Where you were born?
(if in a city describe it well and I might add it to the map)
Druid's grove.

When and under what circumstances?
We were always wandering, and at the time, only a druid's grove was nearby. They helped my mother, and bestowed their blessings upon us all.

What your family was like and their names
Mother = Erim

Elven wizard. Long, dark, wavy hair, deep green eyes, slim and quite light. Innovative, loving and caring. Always thrilled by magic, uses magic for lots of silly things for fun, invented own spells, potions etc., can craft magical items. Physically quite weak, mentally very strong. Can fly into fierce tempers if things go wrong, curious person, fears snakes and heights.
Fighting style: mainly uses magic, shortbow and daggers, able to use short swords very well but tends to stay away from them. Bewitches weapons for better effectiveness. Cleans weapons thoroughly after battles.
Father = Falco

Elven bard. Short, black, curly hair, green eyes, well-built and muscular. Gentle, quite easygoing, loving, very stubborn and headstrong but gives in gracefully when proved wrong, is easily annoyed when small things go wrong but has a "what is done cannot be undone" attitude about bigger things that go wrong. Loves foreign music and songs, plays the lyre but can play other instruments, physically fairly strong, mentally pretty strong, lots of knowledge, has a knack to fascinate creatures.
Fighting style: mainly uses rapier and longbow, able to use longsword. Reluctant enough to battle, prefers to fascinate enemies, but will always protect his friends and family. Collects the blood from his weapons after fights and gives it to mother or sells it as potion ingredients.

Training (under who, where etc)

Self-trained as rogue, after being fascinated by young rogues in a city visited. Picked up skills from other rogues in other cities, practised constantly. Parents taught weapon skills, mother taught magic, father taught music.
Anything in your life affect you very deeply?

The attack by Erythnul's followers.

Boyfriends/girlfriends/partners ? etc
Nope, feels too young.

Anything else you feel is important to your character Goals if they have any

Battling Erythnul's followers, seeking vengeance. Perfecting rogue skills. Gaining experience with fighting and solving puzzles. Making life-long friends (hoping his present companions are some).

Why are you in torn/ the old forest?

Wandering around has always been my life. Torn was just the next place I came to.
What your character is like, personality wise, habits etc

Curious but careful. Very stubborn. Loves logical puzzles, sees them a intellectual challenges. Loves ocarina music, can play it but hasn't done so in a long time.
Craves friendship but finds it difficult to make friends. Tries to change his personality to suit the likes of others, as it makes him feel good to be liked.
Loves astronomy and botany. Likes to think for the sake of thinking, to clear and focus his mind. Admires others easily, tends to envy others if they can do things better but tries to hide his envy. Loves the sound of flowing water, eg. a river or waterfall.
Not someone bound by habits.

Area my mother is from:
Altena, a snowy country; the
capital city is kept warm by magic. Populated entirely
by arcane spellcasters.

Area my father is from:
Navarre, a fortress in the
desert, populated mainly by ninjas, good rogues and
some magicians, mainly necromancers

Area around my birthplace:
Forcena, a grassland
country ruled by a king, where knights, fighters and
paladins can train; also famous because of gladiators
and sword masters.

City near my birthplace:
Wendel, a holy city revered
by paladins, and good druids and clerics; the area is
kept pure by the holy light of the gods and a magical
barrier created by the clerics of the city.


In your own words tell me about you..

As an elf, adventuring is not always a way of life. When young, you tend to stay with your family, who introduce you to the basic life of an elf, who make you excel in swordplay and archery, arts and music, and, frequently, in magic. Such a life was alien to me as a child. Loving parents, but always on the move; that was my childhood. With a bard as a father, that�s not difficult to explain. His love for music was too strong to keep it to himself; he had to share it with others. But everywhere we were received well, as his Elven songs brought cheerfulness and merriment wherever we went, and his Common songs were understood by everyone. Even dwarves would clap and cheer for him. His talents with the lyre and lute were not matched by many others.

