A person has become famous for something they didn't do. Or maybe they did do it, but not how everyone else thinks. What's their story?
I don't have time to write the whole tale now - it'll be dark soon. But here's the beginning, since that stupid bard won't leave me alone until I tell him the "real story."
It started when I was six. Still just a little girl. The Sisters were on Search, looking for girls or young women with the Gift. The Sister Superior swore right up until her dying day that she'd never seen a Gift so strong as mine. Load of codswallop, if you ask me.
Anyway, I was taken to the temple that very night, and my training started the next day. I learned about the Fire, the Gift, the Channels, and other arcane ridiculousness. What I actually enjoyed were the lessons on archery, horsemanship, and swordplay. I got to see my family on alternate weekends up until I turned 16, and they put me through the Rite. Then I was a Sister, and had to "sever ties" with my past life. Idiocy, in y opinion, but I'm just a Sister, and my opinion doesn't matter much.
The story you're actually interested in didn't get on its way until a couple years later - I was 18 and still in the middle of my Journeyman tasks. Help this many people, slay this many demons, forge this many weapons. It was a long check list, and I think I might have "accidentally" ignored some of the items. They were dirt-stained - how was I supposed to know there wasn't a checkmark under all that?
I heard tell of a "sage" that lived high on a mountain near the border. It was said that the area was plagued by demons, and that the sage was the one that held them at bay so the local villages could survive, especially through the cold months.
Of course I had to go and see this sage. I wanted to know how a single person could defend multiple villages effectively. I wanted to be strong enough that when I settled in a place, my reputation would be as good as the sage's. I wanted the glory and honor of strength, and lacked the patience to see the cost of that strength.
I lost count of how many things went wrong during that trip, and even if I hadn't, it was so many years ago now that I've forgotten most of the details. What I do remember, as clearly as I can see this page before me now, is the evening I reached the sage's home, and was invited in for hot tea and scones by the most unassuming, dumpy little woman I've ever met.
You can chew on that for a while. I will continue this tale on the morrow.