by The Rat
Small Beginnings bring great things In the land of Rethelm.
The Diary of Alihadro Greyfeder, Fourth Historian to Spaulding
The Day Seventh, in season fifth, of the 1200th year of Spaulding.
On this date something altogether unremarkable occurred. A young raven-feathered harpy hatched in an alleyway in the river town of Belton. The name of the hatchling was Murla, Murla Tuke and she was the daughter of a fair harpy who led a hard life, the kind frequented by fishermen and outlaws, though bless her heart she will never know. I found her there in the arms of a thief with a red band under his right arm and through some gentle persuasion, and no small amount of foot work, I brought forth this account of her life up unto this date. She was birthed outside of an inn on the southernmost front of the city near the east side of the Portsmouth. Her mother, hoping that she would not live to lead such a life as her left her egg on the trash heap in hopes her light might extinguish gently.
From the heap the egg was soon found by a scavenger searching the heap. Assuming that he had found a Gem of great value, tossed wayside by some indifferent visiting royalty, he brought it under-cloak to the city square, seeking value and validation. A merchant knowingly or unknowingly quickly swept for a modest price claiming it to be a low value jade from the northwesterly kingdoms of Tor'Kuzul. The merchant, making out like a thief with his prize close to chest, was soon laid low by the one he mimicked so closely. And that is what brought me to find the thief, dumbstruck, with a toddling harpy standing on his chest outside a hovel on the north end of town. I spirited her to the orphanage in near the center, where I signed for her and gave to her the name of Murla. Tuke was a given for someone of her heritage, and I could not hold any sway in the matter.