My mother gladly undertook these travels, both out of love for my father, but also for her research. For my mother was a wizard, and was always curious about new discoveries and new ways to try things out. Even old spells were improvised by her. The most ridiculous things one could think of could be done by magic, if my mother tried them. She was always thinking of new ways. And myself? I was happy to follow; I couldn�t have wished myself a better childhood. The songs of my father inspired me, they carried me off to sleep at night; by day, my father would play plenty of songs to keep me amused, unknowingly fascinating me. My mother would use magic tricks to make me laugh if I was bored, or she would sit near me in our carriage and tell me about the rigorous training a wizard must undergo to learn the art of magic. She would explain the importance of a clear, focused mind when preparing spells in the morning, and she taught me a few amusing tricks, such as conjuring a faint glow around my hand. It could frighten off non-magical creatures, she always said. They wouldn�t understand what was going on, and might give me the time to get away. She never knew I used it after trancing to give me some light when I flicked through her spellbook or examined her wands, rings and scrolls when she was trancing.

Yes, magic and music were my basic lot in life. But it wasn�t all songs and spells. I was also taught to defend myself. My father always used a longbow in battles, but I could not practise with it; I was too small and I had too little strength in my arms to draw the bow back. Not even my mother�s enchantments could cure that. Therefore, on my sixty-seventh birthday, they gave me my very own shortbow. And I practised, every day, with wooden arrows father would cut from old branches; real arrows would have been too dangerous, as I was only small. The improvised arrows were enchanted by mother. They could not break nor kill, as they passed through living creatures, and would return to my quiver if I uttered the magic word. I sometimes beat my father in our practise matches, and moving targets soon proved no trouble; I�d practise from the carriage, and then recall the arrow. But archery was not enough; experience with a blade weapon was also necessary. Father used to do close-up battles using a rapier, so I became quite skilled at that, too. Mother, on the other hand, favoured to use magic or small weapons that were easily concealed but easily used. She had a number of daggers and a few enchanted shurikens; a hand crossbow was also hanging around, and an oaken quarterstaff was never far. I loved dagger practise, throwing them at a target when we took a break from our travels or stopped for the night.

When I turned eighty-three, I began to surprise everyone by doing new magic tricks; I had the talent of a sorcerer. Mother was thrilled: the third magician in our family. Father enjoyed my tricks; I loved pulling small pranks in towns. Even as an elf, enjoyment is important, especially when you�re young and you just discovered you have a knack for magic. But I never did anything vicious or put a person�s life in danger, at least not that I can remember. But when I started chatting with some rogues in a small village, I came face to face with my dreams. Their stories fascinated me more than father�s songs� All the different ways that a lock can be trapped, the protection spells put on treasure chests and spellbooks, the dangers of sneaking after people to try and pick their pockets� Frankly, some ideas frightened me. But the life of a rogue has a rewarding side too. The satisfaction of thwarting traps and spells, savouring the rewards when successfully picking pockets or opening treasure chests� A rogue�s life is a challenge, a life of perfecting stealth and quietness, blending into a crowd until the right moment comes to sneak up, do your job and get away. At that moment I decided that a rogue�s life would be for me.

I trained in quiet, as my parents would not agree with my decision. But I should have known better; mother got suspicious of my strange behaviour, and decided to scry on me when I disappeared once too often. She was not happy about the fact that I took to life as a rogue instead of a magician. Truthfully, she was furious because I had let myself in with such types of people. Father, however, didn�t seem to mind too much. Not a miracle, as bards and rogues have a lot in common as regards to skilfulness and knowledge of things. He made mother shove her anger aside and accept that a rogue in the family could be very useful. Indeed, my dexterity and fast fingers have gotten us out of many tight squeezes and gave us the occasional laugh as well. Quickly nicking somebody�s weapon before a fight, grabbing the occasional material mother needed for a spell in the heat of battle, but also my ability to sneak attack enemies proved very, very useful indeed. Some seemingly hopeless fights were won by that, when father and I flanked a gnoll, for example. It had knocked out mother and nearly did the same to father, but my attack was the final one for him. A quick visit to a friendly cleric brought us back to normal, and by then mother had grown to appreciate my rogue abilities. She even allowed me to meet other rogues, stopping in some towns to facilitate training, albeit short. Truth be told, I neglected my sorcerer side, putting all my energy into perfecting stealth and training my fast fingers.

