Anthony Glersk

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   Anthony Glersk was born to his parents, Heidi and Terrance Glersk, almost six hundred years ago in Sardovia. Terrance was a wizard’s assistant, with no latent magical talent himself, just an eye for a good filing system and somehow managed to keep his scatterbrained employer on a regular schedule. Heidi worked with the dwarven consulate during a rather tense period between Sardovia and the dwarves of Dunkledur.
   Anthony was an only child, and the busy lives of his parents meant he was often dragged along while they handled their business. Terrance’s wizard employer always had a book for the young boy to read. He remembered the crotchety old man screaming at his father to stop treating him like a child. He said he’ll never forget how much it made him laugh the day he watched his father take away a drink from the old man, only for the old man to use telekinesis to draw the drink from the glass as his father left the room and slipped the traveling line of liquid like a straw.  
   After that, the wizard always had a new book waiting for him whenever he was going to be there. He discovered his love of knowledge.
   The dwarven diplomats, he recalled, always spoke surprisingly softly to him even after having loud screaming matches with his mother. In time, Anthony would spend more and more time with the dwarven assistants and hangers-on of the dwarven diplomats.
   He discovered a love for languages.
   As he grew old, he found himself less and less bored at both his mother’s meetings and his father’s duties. During meetings with the dwarves he found himself acting as translator often, but never during official business. Eventually, his interests in knowledge and languages mixed when he was invited to visit the libraries of Dunkledur when his mother needed to travel there.
   The rigidity and steadfast personalities excited Anthony. What kind of organizational systems did they create? What structure they must have to their historical record! How quickly he’d be able to search a library organized and kept by dwarves!”
   The status of the libraries disappointed him greatly. He was aghast at the complete lack of a system the dwarves seem to have. Their steadfastness and rigidity meant that, though they did things in a very specific way, it was a way that they had developed over three dwarven generations ago. They insisted on keeping it that way.
   Eventually, Anthony found the logic of their system, and started rummaging through all the dwarven lore he could get his hands on.
   He had started to practice simple magicks by himself while reading some of the beginner’s arcane tomes that his father’s employer seemed to have no need for anymore. Stories about him say that one day he was present during an 

experiment the wizard was performing. He was attempting to transmogrify a rodent. Or so, Anthony thought. In a bright flash of fire and lightning, the rodent exploded all over Anthony. The wizard only said, “Oops.”

