@1=~This component has already been installed with another mod.~
@2=~Core Bugfixes~
@3=~Rebalanced Familiars~
@4=~Summoning Cap Removal~
@5=~Organised Journal Entries~
@6=~Interface Fixes~
@7=~BG2 Ammo Stacks~
@8=~TotSC is required for this component!~
@9=~Totemic Summons Rebalancing~
@10=~Restored BG1 Loadscreens~

@1001=~Gained Special Ability: Cure Light Wounds~
@1002=~Gained Special Ability: Larloch's Minor Drain~
@1003=~Gained Special Ability: Slow Poison~
@1004=~Gained Special Ability: Horror~
@1005=~Gained Special Ability: Draw Upon Holy Might~
@1006=~Gained Special Ability: Vampiric Touch~

@1101=~Welcome to the Tales of the Sword Coast! This is a series of adventures created in the spirit of the Advanced Dungeons and Dragons module system, and it has considerably expanded the Baldur's Gate world. For your convenience, your party is being transported to the newly created community of Ulgoth's Beard. You will find this quaint village to be a gateway to new adventures and dangers, though you will also be able to continue exploring the Sword Coast you already know.
In the context of the overall Baldur's Gate campaign, the events you are about to embark upon take place before the final confrontation with Sarevok, and use the saved game that was created just before you entered his hidden lair. Once you have completed the mission pack you may wish to return to the depths beneath the great city of Baldur's Gate to finish off your murderous half-brother once more, stronger and better equipped than you could have been before. Be careful however, for Sarevok may not be quite as you remember.~
@1102=~Adventures you have seen and dangers you have faced, and through them all you have emerged alive. Creatures both fell and familiar have opposed you, and yet you have persevered. With your acts come a closure, and these Tales of the Sword Coast are behind you. However, the world continues, and it awaits your further adventures.~

@1201=~White crystalline motes spray forth from the wand in a dense cluster towards the victim striking square in the chest with numbing force.  The temperature of the blast is deadly, and damage is 8d6 (treating all 1s rolled as 2s), with a save vs. wands for half.

STATISTICS:

Effect:  Ice Blast
Damage:  8D6 (save vs. wands for half)
Range:  100
Area:  1 creature
Usable by:
 Mage
 Bard~

@1301=~Weapon broken~

@1401=~[GORION 11] Let's hurry child!  The night can only get worse so we must find shelter soon.  Don't worry, I will explain everything as soon as there is time.~ [_GORIN11]
@1402=~Belch... Drink up.~
@1403=~... No...  my only son...  It is a black day.  He died for this farm, but I am too old to work it and too poor to hire someone else.  I've lost him AND the land.  At least now I know... Thank you for your help but... I wish to be alone now.~
@1404=~Well, look what I found; this is the body of Silvershield's son.  Guess I'm in a lot of trouble now.  With him dead, I'll be a wanted dwarf. From what I've gathered so far, all of you are after them damnable bandits.  Well, since my reputation is now mud how 'bout I help you gain revenge on those scum bags.~
@1405=~We don't want you around any more, so hit the road.~
@1406=~Entar Silvershield's son was killed.~
@1407=~Sure, we could use your skills.~
@1408=~Stupid chumps, your loss.~
@1409=~Heh, my reputation's probably calmed down by now, anyway. See ya around, ya lumps.~
@1410=~You've got hardy hides, folk. If you ever need a little more dwarven muscle around, you've got it.~
@1411=~I don't want to rush you mutton-heads, but I have a caravan to find!  Get a move on!~
@1412=~I'm getting nowhere with you useless chumps!  I'll find my lost caravan on my own, and yous can all just get bent!~
@1413=~I'm tired of looking fer the damn caravan.  We'll never find it among all the other dead caravans we've been coming across.  Let's just forget about it and keep to whatever you wanna do.~
@1414=~Someone disturbs me?!?  I have no time to talk with you <CHARNAME>.  Don't take it personally; I'm just a very busy man.~

@1501=~Find Familiar 
(Conjuration/Summoning)
Level: 1
Range: n/a
Duration: Special
Casting Time: 1 round
Area of Effect: 1 familiar
Saving Throw: Special

This spell enables the caster to attempt to summon a familiar to act as his aide and companion.  Familiars are typically small creatures.  A creature acting as a familiar can benefit a wizard, conveying its sensory powers to its master, conversing with him, and serving as a guard/scout/spy as well.  A wizard can have only one familiar at a time, and he has no control over what sort of creature answers the summoning, if any come at all.  
(Note:This spell may only be cast by the protagonist.)
The creature is always more intelligent than others of its type (typically by 2 or 3 Intelligence points), and its bond with the wizard confers upon it an exceptionally long life. 
The wizard has an empathic link with the familiar and can issue it mental commands. 
The caster receives half the familiars total hit points as bonus hit points.  However the caster must take care to treat his familiar well, for if the familiar should die, the caster loses the bonus hit-points and half the familiar's hit-points again as damage.  Also when a familiar dies, the caster loses 1 point of constitution PERMANENTLY.

