I woke this morning to a breeze on my face and a sound I did not recognize. Someone very precious to me left you a gift, a wooden windmill. Carved by his own hand, for he is a skilled bowyer. I peered into your crib and you lay watching the wands turn and turn.
The man who left you this gift is known as The Grey Warden and is one of the most honorable men I know. Of course the Grey Warden is not the name given to him by his mother and father, but he trusted me enough to tell me his given name. I gave him my solemn promise never to utter his name to anyone, not even you my son, and I have broken him enough already to break this promise, his name I will take to the grave. I have much love for him and always will. Perhaps one day, he will honor you too and tell you his name himself. For now, I keep safe the note he left with your gift, as it may be all I have left of him.
Valindal - The Grey Warden
