Vento Villanova

My name is Vento Villanova. Scholar, cartographer, adventurer, and wizard.

And my life is not one destined to be lost in the annals of mediocrity.

Early Years
I was born into a life of poverty, in a small rural village known as Navarre in the North Western reaches of Mantovia. I imagine that from the very first breath I took, my parents knew that there was something different about me, something strange. Where they were both dark of hair and skin, I am pale of hair and my skin has a touch of the sky's hues within it. I can only speculate as to their reasons for abandoning me, superstitious commoners that they were, or even if the story that the priests told me when I was old enough to understand is even true to begin with. Who my parents are has never truly been an issue I wished to delve into, as they so clearly did not want me, I have no desire to have a reunion with them. The past, as they say, is in the past. Better to look forward.

The priests found me a home in a local orphanage, where I was raised amongst several other children who were either unwanted like myself, or separated from their families through other circumstances. I will not say that life was easy when I was a child, for that is not the case for any orphan, nor will I wax philosophical upon fond memories of the friends I made or the adventures I had. There were good times with the bad, but the way I see it, my life did not truly begin until I was accepted to attend the wizard Adriano Grippi as his apprentice. He had come to the orphanage and hand picked me out of the others, lifting me from the proverbial mud and into a life of studious work and hard earned rewards.

At first, like any student of the arcane arts, I spent much of my time learning the basics and doing menial chores for my master. I penned letters, cleaned his laboratory, bought his groceries, did his laundry, and any number of other things that would allow him to focus on his study. It was not until my fourth year with him that I learned to harness even the most simple of cantrips, yet in that time he had taught me to read and write, to do numbers, encouraged my talents for art and the pursuit of knowledge and languages. He fed me, clothed me, and gave me a place to sleep where I did not have to worry about bugs in the mattress. He took a disposessed orphan and shaped him into a man of worth, and for that, I will be forever grateful.