Daeron Elensar
From Loranon
| Player Character | |
|---|---|
| Daeron Elensar | |
| |
| Player | Rick Ohl |
| Affiliations | PC Party |
| |
Description
Background
“The noble and most ancient house of Elensar has served our homeland for the lives of 1000 men. We trace our lineage back to those to whom Corellon Larethian first charged with the defense of our land. We weave the magic as the lesser races weave cloths. My sons will follow me as the High Marshall of our people. You will…”
Let me stop this right here. Maybe you’ve heard the old maxim about the “patience of an elf”? We’re supposed to be centered and grounded. At least that’s what my father always told me in one of his long winded speeches that I introduced you to. Well I missed out on the day when the elders passed out the patience. I never felt the call of the “noble art of spellweaving”. Too many old books, never enough woods, fields, and caves.
There were always two plans for the way my life would unfold. Mine and my father’s. I’d like to think that mother might have understood, but like the other noble elf-women she held her tongue and did not intervene. Father hovered over me as I read tome after tome detailing the history of our people, magical theory, and alchemy. When he was away, I took to the forests. There I learned about the hunt. My senses were made keen by studying the sights and sounds of the forests. I learned to stalk my prey unseen. It became a game at home. I’d sneak up behind my sisters to scare them, or entertain them with acrobatics I honed while running alongside deer and rabbits, or while escaping from the bears in the deep woods.
Needless to say my father was never pleased by my forest forays or “tasteless displays”. When he witnesses them they usually resulted in more sessions with his personal library. I think that he thought that I would outgrow my wanderlust, settle down and accept what he thought would be my place.
Looking back on it, I suppose that I always knew that we’d reach a parting of the ways when I came of age. That was when I was expected to pass the rites and rituals that would mark the beginning of my formal training and passage into the nobility. Like my brother before me, I was expected to study the arcane arts, marry an elvish noble that my parents had selected for me, and accept my new place among out people. But my father and the elders never knew about Nessa…
Nessa was the girl that I loved before I knew what love was. Her parents weren’t poor, no one in our tribe really was. Her father was just a tradesman, not a revered Mage Knight like my father. He crafted my first bow when I was young and still discovering the forests surrounding our mountain home.
I was also discovering Nessa. She would often accompany me when I trekked out into the forest. We spent hours singing songs that she wrote, and spent evenings watching the stars from treetops. I brought her rare flowers I found around the mountains and forests, and she arranged them in her golden hair.
When we got older I told my father about my intention to take Nessa as my bride. He gave me a very long and tiresome lecture about the tradition of our people, and how I was to adhere to it, marry the woman he had chosen for me, and accept my station. That was when I knew I had to go.
The night before the rites a feast was held in my honor. I knew that even my father and the elders would let their guard down as they indulged in wine and food. They would sleep deeply that night. Bowls of wine were passed among us, and everyone drank deeply. At the high table, I could see my Nessa, pretending to indulge with the rest, but instead I saw the sadness behind her smile. She knew what I planned to do.
That night when the village slept, I made my preparations. I stole enough money from my father to get me on my way. Food I knew I could get. Where I was going? I had no idea. All I knew was that I had no place here. I wanted to be free of tradition. Free of a life I wanted no part of.
She met me in our spot. I could see the tears even in the moonlight. We lay in the grass and talked about what we would do when I came back for her. I kissed her…and I walked away.
The months after that were difficult. I wandered far. Through the Spikeshroud Mountains. Through the Jungles of Southern Amedio. I even passed through the new beginnings of the city of Cauldron. I learned as I traveled. I learned more about stealth in the Jungles. In Cauldron I learned about infiltration. How to enter and escape without detection. I managed to escape the city slightly richer but slightly more wanted. The last job was different.
I knew there was something about the old man when I met him in the alley. The terms were too good. I was too hungry. All I had to do was steal a small statue from the newly constructed Temple of Pelor. It depicted an armored and cloaked man holding blazing sun. With construction going on and no guards posted it was easy enough to grab it.
I knew something was up when I entered the alley again. Something told me that I wasn’t alone as I entered with the merchandise. I was right.
I felt the dart coming before I saw it, and was barely able to avoid it. I felt them coming, and they came at me from behind. City guards. The only thing that saved me was the rebuilding, and a nearby pile of construction materials. I was able to climb up and escape to the rooftops. I saw the darts coming. Why darts? Why not arrows? It still bothers me to this day. Who was that old man and why had he set me up? No one else knew about our drop point.
I needed to move on. I’d heard about another town; closer to the mountains I’d once called home. I knew they were looking for me. I knew my father is probably looking for me. What was this statue I have hidden among my belongings?
I’d lose myself in another rebuilding city.