   Anthony attributed this one event on his childhood for why he never studied either evocation or transmutation magic with any great interest.
   Eventually, Anthony made friends within the dwarven community. He met a dwarven wizard unlike any human wizard he’d ever met. Using the effects of magic to do real work. The human wizards he knew, he recalled at the time, often only performed with the arcane arts for the simple purpose of the performance. The ideals of the arcane that his human ancestry gave him rested loftily in his mind, but saw great potential in the ways the dwarves used it as well.
   Through this dwarven wizard, he met Rhankh Dobrodhan. A dwarf who didn’t take too kindly to humans. After a couple of run ins with Rhankh, Anthony stopped him in the streets of Dunkledur and challenged him to a fight. History shows that Anthony said, “I’m sure I’ll go down in one punch….if you can hit me. You big galoot.” The dwarf’s rage peaked quickly, and charged the skinny human in the middle of the dwarven streets. Anthony smiled as the uncontrolled dwarf swung wildly at him. Every wild haymaker the dwarf threw at him, Anthony conjured a small fist-sized shield of energy for him to punch. Rhankh never touched Anthony.
   Rhankh would, after his pride had healed, proudly tell the story to all who would hear about how his human friend was capable of conjuring shields, “Harder than adamantine!” Anthony would later admit to him that while he was challenging Rhankh, he had also cast a spell on himself to heighten his senses and help him predict Rhankh’s attacks. 
   The two friends were almost inseparable. Mostly because while in Dunkledur, Rhankh had to make sure that Anthony didn’t piss off any dwarves too much by speaking out of turn, and when Rhankh came to Sardovia, Anthony had to teach Rhankh how easily breakable human-made objects were.
   The two became swift friends. 
   Anthony incorporated the dwarven systems of storage and arcane writing into his own writings and magicks, and through a series of events that could fill a book of its own, Anthony and Rhankh headed towards The Dragonborn Dichotomy.  Anthony wanted to see their libraries. Rhankh wanted to punch a dragonborn in the face.
   It wasn’t long before Rhankh got his wish. In a tavern, the two men managed to upset all of the dragonborn patrons all at once, save for one, who, years later, would admit that he saved their lives because “He wasn’t in a position to be interviewed by the authorities for unrelated reasons.” The dragonborn, a thief and a scoundrel, Errhan Lorxiros, guided them through the streets of the dragonborn’s nation.  It didn’t take long for Anthony to grasp the basics of the draconic language, but knew well enough to let it slide when he finally understood that Errhan was claiming ownership of him and Rhankh. He knew well enough not to mention it to Rhankh, either.
   Eventually, after negotiating a payment system with Errhan, Anthony found his way to the dragonborn nation’s libraries, one by one. He was *aghast* at the sight of their organizational system. ”COLOR-BASED!?!?” Rhankh remembers laughing heartily while Anthony ranted at Errhan for a good long time about that one. 
   After a few months, Anthony finally found the logic, and started finding his ways around their libraries, studying the draconic enchantments of self-improvement. Errhan proudly proclaimed that dragonborn were so amazing they didn’t see a point in any magic that didn’t make them even more awesome. 
   Rhankh challenged Errhan to fisticuffs. Errhan agreed, but the fight never happened, because Rhankh demanded too many ‘rules' for the fight. “No breath!? No teeth!? No claws!? You’re just making sure you win!”
   Anthony remembers laughing a lot during their time there, and when Anthony did his best to connect with all the librarians and researchers he could find in his time there, he invited Rhankh and Errhan with him on a trip south, to the lizardfolk swamps.
   Errhan was now receiving payment from the research team, and Rhankh was just happy to do whatever, so to the south they went.
   Lizardfolk etch their records and magic writing onto sticks.
   Errhan remembers Anthony almost crying when they finally figured out how to say ‘Library’ in the lizardfolk’s language and being led to a small room where there were just piles of sticks. It took Anthony another few minutes to realize why he was led there. Errhan remembers laughing a lot while Anthony futilely tried to organize small piles of sticks. 
   They were there for a few months. Rhankh spent a lot of time sparring with the lizardfolk guards. Errhan learned how to carve bone darts from the lizardfolk. Anthony finally had come up with a way to help the lizardfolk druids organize their things. By this point, Anthony had a firm grasp on the lizardfolk language. He asked, in return, to be taught their form of scribing on sticks.
   The dragonborn research team returned to the dichotomy, but Anthony and his two friends continued south, and turned west before they reached The Windswept Wastes. 
   They were captured and questioned by the tieflings that lived in the wastes between the forest and the desert. After it was clear that they, for starters, weren’t “out to get” the tieflings and their fledgling settlement, but they also seemed to have had no idea they were there to begin with.
   They were eventually questioned by Zelidath Malliri, de-facto spokeswoman for the tieflings that lived there, before she ordered their release.  Anthony didn’t have a firm grasp on the Infernal language at that time, but by the time he had spoken to Zelidath throughout the course of his interrogation he was speaking almost fluently. When he turned things around so quickly, Zelidath sighed and reportedly said, “It’s just some smart idiot and his two dumb idiot friends.” 
   When they were released, Anthony asked if they had anything in the way of libraries or schools of research in their home. Zelidath led the group to The Proving Grounds. Tieflings of all shapes and sizes hurled fire and brimstone down upon each other. Zelidath led Anthony to the edges to watch without telling him that watching involves participating.
   Anthony found himself shoved into the middle of the arena, surrounded by tieflings growling and barking at him. Zelidath strode into the arena. Anthony’s eyes widened as she threw a lightning bolt at him. In a panic, Anthony deflected her blast into the air and surrounded himself in a protective orb. Zelidath reached to dispel it, and Anthony countered her spell, and banished her.
   The crowd went silent when the tiny human’s orb fell from around him, and Zelidath vanished. The crowd roared in anger. Anthony tried to explain she would be right back! Errhan rushed out to defend their friend before the tieflings charged him. 
   Anthony dropped the spell, and Zelidath reappeared exactly where she had just been, only laughing uncontrollably. The entire proving ground was silent, save for the laughter of Zelidath. She would later claim she learned an old lesson from Anthony that she had forgotten, and was thankful for it. Zelidath taught Anthony the bone-etching system of magical storage that the tieflings used at that time.  Anthony shook his head, thankful for having learned the lizardfolk’s methods not long ago. 
   Rhankh spent a lot of time at The Proving Grounds during that time. Errhan remembered feeling somewhat at home surrounded by people of different colors.
   Using Zelidath’s influence, resources, and contacts made it easy for the group to make their way back west, and to procure travel across the ocean. 
   Zelidath was rewarding Anthony by taking him to see an old elven friend. She thought Anthony would benefit from learning elven, she said, “After hearing him talk about human, dwarven, dragonborn, tiefling, and lizardfolk methods it’s high-time you learn a real magic language.” Anthony did not hesitate for a second to accept.
   The four travelled across the ocean.
   Zelidath led them through the ancient nation of A’fdell. Elves stared at them with every step they took in their streets. Elven guards made no secret that they were watching their every step. Zelidath strode confidently through the elven streets. It annoyed Rhankh. Errhan always kept a hand on a dagger. Anthony hid behind Zelidath.
   There, they met Chorkraks Miendreisiad, a drow of some repute. He was said to be far older than he appeared to be, but greeted Zelidath as if they were old friends. When Chorkraks heard of Anthony’s endeavor, learning as many languages as he could, and understanding the underpinnings and reasonings for each different races forms of organization and linguistic developments he could only smile and, according to historical documents from that time, say, “I’ve been waiting for a huge nerd like you for a long time.”
   Chorkraks opened his vaults to Anthony.
   Throughout the following years, Anthony, Rhankh, Errhan, Zelidath, and Chorkraks would vanish from the world, and return without explanation to anyone. Each time, returning with piles of tomes and knowledge for Anthony to pore over.
   Nearing forty years of age, Anthony Glersk unexpectedly returned to Sardovia. He invited all the scholars from all of the nations of the world at the time to join him at a summit. It was at this summit where Anthony Glersk proposed his style of arcane writings. A system, broken down into its most basic parts, where the fundamentals are laid bare, without flair, without racial bias, and without room for confusion.
   The excitement and fervor in the magical community made it easy for Glersk to open the Sardovian Magical Institute. There he taught his methods. Slowly, the world adapted to his objectively superior system. Though some places still teach and use the old ways, it is thanks to Anthony Glersk that a scroll is written in the language of the arcane rather than common, dwarven, draconic, infernal, or elven.