Mysteries of the Moonsea
Daegwyn Loreweaver (Deceased)
Halfling Bard & Rogue
“Ugh, what a headache,” Daegwyn mumbled as he slowly opened his eyes and propped himself up to a seated position. “Where are we? And why are you watching me sleep? That’s kinda creepy lady!”
“Oh, I like this one,” she replied. “He reminds me of….well, me! We’ll get along just fine little one.”
“Ummm…if you say so lady. But you’re still kinda creeping me out, I don’t even know you. But you are cute, so I guess it’s okay! “
“No more than you are handsome. Come, I’ve got a great surprise for you.”
Clamoring out of bed and skipping along after his still unnamed female companion, Daegwyn got a slight itching sensation in the back of his head. Almost like there was something he was supposed to remember. They turned corners, went up – and down – several sets of stairs, through a secret passage (“How neat is that!” Daegwyn thought) and started taking more twists and turns. In the confusion of trying to figure out where they were going Daegwyn forgot to remember what he’d forgotten in the first place!
Finally, they slowed, and she lead him towards an ornately carved oak door at the end of this very long hallway.
“What’s in there?” Daegwyn questioned.
“A choice little one,” was her reply.
Smiling, she gently kissed his forehead, “Where’s the fun and adventure in that? You have to see for yourself silly!” And in the blink of an eye she disappeared.
Finding himself alone in the hallway, Daegwyn pondered what to do while staring up at the massive double doors. “How the heck am I supposed to open these, they’re massive! Where’s Hein-“ And just like that, a spark of remembrance hit the Halfling. Something had happened, but what. It was just out of his grasp. But now he knew something wasn’t quite right. As he walked up to the door, he mumbled under his breath, “Here goes nothing,” and summoned up every ounce of strength in his tiny Halfling body and pushed on the huge door.
Unexpectedly it swung open with incredible force, swinging completely on its hinges and slamming into the stone with a deafening thud. The cacophony of sound that burst through the door when it first cracked open died in an instant and a roomful of patrons snapped their heads in his direction.
Familiar faces greeted Daegwyn, though where he knew them from he could not say until his eyes met those of the singer playing her lute up on the stage. “Mom….” Daegwyn ran up to hug her as the tears welled up in his eyes. “I…I don’t understand. This is the White Hart Inn.”
It was then that the deep baritone of his father piped in behind him, “It’s good to see you again son.”
“Dad? You too? It’s just like when I was growing up! But how? Am I dreaming?”
“No little, not dreaming…” said the mysterious host as she reappeared just as quickly as she had vanished earlier.
“Ddd…dead…I died?!?!” Daegwyn stammered wide eyed.
“Yes my dear, I am truly sorry. I’ve watched you fondly on your adventures. So carefree and unafraid. Always looking for that next adventure. I am Chaldira, the goddess who has watched over you for so long.”
“Wait, so I’m really dead and not dreaming? Are you sure, I’m pretty awesome, I definitely don’t think I would have died. I mean, I have my own sea dragon, and inn, and mountain lion, Rufus” Daegwyn retorted.
“It is so little one, and now you must make your choice. Even as we speak, your companions are seeking out a way to bring you back, to help aid them in their travels. They will find a way, and if you choose you can rejoin them on the mortal realm. You other option is to stay here with me, with your family, on what could be the greatest adventure of all. The choice is yours little one, but choose wisely for once made it cannot be undone” Chaldira warned.
Situated in the heart of Mistledale within the Dalelands, Ashabenford was – and still is – a quaint and quiet town full of friendly farmers and tradesmen. Crime was low, spirits high, and folk went about their days without so much as a worry about the troubles that plagued the rest of the world. All in all it could be considered one of the most serene and tranquil places you’d ever visit; quite perfect for the most human population. Take that same town under those same circumstance for a young halfling, however, and they’ll tell you it sounds downright boring!
Such was the case for young Daegwyn. Orphaned by whom many presume was an unknown traveler, he was found fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket on the doorstep of a nice human couple who had three-year-old twins of their own with a third child well on the way. With no one in sight and no clues as to where the child came from the couple took him in as one of their own.
It was there, in the home of his parents Carrick – a simple, hard-working farmer – and Tyla – a barmaid and singer at the White Hart Inn – that Daegwyn’s life took shape and from that doorway where his path through this world would unfold before him. While it became apparent quite early that Daegwyn wasn’t human but in fact a halfling, it did nothing to lessen the bonds he developed with his “family” as he grew. And as the twins – Ashlynn and Caleb – and his “little” sister Stephania grew taller and stronger Daegwyn turned to stealth and trickery to outwit and outmatch them in order to beat his siblings at the games they played; something he seemed to have a natural affinity for.
As the years passed and his brother and sisters reached adolescence and then adulthood Daegwyn had a difficult time fitting in. Humans, on their truncated timetable, matured much faster and he often felt alone and he struggled to develop along the same curve. Caught somewhere between a human and halfling, Daegwyn turned back to stealth and trickery to pass the time while his siblings were working. Practical jokes became the norm and he would get endless amusement setting up his harmless booby traps and picking peoples pockets before returning the object he swiped from the unknowingly.
By his late-teens Daegwyn had started to mature a bit more, well ahead of the normal curve for halflings, and started thinking about what he wanted to do with his life. Having spoken with some of the handful of other small-folk in Ashabenford he had already realized, though still refused to admit, that he would outlive the rest of family. Taking over the family farm was out of the question as he was too small for the heavy workload, besides his brother Caleb was doing a fine job at that. So he started accompanying his mother into work.
Tyla was getting on in years and had stopped being a barmaid a few years back, but her voice was still silky smooth and golden. Watching her play her lute and sing in front of the inn’s patrons and hearing her recant tale after tales of legends both local and from the farthest reaches of Faerun was mesmerizing to Daegwyn. After sharing this with his mother, she soon began to teach him the lute as well as the songs she sung. And thus began his love affair with performing.
Soon Daegwyn was performing with his mother on stage as well as filling in solo during her breaks and on her nights off. After about six months on the job, Daegwyn’s father fell ill and passed away. Distraught, his mother stopped singing and retreated to the family farm on the outskirts of Ashabenford to grieve. She never came out of it and ended up joining her husband in the great beyond mere months later – an event that became a turning point in Daegwyn’s still young life.
With both parents now gone and his siblings well ahead of him in their life arcs, wanderlust soon hit the halfling. Packing up his belongings , including his mother’s lute, and saying his farewells to his siblings and their families Daegwyn set out to travel the Dales in search of adventure and new songs to sing. It was on these travels that he heard of the mythical “City of Song” formerly known as Cormanthor and now known by the name of Myth Drannor and of it’s recent revival and rebuilding. “What better place to ply my trade than the City of Song?” Daegwyn thought to himself, and so to Myth Drannor he travelled.
There, in the heart of the forest of Cormanthor, Daegwyn crossed paths with one of the most influential people of his life; a retired gnomish adventurer and bard by the name of Ranzo Punwicket who served as a teacher to the young bard showing him songs and chords he’d never heard before. And it was Ranzo who introduced Daegwyn to the volumes of wondrous stories held in the Archives of the Pale Moon as well as some of his other pupils, the half-elves Draelyn and Nariya.