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So, you want to know about me, eh? Well, I don't know if there's much to tell, but I suppose I'll just start rambling, and we'll see where it goes from there. I was born in Britain. Well, I assume I was, anyway, since most of my early memories are of running around that city. My father? Don't remember much about him. Oh, sure, I can remember sitting down with him for dinner, when I was about this high, in a little one room shack we had on the outskirts of town, and running through the forest while he would be teaching my big brother Cy how to pick which trees had the most wood to chop, and all the other things a carpenter shows his apprentice, but did I ever sit down and talk with him? Nay, when he was around, I was too busy doing all those things little lads do, to keep themselves occupied, while their parents work. By the time I "noticed" him, realized he was not only my father, but also another human being, he had already moved on, trying to find another forest, one less crowded than the one outside Britain, leaving me in the care of my brother. Do I feel scorned, or left out, or angry? Nay - what's to be angry about? He did his job, rearing me until I could fend for myself, and make my own living, then he moved on. Truly, no ill thoughts cross my mind when I think of him. He was gentle in his own way, and taught me what I needed to know about people, and life. At least, the more important things, anyway. The subtle nuances were left for me to figure out.

So there I was, barely an adult - living with my brother Cy. He was forever trying to teach me the ways of nature, and the forest, but I was (and still am, truth be told), a little hot-headed, and full of energy, and just couldn't sit idly by, carving shapes in wood, trying to create a "masterpiece" to sell to the local shops, or better yet, to some moneyed passerby. No, I had to venture on my own, find my own way. By this time, we had moved around the countryside, ending up near Yew. I bid my brother goodbye, and ventured out into the unknown.

I tried a few different things, mostly because I had to earn some gold somehow, to feed and clothe myself. Mostly, though, I hunted. Wolves, great harts, the occasional goat or pig, anything that would give me a challenge, help me learn to defend myself. The first vendor I ran across, I bought a cheap sword, knicked and dull, but serviceable, and I learned how to work with it. Hold it properly, "brandish" it so it would look impressive, even if the wielder (myself), wasn't. Working my way east, I finally found myself in the mining town of Minoc. The forests outside of this town seemed to always have wild animals for me to practice on, and even the rare "monster" might show it's face. Of course, in the early days, the most he would see of me was my backside, as I ran away, but even so, I would manage to inflict a cut or two to them. When I wasn't out hunting for food, I would usually end up in the local tavern, listening intently to some old miner telling stories of wealth, or attacks, or whatever would pop into their minds, while a young man looked on. While most of the miners there kept to themselves, some would share their food with me, and even pay me a few coin to help them dig up ore.

A few months of this, and I began to see that there was money to be had, digging out the earth, smelting it into iron bars, and selling it outside the local bank. Much more gold than slitting a pig's throat, and bringing the meat or hides to the butcher. Borrowing a pickaxe from one of the usual miners who hung out in the tavern, and promising to repay him with some of the ore I dug up, I gave it a try. The first month or two was probably the hardest, since I had to "stake my claim" in the mines, and earn the trust of the old-timers, who think that everyone not "their own" is out to steal from them. Gradually, though, I got better, and a little more trusted. Like the others, however, I kept mostly to myself, mining the raw ore, then dragging it first to the free forge outside the mountain. I'd then take the ingots into Minoc, and sell them outside the bank, like the others. I'll never forget the time I found my first dull copper vein. Aye, that was when I finally joined the ranks of the other miners, in telling stories around a jug of cider at the inn. They all looked knowingly at me, bounding through the doorway, smile across my face from ear to ear. And yes - the first dull copper ingot went to my acquaintance, the one who "loaned" me that first pickaxe. I'm pretty sure he still has it somewhere.

