Orlenne stifles a yawn as she puts quill to parchment, the candlelight flickering in a slight draught.

Now it was that, yester-eve, I sat upon the sward overlooking the docks at Celondim and pondered the courses of my life that had led me to this point. (For this night I am to begin training in the skills needed to protect our lands and our homes, and that by the re-conviened Loth-i-Lonnath - a name spoken with near reverence amongst my family.)

A few little pieces of memories in a marmelade of feelings, that's all what's left from my little childhood, before the age of 4-5 years, and before you.
Then, quite instantaneously, things found a logical place in the world and in my head. It was not just a flash here at home, and there at the fisher's shop, it was now the full way between. History and geography have bloomed simultaneously in my past.
One thing i clearly remember, is when the old Martha gave us our first book. She was the one who was teaching to read to the children of Combe.