Inside the town of Whitburg, a newborn man is sent from the heavens. Crying, in agonizing pain of emerging from the lightning channels, Galston was born. He perused the town of Whitburg looking for inspiration and ambition in his early days. He met plenty of good people, and saw a lot of great stonework. With plentiful amounts of gall, he chased his new dreams and aspirations. Though one to once dwell on his family name, lost to the annals, he simply accepted it as a name that sounded worthy of respect.
Acquiring wealth Galston left the prosperous town of Whitburg to spread his wings and see the world. He landed in the town of Raicolban, where he saw something absolutely filled to the brim of potential. The lack of a true feasting hall! Many a great memorable nights(and rough mornings) in the halls of Whitburg always rejuvenated Galston's soul. Using his fondness of stonework and architecture, he went to work on a new feasting hall.
He gathered skilled and efficient laborers from across the region and set them to work. The project demanded enormous quantities of stone. Naturally, Galston was pleased. “Stone is a fine material,” he often remarked. Indeed, he seemed to have a particular affinity for it. Construction continued for years, until at last the feasting hall stood proudly in the town.
At its grand opening, a local physician approached Galston. “Master Galstone, I hear you've had trouble with your gall.” Galston frowned, “My what?” he responded, confused. “Your gall.” “Oh. Yes. Occasionally.” The physician nodded thoughtfully, “And have you ever suffered from stones?” “Of course. The hall is made almost entirely of them.” Galston replied plainly. The physician stared at him for a moment. “Yes,” he eventually said. “Of course.” Not another thought was given to the conversation.
The Galstone Feasting Hall became a festive place for nobles, merchants, craftsmen, and travelers. Galston himself became a renowned figure, treating his guests delightfully to amazing food. His name became inseparable from the magnificent structure he had brought into being. Some folks have since offered the suggestion that Galston Galstone himself built the halls from stones crafted by his own skill. Others will say that the peculiar stench that wafted around the construction yard is evidence of something else entirely. Such speculation is, of course, beneath the citizens of Raicolban.
The truth is simple. Galston Galstone was a man of ambition, a man of architecture, and, above all, a man who knew the value of good stonework. Anything else is merely coincidence.