Example: A mage has 12 hit points and casts find familiar. The imp summoned has 12 hit points, so the caster gets a bonus of 6 hit points.  The caster now has 18 hit points.  If the familiar dies the caster loses those 6 hit points (putting him back at 12), 1 point of constitution permanently (which may cause additional hit point loss), and takes 6 damage.

Here is a list of the familiars that the player receives according to alignment:

LAWFUL GOOD, NEUTRAL GOOD:  Pseudo Dragon
Armor Class: -2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities: 2 attacks per round at THACO: 13 for 1-3 damage.  Save or be rendered unconscious for 2 turns.

LAWFUL NEUTRAL:  Ferret
Armor Class: 0
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities:  Has 75% pick pockets ability, 40% Hide in Shadows/Move Silently, and 20% Detect Traps.

LAWFUL EVIL:  Imp
Armor Class: 2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 25%
Special abilities:  Can cast the Polymorph self spell.

NEUTRAL:  Rabbit
Armor Class: -4
Hit Points:  12
Magic Resistance: 75%
Special abilities:  Has a 50% Detect Traps, and 30% Hide in Shadows/Move Silently.

NEUTRAL EVIL:  Dust Mephit
Armor Class: 6
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 10%
Special abilities:  Can cast glitter dust 2 times per day.

CHAOTIC GOOD:  Fairy Dragon
Armor Class: 4
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 32%
Special abilities:  Can cast mirror image and invisibility 10' radius.

CHAOTIC NEUTRAL:  Cat
Armor Class: 0
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities:  Has a 99% in Move Silently and Hide in Shadows.

CHAOTIC EVIL:  Quasit
Armor Class: 2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 25%
Special abilities:  Can cast Horror and Blur.

Note: Each familiar has the Pick Pockets ability with varying degrees of proficiency.~

@1502=~This is your cat familiar, currently curled up and safe within your backpack.  The cat familiar is a master scout, able to move in the shadows with the ability of a master thief.  It is also difficult to hit in combat, and the magic of the spell has made this cat resistant to both physical and magical attacks.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 0
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities:  Has 99% in move silently and hide in shadows.~

@1503=~This is your familiar, a dust mephit currently safe within your backpack.  The dust mephit is not strong in combat, but it is slightly resistant to magical attack and has the ability to cast the spell 'glitterdust' twice per day to assist its master.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 6
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 10%
Special abilities:  Can cast 'Glassdust' 2 times/day.  Glitter dust 1 time/day.~

@1504=~This is your familiar, a fairy dragon, currently curled up and safe within your backpack.  The mischievous fairy dragon is fairly resistant to magic... and has the ability to both protect and obscure itself with illusionary magic of its own.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 4
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 32%
Special abilities:  Can cast Mirror Image and Invisibility 10' radius each 1/day.~

@1505=~This is your familiar, a ferret, currently curled up and safe in your backpack.  The ferret is an incredibly quick and agile animal, hard to hit and magical made resistant to both damage and spells.  The ferret's uncanny ability to get into almost anything unseen makes it a handy pickpocket.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 0
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities:  Has 75% pick pockets ability.  Has a 40% stealth ability.  He has detect traps 20%.~

@1506=~This is your familiar, an imp, currently grumpy yet safe within your backpack.  The imp is an unusual creature that is fairly quick and quite resistant to magical spells... and has the ability to cast its own spells on behalf of its master.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 25%
Special abilities:  Can cast the Polymorph spell.~

@1507=~This is your familiar, a pseudo-dragon, currently curled up and safe within your backpack.  The lizard-like creature is quite intelligent and fairly well-armored and quick... it does not do much damage in combat, but its magical claws are able to render some enemies unconscious.  It is also quite resistant to magical spells.  It can also cast blur.

