I have seen the ways of my father, and I have seen the ways of my mother; yet neither father nor mother ever laid claim to me, and neither people look upon me with acceptance. I am an Outcast, thrown to the mercy of the streets, with only my wits and nimbleness to protect me. But I am not worthless; they can never convince me I am. From two great peoples I descend, and in that I take pride. While in the shadows I often take solace from the mocking eyes, I am not ashamed of who I am. They say that I have no heratige, that I am nothing, with no past and no future. If I have neither heratage nor past, then it is because I need none; I will make a future for myself in these troubled times.

I hear the echoes of the past, voices of the lost souls, and they call me mad. I do not believe this; it is a gift, not a curse. Is a wizard mad for seeing what others can not? Nay, it is talent, not madness; I am not mad I tell you. You can not tell me truly that you have never caught the faint hint of voices in the wind when a wild storm rages; you hear the voices, but will neither admit it nor listen to them. The voices, they call to me, and one day I shall unlock their mysteries, the secrets whispered in the wild winds of this world. I will hold true to my purpose; I will not sucum to pregidice and allow myself to fail. I will suceed.

Alas, I do understand why both men and elves fear and dispise those like me: fear and distrust of the unknown, the different, the strange. Like the darkest night or cavern, the unknown inspires fear; like the power of the magi to those lacking that power, differences inspire distrust. I understand this and hold no grudge against anyone, for I know the pain of such bias. I only wish they would listen to me, hear what I say, not turn their back on me. These are dark times; we must all fight the fear and listen to the past.

Who am I, you ask? I am Ansua Galdr Song, second in command of the WayWard Dragons, bard of the fifth rank, and a merchant manager in the great trade city of Tradewind. My first taste of the life of a merchant was when I was young and taken in by a merchant for cheap labor. While I labored in the background, mostly fogotten except for new orders, I learned a great deal that was not intended. I began to well appreciate the worth of various items and how to make deals. Oh, how my merchant master would hate to know I learned that trick. Now I seek to be master to many merchants such as the one who once mastered me. You can often find me lounging in town, directing my weavers and monituring the construction of furniture. I genreally leave Tradewind only when friends invite me to the hunt, a young "Dragon" requires a lesson in the Hunt, or the winds call me forth into the wilderness.

The wild winds whisper once more, and I must follow...