Palo the First

Palo the First
“My life has been one of an endless pursuit of peace and equality. I have seen my kind reduced to the smallest race on this damned world and I have seen others like me killed over land and religion. I left my family to change this world just as prophesized. I traveled from one pole to the next; I have been denied room at many Inns due to the fact that I have pointy ears. I had seen gnome children orphaned by death. Hatred knows no spectrum and humans are best at their hate. “-Palo I

I suppose I should tell you of my life of flesh before my life of spirit. My mother was a beautiful song bird; my father was a proud man. As a child I spent many days in the fields harvesting with my mother I learned many songs that way, her long ivory hair swaying in the wind her soft voice a melody while she worked. I learned how to hunt and kill with my father and nothing changed until the night my mother died.
There was a foul order in the air that night my mother would say this meant a demon was nearby. We had been traveling to our new home to the west when out caravan came under attack. The ambush left almost all dead my father and I were the only ones left. My mother would have looked like she was sleeping hadn’t there have been blood staining her ivory hair. My father was unconscious and had been stabbed in the stomach. Other bodies were strewn around me, I cried for hours until someone found me. An old gypsy woman came out from the brush only to see me standing next to my father crying soaked in blood. She let out a sharp whistle and others soon emerged. Two men carried my father away and the woman came up to me and asked me my name. I told her my name was Palo and her eyes grew wide she spoke to herself in a language I didn’t understand and whisked me away.
That night on gypsy wagon my father woke and was screaming in pain, not from his fatal wound but for the pain in his heart. I sat with the old gypsy woman and sang a song my mother taught me to drown out my father screaming. To my surprise the woman began to sing as well and it seemed tears of joy welled up in her eyes. She had told me that’s she was glad to have finally found me. On the third night of travel they had told me that my father would not make it, for his will to life had been taken from him and he would not survive the night. I was now an orphan lost to the world or so I thought.
My rescuers had taken me in taught me their ways and held me high. I was raised to sing and play but never understood the importance I had to them until I received that violin. Just before my leap into man hood the old woman took me to an ancient marker a giant stone in an empty field. She told me this stone marked the place where their savior had fallen but he said to them that he would return then return again she had told me his name was Palo. As we approached the gigantic red stone its shadow cast a far line to my feet. Once we were standing next to it the old woman had me put my hands on the stone, at first it just felt like cold rock but then a tingle came over my palms. Suddenly my hands under my weight entered the stone I could feel something inside so I took hold and removed my hands. The old woman wailed and fell to her knees I was now holding an ivory instrument and a bow unlike any I had ever seen before. This was the beginning of prophecy. When I returned to camp I was a savior and was told about the new land that I would rule.