Beginnings

"Monster" "Ugly" "Half breed" "Shame"

These were the words that would be uttered by the villagers when they heard the news that their leader, Malichi, had just became a grandfather. He mustn't let them find out that his daughter had given birth to a half-orc. It would shatter his image and ability to lead his people. He would surely be over thrown as Mayor of his small little hamlet of Wheatward. He didnt care that his daughter had died during the birth, once he had seen the child was a half-orc she had been dead to him anyways. The only thing that mattered now was maintaining his image and doing damage control. He didnt have to worry about the doctor, he valued his position in town too much, the only loose end he had left was the child, Mogrul.

His daughter was able to breath out his name with her final breathes. Malichi didnt know where she had gotten the name, he didnt care. It was only now that he realized all of her trips out into the plains hadn't been for herbs like she had said, she must've been meeting with the orcs. No, no, his daughter would never willingly go to bed with an orc. They had forced themselves on her. Yes, that's what he'd tell himself to ease his pride. Malichi went to the room where the child was crying and gathered him up, wrapping him in one of the manor's towels. He needed to reach the forest before first light and people noticed he was missing. There he could leave the child and let nature take its course.

The tall, burly mayor saddled his horse and set out at a break neck pace towards the forest on the edge of his domain. It was a place full of wolves, owlbears, and all sorts of other nasty beasts. The beasts never wandered too far from the forest so his village of farmers and ranchers never had much problem with them, but a newborn wouldn't stand a chance. He rode like this for three or four hours and the edge of the forest was just coming into view when the horizon took a rosy orange glow signaling the dawn. 'Damn, I need to head back to town before they notice I'm missing and ask questions. This should be close enough to take care of my problem' Malichi thought to himself. He slowed his horse, dismounted, and laid the babe in the tall grass. Staring one last time at his grandchild, steeling his heart, and jumping back on his horse to speed back to Wheatward.

As the first rays of dawn broke the horizon the babe smiled at the warmth of the sun on his face and closed his gray eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Leif Dawnborn had been a cleric all of his life. Born at dawn's first light on the holy day of The Dawnfather, Pelor, his parents had taken it as a divine sign he was chosen to serve the god. Thus, he was raised in the temple and grew up in this fashion. His entire life was about praise and worship of The Dawnfather, helping those that couldn't help themselves, and providing blessings upon the harvest of Wheatward. The temple of Pelor was one of the reasons people attributed Wheatward with an outstanding crop of exceptional quality. Pelor was the god of life, light, and harvest; and he was especially loved by the farmers.

Now nearing the start of his 43rd year, Leif had risen up the hierarchy of the temple and was now considered one of the more well respected members of the clergy. His input was sought in many of the day to day matters, but his expertiese was in nurturing the things around him. It was for this reason he was deemed the go to cleric if you wanted to ensure a successful harvest. He was returning from one of these missions on the edges of the borders of the Wheatward domain when he came across something quite out of the ordinary, a baby in the grass. The poor thing was swaddled in a towel and looking around with large round eyes, scanning its surroundings with a sharpness of focus. Without hesitation Leif picked up the child, poured the faintest amount of water from his canteen over his fingers and gently rubbed them on the baby's sun cracked lips.

"Now, now little one. I've got you. The Dawnfather has smiled on you this day my child, it is a tough cruel world and is no place for a babe to be alone." he said in a voice soft as strands of gossamer in the morning dew. The child coo'ed softly at the sound of someone new and closed its eyes, returning back to sleep as his new guardian gently carried him towards town.