Many years ago, and I'm not telling how many, my foster mother, Kallistria retired to the country to her father's farm. She was a human warrior mage with a thirst for adventure, bloodletting and treasure. And she was also expecting. She gave birth one bright, spring morning to a wee girl babe. The proud war mage became an adoring mother that day, scarcely taking her eyes off the tiny babe. She named her Lila. At night fall, she laid the baby to rest in her crib and soon fell asleep herself.

The child was strangely quiet through the night. Kallistria and her father never awoke until the next morning. They found in the crib a scrawny, elf changeling. In fury, Kallistria drew her dagger to slay the child. Her father stayed her hand and forced her to spare the child. Fortunately, for the elf changeling was me. Kallistria left that day to search for her human daughter, and over the next few years we saw her on rare occasions, growing ever sadder as she had no luck with her quest.

Her father, I called him Grandda, was kind to me and came to love me as I grew. There were just the two of us and we worked hard to keep the farm going. Those early years were happy. Summers of planting and harvesting and winters spent studying. Grandda was a scholar of sorts, I think he wanted to be a moon magi, but the farm claimed him at an early age. Kallistria visited us on rare occasions and she finally became kind to me, but I knew as she looked at me, that she saw and mourned her lost daughter.

When I was fourteen years of age by human counting, Grandda became ill and died. My grief was devastating. I had no one. Kallistria came to me, then. She did not speak, but gave me a bag of armor and a bag of weapons and several silver coins. She led me into the Crossing and finally spoke the last words I'd hear her say.. "you are luckier than most, you have armor, you have a weapon, and you have coin.., and may the goddesses guide your path."

With the gifts from my foster mother, I set out to explore the Crossing. In my wanderings, I stumbled upon goblins that first day. Having no skill with my broadsword, they soon dispatched me and greedily fought over my belongings, leaving me with nothing but rags to clothe myself. Bruised and aching, I stumbled back into Crossing. Those were dark times, I'll not go into detail on them, except to say I ended up in Riverhaven, hiding under the docks from the wrath of a merchant who took exception at me trying to steal a pastry from him. Cold, dirty and starving, I considered ending it all then, just wading out into the lake and letting the waters close over my head while I found oblivion. Sunk in misery, I felt something warm rubbing my legs. It was a huge and smelly cat. I petted him and he dropped a fish head for me. With his gifts of fish and his warmth I survived the night. In the morning, he led me to the clerics guild and with gentle nudges, persuaded me to join the cleric's guild. And then the real adventure began.