Then one day, we passed through a desolate area, and stumbled across an old ruined tower. I felt danger -my rogue training gave me a very good sense of lurking perils- but my parents were not worried. What could possibly harm us, with Corellon Larethian watching over us? We soon found out�

We kept on going, and the path came close to the ruin. By then, I wanted to grab my father�s rapier and force my parents to turn around. But I couldn�t do it. I had been wrong before, and the consequences had not always been very nice. I didn�t want to make them angry with me for possibly nothing. But then it was too late. A gang of experienced rogues, necromancers and fighters attacked us. We were totally taken by surprise, and we had no chance to defend ourselves. The rogues weakened us enormously, as they exploit the element of surprise before they attack. And when a cleric spoke out an incantation, mother cringed as if she had been punched, a look of utmost terror on her face. I soon learned why, as a very powerful spell hit us. In the split second before we were struck, I saw a symbol on the cleric�s robes. A round face with a wide, evil grin, surrounded by what seemed like flames and wisps of smoke. It seemed to cheer them on, while draining all hope from me. I don�t remember much of what followed, except searing pain as a strange rune glowed faintly in the sky. My parents were knocked out, and I wanted to follow, the pain was so intense. But I was still conscious as a very strong light started to shine. It seemed as if the sun had gotten brighter. The adversaries were retreating from the light, holding their eyes, crying out in pain, while I felt myself slip away into a deep, dark emptiness�

I awoke in what seemed to be a temple of some kind, but not the one I was so innately familiar with. I saw an unfamiliar holy symbol, not of the crescent moon, nor of the silver unicorn, but of a bright golden sun. Awestruck, I gazed at it, not knowing that somebody left the room at that moment. I kept gazing at the fascinating symbol, until I heard a friendly voice. I turned around and looked into a smiling human face with friendly eyes. Dazed, I sat up, realising I was lying on a couch, when he spoke to me again. But my head was so filled with confusing thoughts and memories that I did not hear him. Finally, when I looked at him again, he spoke Elven to me. He asked me how I was feeling. I didn�t answer, but looked around and asked where my parents were. They are safe, he told me. They are well cared for.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was sitting up. I suppose that I tranced after the pain I suffered. There was nobody in the room when I awoke. I stood up and walked to the door. I could hear Elven being spoken, so I opened the door and looked into the room. I saw my parents looking at me, and also the friendly man who spoke to me before. I rushed into the room, so glad that my parents were all right that tears poured down my cheeks. Mother started to cry, too, and even father had to wipe some tears away. They explained to me about the people who attacked us, and how we were saved by the clerics of this temple. But I wasn�t convinced. I recognised the magic that the necromancers used, and I know that illusions and enchantments are frequently among their repertoire as well. I voiced my doubts to the cleric, after which he started laughing and proved to me how real all this was by casting dispel magic. Nothing happened, but I felt the energy in his spell, and illusions never create the same sensation, so this spell was real. I was enormously relieved. And something good also came out of this. I became a different person. I was more mature, realising that the world is full of dangers I could not foresee, and my little experience was not enough. I decided to perfect my training, but to keep a little more attention on my magical side, too. I became very stubborn, however, but that did pay off: not many things were safe from my fingers. Locks, pockets, even ropes could not thwart me for long; knots were easily removed, but putting them in was a problem. But you can�t have everything.

We stayed in the town a few more days to recover, during which time I trained even more. My parents then voiced the opinion of returning to our family for a while. I agreed, as I had not seen them in quite a while. But once there, the wanderlust caught me, and the rage of the memories of the brutal attack kept on burning in my soul. I swore that I would exact revenge on these people, make the god with the grinning face pay, even though I did not know what the symbol on the enemy cleric was. But no matter what, I would find them and give them their punishment. My parents were sorry to see me leave, but could understand me. They gave me some items I was familiar with, including two of my mother�s daggers and my father�s rapier. Of course, I took my trusty shortbow, for which I could finally use proper arrows. I had to promise that I�d keep them informed about my doings. Finally, they gave me their blessing, and asked Corellon Larethian to protect me. But I wasn�t too sure about him anymore. Sure, he was the god of the Elves, we were created from his blood, but was it him who saved us in that battle? Was it his power the friendly clerics used, or was it the shining sun? I had to find out. My travels were to take a spiritual swing as well as a personal one. And so my journey began.