Abilities:
Armor Class: -2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 50%
Special abilities: 2 attacks per round at THACO: 13 for 1-3 damage.  Save or be rendered unconscious for 120 seconds.  It can also cast blur.~

@1508=~This is your familiar, a quasit, currently grumpy yet safe within your backpack.  The quasit is a small, infernal creature that is fairly quick and quite resistant to magical spells... and has the ability to cast its own spells on behalf of its master.

Abilities:
Armor Class: 2
Hit Points: 12
Magic Resistance: 25%
Special abilities:  Can cast Horror~

@1509=~This is your familiar, a rabbit, currently curled up and safe within your backpack.  The rabbit might not be one's first choice for a familiar, but this creature is incredibly quick and difficult to hit in combat... and has been augumented by magic to become quite resistant to physical harm as well as spells.  The rabbit also has a keen nose for sniffing out traps on behalf of its master.

Abilities:
Armor Class: -4
Hit Points:  12
Resistance to fire, cold, electricity: 75%
Special abilities:  Has a 50% Detect Traps ability.  30% stealth ability.~

@1801=~You can play Baldur's Gate in 640 by 480 resolution, as well as 800 by 600 resolution.~
@1802=~Potions of Mirrored Eyes will protect your characters from gaze-based attacks.~
@1803=~Undead creatures are immune to a basilisk's gaze.~
@1804=~Magical weapons do not break.~
@1805=~The hides of some creatures are valuable and can be sold to the right buyer.~
@1806=~The shells of some creatures are valuable and can be forged into items with the right smith.~
@1807=~Remember that exploration may yield useful items or other advantages.~
@1808=~With a variety of ammo available, bows and other ranged weapons can be very versatile.~
@1809=~Potions can help protect characters against magic and magical effects.~
@1810=~The adventure does not need to end with Baldur's Gate. You can import your characters into Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn and continue the adventure.~
@1811=~The city of Baldur's Gate is named after the hero Balduran.~
@1812=~Stone to Flesh scrolls can restore petrified characters.~
@1813=~Dispel magic will remove most harmful--and beneficial--magical effects from your characters.~
@1814=~The mage spell Knock can be used to open locked chests.~
@1815=~Priest spells such as Bless or Chant can make a great difference in tough battles for low-level parties.~
@1816=~Elixirs of Health combine the effects of Antodote and Healing Potions.~
@1817=~Protection scrolls can be very useful in combat.~
@1818=~Cursed items can be removed at temples or with a Remove Curse spell.~
@1819=~Read the descriptions of spells thoroughly, as they provide important information regarding a spell's effects.~
@1820=~Summoned monsters are bound to obey the commands of their summoner.~

@1900=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1901=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1902=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1903=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1904=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1905=~Inspired by your foster father's loving tales, you have always dreamt of living the life of an adventurer, travelling the land by your wits and talents alone.  The grounds of the keep were often the stage for many an imagined battle, much to the consternation of the monks that share your home.  Companions your age being somewhat of a rarity, you endured by playing every role yourself, a habit that has stayed with you as you enter into adulthood.  As Gorion used to advise you, "A little bit of everything makes a better soup."

