fascinated by the nature of the enemy, the undead, and committed myself also to fighting them. This led me back to my first house and family, the Temple of Pelor. Here I studied again, but this time to become a Cleric. How did I study to become clergy and maintain my duties in the White Tower? A gift from professor Vos Kullery, a Ring of Sustenance. With his aid I convinced the Council to allow me to study Clerical and Arcane magic in hopes of becoming a liaison between the two magical powers of the Dragon’s Eye, also I suspect that the Council was eager to have one of their own learn of Divine magic in hopes of learning the secret to healing magic. Pity for them my allegiance is my own, and neither shall gain the secrets of the other, not by my hand in any case.
Still, the mystery of the city Crest and my mother allude me, they play on my mind. How did she die? What does the crest mean? Who was she? Questions I hope to answer in time.
I have been the inter-magical liaison of Dragon’s Eye for four years now, and in this time I have successfully negotiated and coordinated numerous efforts from both the White Tower and the Clergy of various Temples around the City. Two years ago I was approached by a representative of the Council of the White Tower. I was told to select and begin training another ambassador. The council is no doubt tired of trying to make me divulge secrets I have sworn to keep and have decided to take another approach. Naturally I accepted, I negotiated with the High-priest of the temple of Heironeous to instruct the young Wizard and within a year he has proven himself most apt as well. I suspects that the Council is having as much trouble with him as they did with me, the Temples have was of ensuring their secrets remain such, and even if the “secrets” of healing magic were divulged I doubt very much that any Wizard could do much with the information. The Arcane and the Divine are wholly separate magics, and their mechanics differ to great a degree for one to duplicate the other. Of course the High-Priests of the Temples know this but the efforts of the White Tower amuse them to no end, in truth it’s all one big joke at the expense of the White Tower.
My mind is such that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I must continue my line. I wish to raise the Rune name again to noble standing.
I am alone, alone like no other. I am the last of my line, and a Half-Elf to boot, a Wizard, feared and respected not because of my name but rather because of the power I wield and the name attached to that power, The White Tower. All I have loved has been fleeting, mother, family, hollow words. All that matters is nobility, title, power, wealth, honor, and blood, everything else seems to crumble and fall before the tides of time and life. Trust is earned but broken too easily, love conquers but is too fleeting to rely on. I wish to learn more, see more, know more, and truly experience all that it means to live. I want to discover the truth behind my mother and the crest, to help end this blight of the undead, and find happiness and solace in knowing that my family name will live on, hopefully with some land and wealth behind it. This is a page of my diary, published and written by myself for any and all to read. Be not mistaken, I have my secrets, as do we all, our proverbial skeletons in the closet, but I assure you, all I write here is true, and the truth shall set you free. At least this is my hope.