For quite a while I mined there, outside of Minoc, selling my ingots, putting the gold in the bank, saving everything I could, secretly holding out for enough to buy a ship, so I could mine the ore rich mountains of this land. It came to a halt one day, while I was out digging in my favorite spot. Just as I had emerged into the sun, another miner passed me by, then turned on me, and started to swing his sword! Shocked, I was, and so taken aback, wondering why he was swinging at me, without saying a thing. "What did I do?" I shouted at him, and all I received in reply was silence. Stumbling backwards, trying to keep my trusty packhorse from getting injured as well (to no avail, mind you), I continued to ask what I had done, and he continued to cut at me. Now, since I was mining, and not hunting, I had foolishly neither armed myself, nor armored myself. If I had an ounce of brain in my head, I would have turned tail and fled, but curiosity, and stubbornness got the better of me, and, bleeding all over, I continued to ask, until he struck the killing blow. I fell to my knees, groaned out a call for the guards, and perished. (and no, the guards never came. I was just on the border of their patrol area, and they couldn't get there in time. )

My spirit wandered slowly through Minoc, seemingly finding its own way to the healer, just south of the town limits. Once they had kindly brought me back to life, I vowed to never let that happen again. I turned my attention back to my swordsmanship, and began to teach myself in earnest. Not only had I lost my equipment and packhorse, (yes, he killed that, too), but I had lost my honor, and my self-respect. It was time to earn that back again. Every day, I'd venture out to the woods, and swing at whatever crossed my path. Slowly, I got better, even able to kill larger animals by myself, always working on my methods, refining my stance, etc. Never would I back down from something, until the last possible moment before death, and even then I'd miscalculate the strength of my foes, dying occasionally, and running back to the healer. But I'd continue on.

After one particularly nasty fight, (I think it was a bull or something equally tough.. well, tough to me at that time, anyway), I wandered into Minoc, battle weary, and hungry, heading towards the tavern, to rest for a bit, when I almost ran into someone who looked familiar. My brother Cy! A bit older, and a bit larger (stronger-looking, I mean), but still.. we embraced as brothers do, and he offered to buy me some food and a jug of ale, to catch up old things. Come to find out, he had just come into some property north of Minoc, and was willing to put me up while I trained. Of course, property was not all he had "come into", a significant amount of gold, a large house with a forge, and all the trappings to go with it! It seems, he was acquainted with a lady named Seth, and, when she left this world, she gave it all to him. I couldn't believe our luck! Not only did I now have a place to live, but I had been reunited with my dear brother.

Now, I'm going to pause here a bit in this rambling, to tell you a little about my brother. I'll begin modestly. He's The Best! Just as gentle as I am not, he knows how to make wood do his bidding. I don't mean in a warring kind of way, I mean he can shape it into whatever he wishes (well, almost, according to him, but *I* think he can do anything with it!). He has a way with Nature, knowing which tree will give up the most wood, and can make all sorts of things out of metal. He's smart as a whip, strong as an ox, and, well... he's my brother. What else can I say? Oh, yes - he also gave me my most prized possession - the sword "Dragonslayer". It was given to him by our father, he says, a gift from someone who's life our father helped save a long time ago. Cy won't tell me much more about it, other than it's very strong, and extremely sharp, and can kill a beast in just a few strokes. And if you don't believe me, I'll show you the scar it left on my finger, when I felt the edge of it, and it cut me to the bone.

I'm sorry, I tend to get a little - excited - when I talk about him, but I really do look up to him, and I try to do my best to make him proud. Now, as I was saying, he offered to let me live there, rent free, which I gladly took him up on. In no time, we had bought ourselves a ship, and I was off merrily mining the mountains, and practicing my swordsmanship when not digging up ore. While out on the boat, I happened across an area that was populated with all sorts of creatures, including some not-so-nice stuff. Ogres, ettins, and orcs. Docking my boat, I used that area to practice more, and even made a few friends along the way. Furie (yes, *that* Furie) and a few of her friends were kind enough to accompany me on some of these trips, and showed me much in the art of wielding a weapon. She also allowed me to dock my ship by her seaside home, and even have me a key to get in, and smelt my ore at her forge.

Time passed, and as I roam into the present, I shall try to end this story with my induction into this fine guild. After noticing Furie on several occasions wearing her guild colors, and waving to her as she went off to guild functions, I began to think about it. A guild seemed to be a fine place to finally have some camaraderie, learn some new skills, hone the ones I already had, and try to do some good for my fellow Britannian. After talking to her often about it, I finally decided to ask her how to "join", and she agreed to sponsor me into the guild.

Well, you asked. I hope I've satisfied your curiosity of who Gil Shatterstone really is.