My Story

Since my exile, I have endeavored to forget that there ever was a time before Puddleby. But since you ask, I can no longer live in denial of what was. Come, sit, and I will tell you what I remember...

What lays before you is the only map of the world that I have ever seen. There may be other copies out there, but Puddleby's library does not yet contain it.

No matter... in an abstract sort of way, it is very accurate, and more than adequate for our purposes.

I was born, Ketoran (my Given Name), in the Thoom homeland in a small town not that far from the 11 Kingdoms of Humanity in the year 480. My brother, Kalteron was born a few years later. I had a happy childhood with my parents. I still bear many happy memories from my time growing up in my parents' town. Soon, however, it became clear that I was blessed with the Gift of Healing. Many Thooms are blessed with the Gift of Healing, but not all. Of those who are, often the Gift isn't much more than the ability to Heal small cuts and bruises and never grows beyond that. My brother did not show evidence of the Gift, though he is exceedingly bright.

Some of us have a greater "Gift." Some small percentage of the Thoom population have the ability to Train. That is, we can improve our healing abilities through rigorous mental, spiritual and physical training. Many who now live in Puddleby take for granted that most Thooms are excellent Healers. Few realize the truth. This probably is due at least in part to the large numbers of Trainable Thoom Healers in Puddleby. I think that the Empire fears strong healers. After all, we can heal those who have been killed. It must be very inconvenient for them to kill someone who threatens the Empire's power only to have a Thoom Healer come along and bring the person back to life. Whatever the reason, the Empire seems to exile every Trainable Thoom they come across.

But I digress.

My parents realized that I had it in me to become a very strong Healer with the proper training. My parents were not rich people (most Thooms aren't, Healing isn't a lucrative profession, overall). So they scraped together enough money to send me to the best Healer in the area. His name was Kal-Thoran (which means He Who Heals All, in ancient Thoomish). He lived among the Humans some distance from our town. I was sent with the next caravan to my new Master. I would never see my parents again, and I only recently met up again with my brother in Puddleby, of all places! He has told me that he is working to become a mystic. I am so proud of him.

Anyway, where was I... Oh, yes! My training... I arrived in the year 500 and discovered that Kal-Thoran was not only an extremely powerful Healer, but also had a Spirit and disposition to match. He never asked for anything from anyone he healed, and he was exceedingly kind. He lived on money which others gave him as gifts. However, should have have more money than he required to live, he would often donate it to someone less fortunate. I have attempted in my own poor way, to emulate his example.

Kal-Thoran was a Master Healer (beyond even the powerful Fifth Circle of Puddleby). He taught me much. Not only about Healing, but about acceptance of others. He taught me that each of the races in all of the Lands of the World have unique strengths and weaknesses and that it is only TOGETHER that we can accomplish anything. Puddleby is a good example of this.

I trained with him until Year 523 at which time the Empire besieged the town where I was training. My Master resisted the rule of the Empire, and they had him taken away and killed. The Empire captured myself as well. When I resisted, one of their foul number forced a potion on me that wiped my mind clean of all of my Training, and left me as weak as a new-born babe.

It was in this sorry condition that I was Exiled to Puddleby. When I arrived, I found a thriving Healing community already established. I immediately sought entrance into the First Circle of Healers. Apparently, others had also suffered my same fate. However, there was hope... my innate Trainability and my memories were still in-tact. I vowed to once again regain my Healing skills. I thought by doing so, I might somehow vindicate my Master's death.

So, to honor him, I named myself after his memory, Kalthax (meaning, literally, in ancient Thoomish: "In the Healers Memory").

I worked hard for 10 months or so, and regained some of my former Training. Then the Ripture Wars came. I awoke one day to find myself not in the Library where I had been studying, but in a strange realm altogether different than Puddleby. I was immediately plunged into the battle and helped to heal many who were fighting the forces of Perdition. I have never been so sorely tested in my life. I feared that I might not make it.

Eventually I was called to make the ultimate sacrifice, and, for the second time in my life, undergo a life-changing metamorphosis. I was to be "born anew" to help to seal the Riptures. Clad all in blue, and armed for a time with Holy Fire I laid waste to many evil minions of the Underworld. However, after this transformation, I was left weak and helpless once again.

As most of you are probably aware, the Exiles won the War and the Riptures were all closed. Puddleby was whole again. But at what cost?

Every person that made it through the Ripture Wars (and far too many did not) was left in the same condition as I was. But the monsters in the vicinity of Puddleby seemed not to be affected at all. Many "Bluebies" died in those early days after the War. It is only recently that things have begun to return to some sense of normalcy. Through this all, the Empire seems to be sending more and more people into Exile in Puddleby, apparently unaware of the Armageddon that was very narrowly avoided during the Ripture Wars. In many ways, Puddleby will never be the same. Thankfully, in many ways, it is better now than ever it was before.

So there ends this part of the story. The story continues, but the rest has yet to be written. Perhaps you will have a hand in writing it?