You are Marcus Bluemantle, and you have spent fifteen of the twenty-three years of your life under the demanding tutelage of High Maga Leana Whitedove, who taught you how to harness the power of the elements, bend space and time and twist perceptions, as well as call upon outside powers... And you are now free to make your way into the world.
While Mistress Leana proved to be a skilled tutor in the arts of sorcery, she neglected certain other parts of your education, leaving you to crave for her body, magically rejuvenated and remolded into the epitome of male fantasies. Luckily, the staff of her manor had a few women willing to alleviate your needs, and (un?)fortunately, to the best of your knowledge, your sired no child.
After ensuring that your control over your Gift was strong enough to avoid becoming the epicenter of a magical disaster, High Maga Leana took you before a council of her peers and you were submitted to the First Sorcerer's Gauntlet, the first real test of your aptitude and attitude as a Sorcerer. The memories of this illusory trial (which you were induced to believe was real) are fuzzy at best, but you succeeded and were bestowed the title of Magus as well as your Wizard's Staff.
Congratulations, Magus Bluemantle! You can now wander the world until you find a place to call home, and make yourself a name.
It is the middle of spring, you are riding Eglantine, your mare, on the road to Eryn's Brook, the town nearest to Whitedove Manor. You left your home of fifteen years this morning, after your Mistress bid you farewell warmly and offered you a few magical trinkets.
In addition to your Wizard's Staff, a three foot long rune-carved rod of a material that feels like wood but tougher than the toughest steel, can channel magical energy to reinforce your spells or extend to nearly seven feet, you have:
An Alchemist's Pouch, a purple belt purse that can summon basic alchemy tools and even store and keep fresh vastly more that its apparent size in alchemical ingredients and potions. Not as good as a true laboratory, but you will put it to good use, whether to brew a knock-out drug, a love philter or an aphrodisiac powder.
A Bloodless Athamé, a ten inch long curved and rune-etched dagger with a jewelled handle. Normally confined to ritual uses, it has been mystically enhanced to remain mystically stainless even if used in a fight (which should normally deteriorate its ritual value). Its silver and cold iron alloy can harm creatures resistant to both mundane weapons and raw magical energy like vampires and werewolves (how you get close enough to land a blow without dying is your own business though).
Finally, a Warlock's Talisman. Since magic flows through them so well, sorcerers are MORE vulnerable to it than a normal human and have to rely on efficient but energy-consuming active defenses. This small electrum amulet grants you a passive magic resistance that could save your life in an ambush involving magic-users. Lose it or take it off at your own risk.
Of course, your mistress also gave you a few basic commodities, like a backpack filled with supplies and adventuring gear, a few letters of marque to potential noble employers, and a purse full of gold.
It is late in the afternoon. You know that you will reach Eryn's Brook in the evening if all goes well.
Which Path will your destiny lead you to?