Greetings to all those who read these words!

I am Pedro de Alcazar. I come from the northern part of Portugal. My family's estate is a short distance upstream on the River Douro from the city of Oporto. I am the third son of my father, Tristam, and my mother, Gracia. The oldest, Nuno, will inherit the estate, and he is already making a name for himself on the tournament circuit as a good jouster. My other brother, Isidoro, is of a more scholarly bent than my brother or myself. He is a canon in the cathedral of Oporto. In the old days, our ancestor, Vidas, was a valiant yeoman, and he was rewarded for his valor by receiving knighthood at the hands of the ruler of Portugal, at that time a county of the kingdom of Leon. Our arms are argent a tower purpure. I have added three bunches of grapes around the tower in my arms to set them apart from the arms used by others in the family.

My position, as the third son, presented my father with some difficulties. I could hardly dispossess Nuno or Isidoro, after all, and, while the de Alcazars are gentlemen, one and all, a good name does not always translate into a fat purse. Even worse, I spent more time over the romances of King Arthur than upon holy books and I never performed well on the field when he trained Nuno and I in the use of arms. I also picked up the art of heraldry from those books and itinerant heralds and troubadours.

On the other hand, I do have a talent for versifying. Diogo, our chaplain and tutor, thought I might find a place for myself in the patronage of some grandee, or even the king, writing poetry and also making myself useful by keeping track of the great man's correspondence and archives. My father and my uncles agreed that this was a suitable enough path for a De Alcazar, and I was sent to the capitol, Lisbon, with letters of introduction to important men.

I was sent from one person to another. Finally, I found a patron, who, unfortunately, was about to leave for the colonies. He expected me to be his archivist and secretary, which would leave me some time for reading and writing. Our hopes for a return to Portugal were, in part, based upon the hope that people back home would appreciate my poetry so much that they might want to see the poet and his patron back home.

We left the harbor under a clear sky, but after a week of good sailing, a tempest came up. We were wrecked. I tried to swim to shore. I was fortunate; having grown up on the banks of the Douro River, I know the ways of boats and of swimming.

For reasons known only to God, I washed up on another riverbank, in the barony of Illiton in the Midrealm. I spent a great deal of time there just trying to get my bearings. I decided that I was on an island somewhere off Cathay. Home, then, was to the east. I needed to return home, to let the king know that a gigantic island lay between the Azores and Cathay.

I also made a number of friends. Once, we made a great expedition eastward. I heard from the locals that the ocean lay even farther to the east, and I returned to Illiton to gather all of my supplies together for a chance to go to the sea. I ran out of supplies in the hills around Dernehealde.

I stayed at Dernehealde for two years, soaking up lore from the scholars there. While I was at Dernehealde, I had the opportunity to render some service to the king of the Midrealmers, a Moor named Jafar, for which he enrolled me among his nobles. I also met the love of my life, Devora bat Shimshon, a Jewess from the Ottoman Empire, whose family was once resident in Portugal or Spain.

At Dernhealde, I learned that the people to the south and east, the Atlantians, were a rich, generous, and noble people. I decided that I would seek patronage from among them.

Almost as soon as I arrived in Storvik, one of the oldest Atlantian baronies, I found the sort of patronage that a poet and herald can derive a genteel living from. The Atlantians have a great regard for heralds. I joined the Atlantian College of Heralds. I was able to convince Devora to join me in Storvik. Not long after that, I was appointed by the baroness of Storvik to be her personal herald, an office I held for many years before handing it off on Yule Revel, AS 39.

I have also found other patrons, among them Herveus d'Ormonde, a Peer of the Realm, who has introduced me to his allies, the Cambions. I am also a member of the staff of Wreath Queen of Arms. Finally, I edit the quarterly bulletin for the Atlantian College of Heralds, Heralds' Point.

My labors as a herald and poet seem to have found some favor with the king of the Atlantians. In his generosity, the king has chosen me to be a companion of his noble Order of the Golden Dolphin. Devora has also found patronage and favor among the Atlantians. She had the chance to render some service to Anton, the king of the Atlantians, in much the same manner that I had been able to do for Jafar, and, in like manner, she, too was enrolled in the Atlantian nobility. Her labors and skill as a cook have brought her quite a bit of local recognition-she was asked to found Storvik's Order of the Owl, of which I was made a companion about a year later. Devora has also become a companion of Storvik's Order of the Lozulet, and she's also received Storvik's Award of the Skull and Crossed Spoons.