George Windsor, a back story

George Windsor
Born to a family of no royal or political rank I worked the fields like all of my brothers, sisters and friends. My early years are very un-remarkable; I was just an average “Joe” until that one day. It was during the harvest of my 20th year. Most of the men from my small village were out in the fields reaping what we had sown. Smoke drifted over the horizon. Thick, billowing, black smoke was threatening to block out the sun. Dread started to rise up within me as a shadow is cast onto the field. The fields around me erupt into flame as my ears are assailed by the screams of men and beast alike and my nostrils are filled with the foul odors of burning hair and flesh. Night came upon us before noon that day as my lungs filled with the acrid smoke. Coughing, wheezing, gasping, choking, I slip into darkness.
I am awakened by the constant throbbing of pain throughout my body. Slowly my eyes creek open and I find myself in a clean, comfortable bed. Soon thereafter I am attended to by a cleric of IO. IO, for those of you who might have been living on the moon for 3,000 years or so, is the god of the dragons. That should not come as a surprise. Being the dragons rule the lands like the kings of old, why shouldn’t they have their own gods? And why would these gods not have their own clerics? So I now find myself recovering from burns that are over more than 70% of my body in the care of the clerics of IO. It is during this time that I started to learn about her. Sometime later, possibly 3 months, during one of the many talks (lectures if you will) I felt something I have not felt since my childhood. I can only describe it as a deep sense of calming love. I kept this feeling to myself only to be betrayed a few days later. The betrayal came way of a gift you see. During my slow recovery I would pass the time reading. I read so much that at this point the only things left to read were the texts that the clerics kept out of the public’s reach. Out of boredom and not a quest for knowledge I tracked down these texts. How was I, an uneducated farm boy, to know that only those who can read magic or that had felt IO’s love could read those texts? There I am in the library reading the “Sacred Scrolls” when the head cleric walks on in & almost falls over himself as he realizes I actually understand it! From that point on I was known as one of Tamar’s chosen.
Time passed and as it did my powers grew. As my powers grew my responsibilities grew. My role went from that of one tending the churches gardens to tending the wounds of one of its most ardent defenders. This is how I met the dwarf Valthic Erdar. Although he follows the teachings of Baumuhat, he is a ferocious warrior and a valiant knight. It is to my honor that I call him a friend.

I found a sweet prestige class