A night like any other. A face unseen by the eyes nearby. The strange man in the soft blue robes of a Monk sits alone at a large table in the back of the Old Skull Inn. The table is littered with books, scrolls and maps. All opened, piled on top of each other, the edges are weather-worn and tattered from time. An empty pack sits on the table, piles of leather wraps stagger on top of the bag, a few books still remain covered by their soft leather protection. Safe from harm, safe from all but their master's eyes. Directly in front of the man is another book, pages blank but for one small dot of ink. His pen taps on the page. Tap, tap, tap...it echoes the sound of the rain on the roof. The people pay him no mind. He's paid for food, the plate sits far from him, and his drink close at hand. Tap, tap, tap...haunting sound. The haunting sound of a haunted life.
The tapping stops, scribbling. Quick brush strokes on clean new paper. Calm, quiet, peace. Stroke, stroke, stroke, the page bursts to live before the man. All his knowledge, his power flows from him. He gives life to the pen, the pen gives life to the book, and the book serves him loyally. His only true friend. His only companion, before, now... ever.
My name is Maerlon Brightwing, and this is the story of my life.
I was born of Waterdeep. A small poor family. We had a house on the docks. My father earned a living by unloading boats to warehouses. A meager living, but a living nonetheless. I had no siblings, my mother died while giving birth to me. So I was left alone each day while my father worked. For many years, I was left in the care of other families during the day. Young mothers would take care of me in my infancy, they took me with them to their shopping. The other women fawned over me. I don't know why I recall such an early age, but I do not deny the knowledge. By my 6th winter, I was left to my own devices for amusement. I spent my days wandering the city - to my father's dismay. I remember one of those days clearly. It would be the start of a life-long journey for me. I wandered out of the docks. Stumbled past the market. I had never been this far away from home. The city was big, and I was lost in the middle a so many large houses. So many nice and clean and fancy places. I found myself crying in the middle of the road. Afraid I would never know how to get home again.
"What has broken your heart, child?" A soft voice spoke from behind me. I looked up at him, straining to see through the tears. He was tall, he seemed as if a mountain to me. His hair was long, unwashed, and dark as the night itself. His clothing was tanned, black and brown seemed to blend in all sorts of ways amongst his body. He wore a long cloak over his shoulder, darker even than his hair. A well-carved walking stick was in his right hand, again, black as the night. I did not know then why, but I felt as if I was in the presence of a god. I couldn't respond. I was completely paralyzed by his presence, I couldn't even bring myself to continue crying. The man extended his hand, I took it without thinking. "There is a temple just around the corner, I'll take you there and they can help you with whatever ails you, Maerlon." He knew my name. It did not suprise me, after all this man was a god to me.
We reached the temple doors, it was a very plain temple, simple in design. A colored etching of a scroll was on the door. He took me inside, and a priest greeted us. "Lord Khelben! What brings you to our door?" The priest seemed in as deep of shock as I.
"I found this child in the street, he seems lost. I figured you could help him." the god replied.
"Indeed we will, Ill take him to the the Master at once." Said the priest, seeming shaky.
Hands changing, I was now holding the priests hand. I felt as though I was being stripped from where I belonged. As if my whole world was the man who was now turning away and leaving out the door.
"You are very lucky, child" the Priest looked to me "to have Khelben Blackstaff personally aid you. You should take this as a good omen."
We walked through the room, it was not what I expected in a temple. There was only one altar, a small one, hardly an idol. And the entire place was littered with tomes of all ages. I followed the priest into a back room, where an old man sat at a desk with a quill in hand and parchment beneath it.
"This child was brought here sir, by Blackstaff. He requested we help the child get back home."
The old man looked up, pushing his reading glasses back onto his nose. "Hmm, very well." He looked to me, "Make yourself comfortable boy, Ill get you home when I am done with this." I sat in a chair nearby him. Watching his quill scatter along the pages.
"Is...is that...writing?" I squeaked. The old man smiled and nodded "You are young, are you in school?" I shook my head, we were too poor to afford schooling. "So you have not been taught to read and write then. Well then, how about this" he set his quill down "I will take you home now, and you will come back here every day. I will get one of my young priests to bring you back and forth. I will teach you to read and write." My eyes lit up, I couldn't believe it. Father would be so happy. "But this will not be a free service. You will work here at the temple. You will help me clean and move things. And when you are able, you will help me organize books once you can read. And once you can write you will help me take notes. Okay?"
"Yes sir! Thank you sir!" I was so happy, I could hardly contain myself. The old man stood, and walked me home.
Sure enough, the next day, and everyday after there was a priest waiting outside my home to take me to the temple. It took me only a few weeks to learn how to read a little. And when Id gotten that far, it only blossomed. There was so much to read here. When I could write I started learning to take notes, to gain something from what I read. The old man would dictate and I would record. When my lessons were done, just months later, he approached me at the end of the day.
"Maerlon, you finished what you started coming here for. Our lessons are done. You are no longer welcome here as my student." My heart sunk, I loved these old books. I loved working for the old man. "But...I would like to take you on as my apprentice. This is not simple work though, in your time here you have learned of our Patron, Oghma. You would continue tutelage under me, but not as work, or for reading or writing. This will be a path of knowledge. They path that my god has set before me, and I wish to share now with you. Do not make your decision yet. For this will mean you wont go home anymore. You would live here, with us. Go home tonight, and do not return for one week. 10 days from now you will return here, alone, if you wish to walk our path of knowledge."
No more words were spoken. I left, sad, excited, confused. Did I return you wonder? Well, let me just say that the next 12 years of my life were spent with my nose in books.
The man in the soft blue robes, look up from the table, flags the waitress for a second drink, and looks over his pile of books. He chuckles to himself softly, and sits back a moment to relax.
"Times may change, but much remains as it always has." The man in blue smiles, gazing out the window into the rain.