The Diary of Santos

As I seem to have picked up adventuring and one day may be idolized by the young, the rejected and the vengeful, I have decided that I must begin a record to record such heroics. (Of course, now you can understand why I will never become a bard. I have no wicked wit with words.)

I was born Santos Ta'rani (honoring our supposedly demon-touched line). My family was aristocratic but of former nobility. Our house was in favor in my homelands, a place of bountiful harvests and gently rolling hills.

My childhood was uneventful. I was instructed in diplomacy, linguistics and all kinds of noble callings. The first two I managed quite well... the histories, bloodlines, legalities and such were all too boring for me to ever manage. I was taught amongst much more powerful nobility than myself- I know not why. Doubtless Mother and Father thought I would become close friends with them. At first, I thought that could be possible.

But, try as I might, they never could look past my low blood. My wits never made up for my lack of coin. I was bullied and could not respond back in kind, for the laws of the land prevented it. That is, until I met T'zar.

T'zar was a courtier and advisor to the royal court. I watched him and learned from him. He was kind and patient. He befriended the friendless and gave hope to those without any but kept himself close to the royalty. He was courteous to all and respected by all- if in a way feared by many.

My friends were few, but I was always- well, usually- courteous to all. It was thought I would make a splendid noble after several of my former bullies found themselves in difficult positions I got them out of...

Until my uncle Rodrick stole the King's gold and ran away. Which, coincidentally is when my family was hunted down and executed. I don't care to explain how I escaped, but it suffices to say that I used my remaining contacts and gold to purchase a ticket across the sea to a new place.

I believe it is called Eberron. I arrived only a few days ago and all I know is that the ale is fine and the beds are infested with fleas. But, the ale is fine, so I cannot complain.

Santos-