Origin

 

From time out of mind, there had been a druid at Long Lake. The lake lay in the northeast of The Great Dale, well off the beaten path. No one knew why it was called “Long” Lake, since it was in actuality little more than a large pond surrounded by a small forest. On a small rocky island with a few trees, the druid made his home. The few hunters and trappers who came to the area knew the druid could be relied on for help with an injury, as long as they did not take pregnant females or the young of the animals for their prey. Few others knew that the lake existed, much less the druid.

But even druids grow old in time, and though he remained vigorous, he knew his time was running out. He would not leave his lake unprotected, so when he next saw a hunter, he gave the man a letter, written all in Druidic, and ten gold pieces. “Take this letter to my fellow Druids at the Forest of Lethyr, and they will reward you again as I have here.” The man gave his word and set off.

Alas, the hunter was a simple man, and even the ten gold pieces were a fortune to him. He could not resist stopping at a tavern in the first town he came across, and enjoying his new-found wealth. The ale he drank loosened his tongue and soon he was regaling the other patrons with the story of the druid’s letter. Most paid him no heed, but among the crowd was a wandering Elf named Gelarad. The Elf joined the hunter, bought him several rounds, and soon was the man’s only companion. Before long, the hunter, unused to such excess, fell asleep in his chair.

Gelarad reasoned that such a man would be unable to complete the task for the druid – at the best he would drunkenly forget about the letter, or at worst be set on and killed by footpads. So the Elf stole the druid’s letter, and used some of the hunter’s gold to purchase a room from the tavern owner and carried the hunter to the bed. Then he set out to complete the task himself.

It did not take Gelarad long to reach his destination. He traveled often, rarely staying one place for more than a few days. Wanderlust was in his blood, and it also helped to stay ahead of lawmen or husbands with awkward questions. Traveling to the Forest of Lethyr posed no challenge for one of his skills.

The druids received the letter and paid Gelarad the agreed-upon sum. The Elf had attempted to read the letter, but the Druidic language was beyond his skill. Curious, he remained with the druids to see what they would do. They paid him no attention as they sent summons to all their nearby brethren, but when all had gathered that evening, they would not permit Gelarad to follow as they went into their woods together. He knew he would be unable to observe them without discovery, so he resigned himself to waiting.

The next morning he awoke to find the druids going about their business as if nothing had happened. He asked several what had happened in the night, but no answer was forthcoming. Finally he noticed a young woman packing as if for a journey, and asked where she was bound. “I have been chosen for Long Lake,” she replied, “and I begin my journey there today.” Suddenly Gelarad understood – the letter had asked the druids here to send a replacement for the old druid, and last night the druids had chosen that replacement.

“I, Gelarad, brought the request from Long Lake, and I would see it fulfilled. Might I travel with you?” As with most things, Gelarad made this decision on the spur of the moment. The druid was a comely young woman, and he rarely passed up a chance to spend time with a promising girl.

She made no objection, so they set out together later that day. Haethan, for that was the druid’s name, was quiet, as with most druids. But the Elf’s banter and songs soon drew her out, and they sang and laughed together as they traveled.

The days passed quickly and soon they were near Long Lake. Gelarad realized that he was enjoying this trip more than any he had made in years – and he hadn’t even talked the girl into bed. Was he falling in love with this girl, this nature lover? This disturbed him – he was a free spirit, not someone to be tied down to the land or to any one woman. That night, he slipped away, leaving Haethan to finish the journey alone.

For nearly a year, the Elf went back to his old ways, traveling from place to place, seducing, thieving, dancing – anything to forget Haethan. But he could not. Every woman he saw seemed plain, every town was empty, no amount of gold stolen or earned satisfied him. Finally he turned back toward Long Lake, unable to resist seeing her again.

Haethan was there. The old druid had passed away a few months before, and she had taken the island in the lake as her own. When Gelarad approached, she was waiting for him at the lakeshore – none could enter her domain without her knowledge. He had an apology ready, poetic words he had rehearsed to turn aside her anger at his desertion. But at the sight of her all words failed him, and he could only stand mute as she gazed steadily at him.

The silence stretched, and he almost turned to leave. How could he have thought she would welcome him? But then she smiled, and the world brightened. His tongue obeyed him again, and all his words spilled forth, though as he spoke, the words seemed inadequate. Haethan came near, stepped into his arms, and kissed him – and words were no longer needed.

For years, Gelarad and Haethan were lovers at Long Lake. The Elf’s wanderlust was not diminished, and he would often leave for days or weeks at a time, but he always returned to the druidess. The Elf seemed not to age, as is natural for his kind, and Haethan did not either, thanks to the power of nature. But despite her appearance, she was human, and her time would eventually run out.

Years after they first met, Haethan became pregnant. She gave birth to a son, Gelthan.

 

Early Life

 

The boy grew strong at Long Lake, living with his mother and learning the ways of nature. He learned to listen to forests, lakes, and the wind. Animals were his friends, and the wooded lakeshore his playground. He learned the power of nature, and how to harness it. And he grew especially close to a wolf pup that his mother rescued one winter from a trap – he named the wolf Nariz, and the two became constant companions.

His father visited often, and when the boy grew old enough, would sometimes take Gelthan on visits to towns and cities. From Gelarad he learned to dance, to move quickly and quietly through a town, and to open any stubborn locks that might bar his way. His father’s life was carefree, and these outings woke the boy’s own desire to roam.

Gelthan learned much from both his parents, but it was his mother’s love of nature that was closest to the boy’s heart. The wanderlust inherited from his father could not be denied, though. By the age of twenty, Gelthan had taken to going on journeys with only Nariz for a companion. But unlike his father, he did not journey to cities and other habitations of men. Instead he journeyed to the most beautiful wilderness areas, meeting many other druids and other nature lovers in the process.

Occasionally he would learn of some encroachment on the natural world, usually from a nearby city. Perhaps a forest was being destroyed for its wood, or a stream polluted. At these times, Gelthan would leave the natural world and put to use the skills his father had taught him, to discourage the defilement. Sometimes he would simply steal from those profiting from the destruction of natural beauty. Other times he would threaten violence to force the perpetrators to stop. Rarely, actual violence was necessary – but normally, a voice from the shadows and the threat of a large wolf were enough.

 

The Adventure Begins

 

TBD – need details from DM.

 

Last updated 01-19-2006 by Skip Franklin