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1906=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1907=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1908=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1909=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1910=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1911=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1912=~From a young age, you have excelled in athletic contests.  By the time you reached the age of fourteen, your thoughts, inspired by your foster father's tales of great heroes, had turned away from simple contests and to the thrill of battle against true foes.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1913=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1914=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1915=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1916=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1917=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1918=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1919=~As a child, you discovered your inherent magical abilities, which your foster father encouraged you to develop.  You have pored over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman sorcerer.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1920=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1921=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1922=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1923=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1924=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1925=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1926=~You were drawn at an early age to the self-discipline of the monks of Candlekeep.  However, inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure, you are not content with a cloistered life.  A retired warrior monk who dwells at Candlekeep has trained you in the abilities of his order.  You believe he has taught you everything you can learn without true battle experience, and you dream of setting out on the road, testing your skills against real foes.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1927=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1928=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1929=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1930=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1931=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1932=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1933=~Drawn to the clamor of the forge at an early age, you have become quite skilled working for the monks of the keep, and have kept them supplied with whatever tools are occasionally required. Inspired by your foster father's tales of ironclad heroes, however, you know you would much rather swing a blade than a smithy's hammer.  One of the Watchers has been kind enough to take you under her wing, and has trained you in the basics of the deadly arts.  You yearn to leave the safe walls of your library home and venture forth along the Trade Way, a trusty weapon at your side.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1934=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1935=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1936=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1937=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1938=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1939=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1940=~Inspired by your foster father's knowledge of the magical arts, you have made especially productive use of your library home.  You have poured over the vast, if often inaccessible, treasury of magical lore, and learnt as much as you can.  Gorion has been kind enough to instruct you in the basics, but he seems a touch overly concerned about your safety.  You know, however, that experience could teach you so much more, and you yearn to travel as a journeyman wizard.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1941=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1942=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1943=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1944=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1945=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1946=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1947=~Inspired by your foster father's colorful tales of rogues and scoundrels, you have spent your childhood yearning for intrigue.  On the stage of your imagination, the ambling, preoccupied monks of the keep have often played the secret lords of Waterdeep, their purses ripe targets for your nimble fingers.  On more than one occasion Gorion has asked you to very tactfully return a pen or an inkwell to the pocket from which it came.  The more valuable of the keep's treasures remain impenetrable to your wiles, but you have little desire to steal from your benefactors anyway; you long for more appropriate and accessible pickings.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1948=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1949=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1950=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1951=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1952=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1953=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1954=~Long have you marveled at the tales read to you by your foster father, many gathered from the various holy books on the shelves of Candlekeep.  The strength and power of faith inspired you, but the petty squabbles of the gods only filled you with disdain.  From this you came to understand the monks with whom you share your home, and the nature of their nondenominational beliefs.  Joining in their studies you have come to think of yourself as one of the Avowed.  Some of the brethren, perhaps responding to Gorion's subtle urging, have graciously fielded your many questions and taught you much about the meaning and role of the priesthood.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1955=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1956=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1957=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1958=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1959=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1960=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1961=~Set as they were against the sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks outside the keep, you have always been drawn to your foster father's tales of the unspoiled wilderness.  You have occasionally found exotic flowers pressed and long forgotten between the pages of tomes, and often spent long hours studying Nature's varied forms in some of the library's many journals.  It is your foremost wish that someday you will leave the sterile walls of Candlekeep, and worship the Earthmother in her own presence.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1962=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1963=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1964=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1965=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1966=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1967=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1968=~You have long been enraptured by your foster father's countless tales, though not so much for the content as for the art of the telling.  Blessed by a world of books, you have surrounded yourself with the ancient legends and endless lore, and developed quite a skill for showmanship.  One of the cooks has become quite fond of you and, between recitations of often bawdy poems and songs, has provided you with somewhat haphazard voice instruction.  Gorion, in his kindness and wisdom, has been urging you to find another teacher before you ruin your voice for good. 

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1969=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1970=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1971=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1972=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1973=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1974=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1975=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of chivalry and honor, from a young age you committed yourself to the pursuit of good and the punishment of evil.  Candlekeep is a world of many sacred and unspoken laws, and you have learned to uphold them all unquestionably. Your honesty and integrity have brought you to the attention of some of the keep's Great Readers, but as of yet none of them have had cause to call upon your services.  While the citadel sees the passage of the occasional ne'er-do-well, its regimented atmosphere rarely needs to be purged of evil. The peace of your surroundings should be comforting, but instead you find it stifling.  You know your true place is traveling the Realms, fighting evil wherever the need arises.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1976=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a human from Silverymoon and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1977=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a dwarf from Mithral Hall and a friend of his for many seasons. As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1978=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was an elf from the High Forest and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1979=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-elf from the courts of Ashabenford and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1980=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a halfling from Luiren and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1981=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a gnome from the Thunder Peaks region and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
@1982=~Inspired by your foster father's tales of adventure amidst the barrens, hills, and forests of Faerun, you have learned to appreciate the power and challenges of the wilderness.  While you cannot remember ever venturing further than the outer walls of Candlekeep, you are a welcome and frequent visitor to its stables and pens.  Much of your time is also spent atop the great towers of the citadel, where birds often seek shelter from both predators and the chill of the ocean winds.  Still, you yearn to reach beyond, deep into the meadows and forests that you behold from your lofty perch.

You know little of how you came to be a ward of Gorion's, but over the years you have gleaned something of your mother's tale from his vague allusions and from the words he sometimes uttered in tear-filled sleep.  She was a half-orc from Amn and a friend of his for many seasons.  As you have no memory of her, nor any keepsakes to remind you of her existence, you have come to believe that she died while giving birth to you.  Perhaps it was the pain of such a parting that led Gorion to cloister himself within the narrow halls of Candlekeep and raise you as his own.  Of your father, you have learned nothing.~
