It has been a while son of my son. I have written this letter to explain to you a few things about you, your father and your lineage.
As a child you were dead. You were stillborn and not meant for this world. Your father, my son, Maraxus and your mother Oonya were a mismatch. A half-orc and a gnome! What in the name of the Seven Hells! You and your brother Raistlin & sister Elhonna are part orc, part human and part gnome…mongrels and whichever twisted god breathed life into them chose correctly not to breath life into you. But fate intervened
You were buried, set to rest and that should have been the end. Instead you were stolen from the earth by Dalkrim, a lich-lord. Your father & mother and their companions did rescue your body from him and returned you to the earth. Then your father went one way, your mother the other with your kin. You were forgotten.
I came across your grave some years ago directed by a vision. It seems the gods make plans for us all. I spoke with your soul in the Abyss and I brought you back to life once more…half life at best. The taint and the length of your time in the ground meant your transition back to this world was not the best it could have been. As you know for the next few years I raised you but I am no nursemaid! I have many enemies and having a child, let alone my grandson with me would cause my death and probably yours again.
So that is why I left you in Aganthor at the orphanage, putting your fate back into the god’s hands. And from my sources you have taken up the mantle of paladin…which is a good thing. It is something I am proud that you have undertaken but you must keep your unlife hidden at all costs! Pelor is the bane of the undead and it is ironic that you’ve come to serve him and his ways, best to hide in plain sight…I’ve been doing it for years. But never reveal your true nature to others, the idea will repulse them and you will be killed or driven away. Only you, myself and that damned lich know what you are.
On matters of family, your father Maraxus is somewhere…I know not exactly where. He was last seen with his companions heading into the mountains and that was some fourteen years ago. Your father thought with his fists & his axe. Your uncle thought too much. You need to be better than them. Balance the head with the hand. Of all my son’s Maraxus is among my favourites.
Your mother is also somewhere, probably hunting rabbits or mining for gold like all those big-nosed tunnel rats. I’ve never met your mother but I assume she’s like most gnomes I have met in my long life; greedy & vicious!
Your sister is a waste of space! A common whore for one so uncommon! She resides in Y’allah plying her trade…such a disappointment and your brother Raistlin…well let’s just leave that mystery shall we. That and your uncle, well uncles. You’ve got much to digest and ponder grandson. I do respect you; you’ve grown into a man despite all. Hold your head high but don’t be cocky. You have the makings of greatness
And I hear you go huh? I found this on my computer, it was an old letter from a D&D campaign I ran. It linked one game to another game, tying together subplots. It may make no sense, it doesn't really matter. I just thought I'd share it with the world.