Mysteries of the Moonsea
Half Elven Mage
When one thinks of the City of Song, the wonders of eladrin civilization, magic, and craftsmanship often come to mind. While all true, Myth Drannor was more complicated for Draelyn Narethsyr. Born in the year of The Hidden Harp, his upbringing was bitter sweet.
Despite being the son of Tylana Narethsyr renowned bladesinger, Draelyn grew up isolated from his kind. While he knew hardly anything about his father, he learned the bitter reality of his mixed heritage. While no one was ever outwardly cruel or rude, people kept their distance. He was viewed with pity and shame as a result of the tainted human blood that coursed through his veins.
He was never successful in learning much about his father. All his mother would tell him was that his father had a gift for the art. Their paths once crossed and they shared the same goal. Despite his charm and best intentions, he had already chosen a darker path that she could not follow. Drealyn always wondered how much of that man he resembled. It didn’t take him long to become aware of the differences from his kin. Draelyn was larger than most elves; broader in chest as well. His jaw was more squared and he could never help but rub his considerably rounder ears when he would become frustrated. Perhaps the most unique, Draelyn was born hetero chromatic. He shared one eye color with each parent; green and blue.
Growing up without friends, Draelyn channeled his frustrations in other ways. He was determined to focus his efforts in areas he could control. As a result, he spent much of his free time in the libraries. He would fill his days reading about far off lands and their many philosophies; Including many tomes that were both frowned upon as well as difficult to acquire. Draelyn was not one to be told what he could or could not do. He quickly developed a fascination for both the art of creation and alteration. He was determined to teach himself magic. Unfortunately, no matter how dedicated, nor how much he committed to memory, he was not even able to reproduce the minor cantrips.
One late night while pouring through a heavy stack of tomes, Draelyn met an elderly gnome named Ranzo Punwicket. Through long conversation, they recognized their shared mischievous streaks, and the two quickly became friends. Other than his mother and older brother there were very few people able to looks past his human blood. Ranzo couldn’t help but chuckle, fully understanding. He assured him that there was a large world outside these walls with many a different people. Excited to hear more tales of the outside world, Draelyn promised to return the next night to continue where they had left off.
One night turned into two. Two nights turned into four. As the tendays passed, the young half elf finally felt he had met someone who understood him. Eventually Draelyn confessed his frustration at his failed attempts to cast spells. It was then that Ranzo helped him locate a strand of the Weave. Chuckling, he explained that anything can be read from a book, but hands on experience is something else entirely. With aid from the bard, Draelyn was finally able to touch the Weave. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. None of the endless tomes he had poured through did justice in describing how it felt. For the first time in many years, Draelyn was fill with renewed hope. This was the one thing in his life where limitations simply didn’t exist.
As time passed, Draelyn’s studies proved fruitful, and he continued to grow. Ranzo would send him out on tasks where he might be able to exercise that which he learned in the library. It was there that he met Nariya. Like him, she also was half human. When the two of them were not working for Ranzo they were often exploring parts of the city that were still considered dangerous and off limits. Many a times causing his brother a headache. He would often tag along for no other reason than reminding them they should be where they were and trying to mitigate the damage they always seemed to cause.