High atop the Franconian plateau, where spring nymphs dance in clear waters and dryads, with soft song, guard the forest's balance, Elvarin Thalor of the Alder Spring was born. Here, where Treebeard once had his ancestral seat to protect the ancient groves, the wood itself took note of his arrival.
Even at a young age, his connection to living matter was evident. While other children fought with sticks, Elvarin heard the echo in the wood – stories that spoke of a world before time.
When the time for the apprenticeship arrived, there were three knocks at the wooden door. As the third knock sounded - deep, rhythmic, portentous - a magical jolt ran through the room. The air shimmered, as if the wood itself had recognized the call. Elvarin paused. He knew: This was no ordinary visitor.
With trembling hands, he opened the door. A mighty shadow fell upon him. Elvarin's eyes gleamed, and his gaze slid reverently up to the upper doorframe. A broad-shouldered, tall man stood before him, his face half-hidden by a long, thick beard. The initially stern look transformed, at the sight of young Elvarin, into a loving, caring smile, only faintly visible beneath the beard.
„Elvarin Thalor! Ich bin Maelgrin Eisenherz, Archomagus und Gildenmeister der Gilde „Thors Hammer“. Ich möchte Dich einladen, bei mir in die Lehre zu gehen!“