The memories edge now dulled from the battle that is life on Dereth, I attempt to remember family. Mother, of caring heart and warm hearth, of loving comfort and fresh breads, a woman of the earth and family. Father, now of field and wheat, a warrior whose sword was beaten to plough by the hammer of wars, and who with an odd mix of disappointment and pride indulged the boyish whims of his only daughter, e’en to teaching me the manner of stringing bow and nocking arrow. Oh dearest Aileen! Sweet sister, with eyes of blue innocence, I do miss you the most. Then brother, whose sibling dare did cause a younger sister to not just touch, but to jump, into an odd pink circle appearing in our father’s corn field. Poor, dear Niall, how I long to reach cross the void that separates us, my touch to caress away what guilt you must feel. To let you know, that I am safe and well, and that I have found my happiness in the way of the warrior.

Now, nearly a fortnight gone I had reached my rank of twenty. I think upon those who have taken me in, named me friend and sister, rescued me in time of need, taught me out of ignorance, and consoled me in time of sorrow. Sleeping Tiger, now my sworn, who saved every pyreal to buy me armor and a good bow. Yadela, whose eagerness to explore the land brought me to places I’d never dreamed of reaching on my own. Ninadin, dear brother, who guided me in skill and accomplishment. Nina, my dearest sister, she who is my mentor and my common sense, and dearest Djams, my heart and soul. There is too, Itzit, of constancy and friendship, always my last hope in this sometimes-dark world. Ice Falcon, who upon my word brought self and friends into our Clan, and Icedragon, friend and ally from almost my first days. There are others too, both named and nameless, my sisters and brothers in the Clan, strangers who aided, and all, though not writ here, share part in this my accomplishment. And for that, the grandchildren of my grandchildren with honor and respect shall speak their names.

But there is one more, who deserves special note, and thus the story that follows.

In Hebian-To, upon reaching the level of 6^th, I ventured often to the wilds in effort to keep modest pace with the accomplishments of my comrades. Alas, despite their best efforts on my behalf, and my own lack of knowledge in the value of arms and armor, I fared poorly for my lack of skill and equipment. I had saved a modest sum of coin with the hope of perhaps purchasing a better bow, or helm. As I stood before the weaponsmith’s stall, counting with vain hope my meager earnings, a strong but gentle voice spake my name. I must confess, I did startle, for I had learned to be wary of strangers in this land, as there were one too many who would lift your purse, or steal your goods with little thought or conscience. The kind smile did little to allay my fears. With a slight frown, his experienced eyes did sum up my coin in short order. Without further word he reached into his own purse and handed me several notes of some value. I was stunned, though not so foolish as to be swayed by the show of money. Noting my continuing suspicion with a grin, this stranger then produced a coat of some brown hide. "Sell your leather", he advised, "this is much lighter, and is of better quality". "But," he added, "As I give this to you as a gift, you shall not sell it, but give to another, as I give it to you". I managed to stammer some words of thanks, I think, but he brushed them politely aside. "My only regret is that I do not have a better bow to give you". "If you ever come to Cragstone, perhaps I may provide you one". With a wave, and a kind goodbye, this gentleman turned to leave. "One moment good sir!" I blurted, "Your name, I don’t believe I know your name". He turned again towards me. "Brell", he stated simply, "and if you are ever in need, ask for it in my name". With that he was gone.

Little did I know, that in that chance encounter, one day I would swear fealty to this man, and that in doing so, I would come again among family. Yes, though not the family of my blood, still yet a family. A family born of blood and sacrifice, honor and friendship. For Brell, upon one spring day, did see fit to speak my name, and thus gave me gift that I shall never be able to repay. To you milord, goes honor of my 20^th level.