Where this Road will Lead
Found on the doorstep of a human noble family as an infant. It was the house
cook that hid and cared for young Ratzwick until he was old enough to work off his debt to the family. Finding quiet from a busy manor that was too overwhelming for a small gnome child was a full time for Ratz. the future sorcerer spent most of his days caring for the gardens and livestock. Preferring the company of the animals to that of the other children made Ratzwick the easiest target to the pranks of others. Sometimes it was just being poked with a stick more often that not it was dead village cats in his bed or headless mice in his shoes. This constant torment is the reason for his soft voice and heavy speech impediment, which is almost unrecognizable as words when he is angry, scared or tired. (Funny enough, get him drunk and he sings with the most beautiful voice) Not having any other gnomes around Clarice, his caretaker, knew nothing of the upcoming changes gnomes go through when they come of age. As he got older his skill in the kitchen and garden became something of pride to the family of the house, never giving the credit to Ratzwick, but allowing him to focus on the more posh jobs that the other servants coveted. Soon it was clear that Ratz wasn’t wanted and his isolation from others was his way of life. Often spending his time by the water drawing or singing lightly the songs Clarice would hum under her breathe all day. It was a few weeks before his “birthday”, a day like all the others that Ratzwick came in from the garden with few pulled root vegetables and found
the only person he had ever cared for dead on the kitchen floor. Grief and
sorrow over took him and soon without thinking a deep dark feeling started to grow from inside, his hairs started to stand on end and it seemed that the room grew frighteningly still and dark. It has been rumored that pixies were the cause of the storm inside the house that day, but none were to be found. What ever the cause, it was the last day anyone from his home village ever saw Ratzwick.
Moving from town to town trying to find a place where he fit it- it wasn’t until
he met the dwarves of Mons Porthos that he was welcomed into a “society”.
Ratzwick was good with an anvil and could make weapons faster than their two finest blacksmiths. Keeping to himself and quiet as a mouse Ratzwich heard many a tale of conqure and plans of war, always listening and never butting in with an opinion- this made him a great confidant to the drinking dwarves of town. Working all day and night gave Ratz comfort and meaning, days turned into months which turned into years, and it probably would have continued that way if the Great Storm hadn’t happened. It raged for days causing floods in the fields, landslides on the coasts and the death of many a man and animal alike. Ratzwick and the rest of the dwarves took to higher ground hoping to wait out the storm, but soon it became apparent that the food supply wouldn’t outlast mother nature.
Ratz was volunteered to head a party to gather what ever was left, a fools
mission for sure, but the timid gnome said nothing as he headed into town.
Everything was destroyed and as he searched further into the unknown parts of the village night fall was fast at hand, hoping to make it back up the mountain before the moon was at it’s highest, an empty handed Ratz headed back, but it seemed the elements had other plans. The thunderstorm pushed him further and further off course, it wasn’t until he was at the coast line that Ratzwick looked for shelter. Finding a small cave, he climbed in as deep as he could and hoped morning would come soon. Right before dawn the feeling of cold water woke the gnome and soon it was clear that the coast was flooding and drowning in the cave would likely happen. Panic filled Ratzwick as he struggled to get out of his watery grave. A sand dune blocked his way, at the moment which he thought was his last a strange calmness filled him and the lullaby Clarice sang to him as an infant came to mind. Closing his eyes Ratz welcomed death- but death would not answer, instead the area around became suddenly hot and dry with a flurry of movement in a circular direction- opening his eyes Ratzwick found himself in the eyewell of a tropical cyclone. A Cyclone that seem to glow a bright green, the same color green of the pedant Ratzwick always wore, the only thing he took off of Clarice’s body before he left his childhood home, speaking the words of his nurserylullaby aloud the cyclone lifted off the ground and carried the gnome into the air. Once at safety the cyclone’s winds dispersed at the sky grew calm once more. Ratz never said goodbye to the dwarves, who probably thought he perished in the roughest night of the Great Storm, and leftto find the meaning to all that happened.
Traveling the land, asking few questions and giving fewer answers Ratzwick
gained control of his powers, the strongest being that of the water elements. It wasn’t until he found Clarice’s granddaughter that it all became clear. Stories of her arcane lineage and the meaning of the lullabies (they were actually spells put to rhymes to help children remember them better). Always wanting to know more, Ratzwick Tontuu has never settled down, but always looking to know where this fork in the road will lead.
Chronicles of the World of DaoTyr 
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