Character Submission - Gel'larian Windsbreath

[gilshem ironstone]

Name: Gel'larian Windsbreath
Age: 98
Classes: Bard 10/Ranger 10
Str:12(10) Dex:15 Con:10 Int:12(14) Wis:12 Cha:15
Race: Elf
Sub-Race: Gray Elf
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Deity: Ilsare
Special Request: Bird Speak Ear, Dwarven Ear
Bio/Description: Born in 1288 in a small gray-elf village in the Berhagen mountains to a lower-class family. My mother was a cloth-weaver and my father was a household wizard; meaning that he had skill with magic but his ability was limited to minor cantrips used to run households. My father longed for me to rise above my station and I shared his ambitions. My childhood was relatively peaceful, learning swordplay, archery and gaining the fundamental education in natural and arcane arts, as all elves do. When the time came for me to gain entrance to the magic academy I was accepted and my family was elated. It soon became clear, however, that my teachers held me in the same regard as my father, which was not high. They constantly belittled my intelligence and my ability, which provoked me to butt heads, and to constantly find ways to defy my teachers. To my parents shame, I was eventually expelled from the academy for an unfortuante situation involving the head master's pipe and a stinking clooud scroll I had "procured". My parents were so aghast that they dis-owned me and seeing no other recourse, I ran away from home. I lived for a year within the sights of village, slipping in to town and stealing supplies. I thought I hated my home, until I saw the dwarven warband marching upon the village in full regalia. The band of dwarves ransacked my village leaving no one men alive, and when I went to seek revenge upon them, they took pity upon a young elfling and took me prisoner.

For crimes against dwarfdom, I was sentenced to twenty years as an indentured worker in their new fortress, after which time my case would be reviewed. I was not treated poorly, as I had expected, except for the occasional beating by a dwarf youth. It was because of one of these beatings that my firsy friend, Glack Stoutforge, and I met. He was a senior smith in the fortress and took pity on me, driving off the youths and suing the court to take responsibility for my sentence. Due to his standing, his request was granted. At first I did not trust Glack as he was one of the clan that had killed the men of my village, but he showed me that both sides had committed atrocitites on each other throughout history and to forgive both peoples for their short-sightedness. He asked me to help him create a bridge of friendship between our peoples, that we may set an example for both our kindred. I agreed and our friendship grew from there. He taught me the dwarven language, as I taught him elven, he taught me the art of weaponsmithing, and I taught him of the arcane arts. Together we began to show his people that we need not fear and hate one another for history's sake, but that temperance and open-mindedness should rule all. Those twenty years passed quickly and as the time for my review approached, I began to feel a longing in my heart to see the outside world. My review ended with me being granted the title of dwarf-friend, so great was mine and Glack's impact on the community. Glack asked me to stay and take over his smithy when he died and with a heavy heart I refused, explaining that I was still an elfling and needed to see the world. The dwarves that I consider my family sent me on my way with provisions and made me promise to return when I had had enough of the outside world.

I then struck-out north towards the main part of Mistone and eventually came to the fringes of the Dire Wood. I had heard rumour of great magics within this forest and that was enough to spark my spirit. I was enchanted just by the majesty of the trees, which I had never really experienced before. But when I passed within that strange forests eaves I fell under a much more perilous enchantment, the source of which I have never discovered. It began as a drowsiness that persisted long after I awoke but eventually, I would have periods of blacking-out and would awake to find myself miles from where I last remembered, sometimes with blood beneath my nails. It was after one bout of this that I met Larina Hawksblood. I had been making one of my many efforts to reach the northern end of the wood when I blacked-out. I had a strange vision of being mauled by black shapes until a lightning bolt threw them asunder. When I came to there was not a tree in sight for many miles. I was on an open plain with bandages over my arms and a dressing just above my heart. Staring down at me was a vision of beauty, Larina! Long honey-coloured hair, skin golden from a life under the sun, well-muscled and a vibrant presence. Not thinking, I told her that I loved her. She said, "The Archer of Love has deemed it so, for I loved you when I saw how fiercely you fought the gnolls from which I saved you and whom have given you such excquisite scars."

From there Larina and I were inseparable. She was a devout follower of Ilsare and sang every night to her beauty. Through Larina I discovered my own musical talent, both of singing and playing the harp, which Larina carried everywhere. I became doubly excited as I learned to pore my magic talents in to my music. Household wizard indeed! I wonder what else I could use my magic for? Larina awakened a side of me I never knew before. As a wild-elf she taught me much about nature: how to speak with birds, how to move noiselessly and how to read the signs of my surroundings. I became passionate about nature and we began to compose ballads and poems any sight of beauty that inspired us. But it was not to last. My bliss was shattered one night when while camping we were beset by a band of orcs. We had been making-love when Larina jumped up and immediately grabbed her bow, I did the same and next thing we knew there were a hundred orcs poring out of the tree cover! Larina was slain and I was forced to flee. I returned hours later to find her broken corpse clinging to life. With her dying words Larina begged me to let Ilsare find another to love me as she had and promised that she would return to me one day.

Despairing I fled to the nearby Sielwood and vowed to live alone. There I lived for ten long years. One morning, I awoke to find a hawk perched on my feet. I asked it what took it so far from home and all it said was: "Remember the words of the hawkblood". My heart broke with anguish as I finally said goodbye to my love. I resolved that I would go back in to the world and find new beauty to sing praises to and Ilsare permitting, new hearts to love.

Descrition: Pale-skinned, with steely-black hair, well-muscled for a gray elf, but not physically imposing. His left earlobe is missing, and he has a number of scars on my arms, from gnoll claws. His scars are tatooed with red-ink and also bears a tatoo of a hawk on his heart.

Gel'larian is an eternal optimist when it comes to most matters in life ... except love. Whenever asked to speak his feelings there is continually a tinge of sadness in his voice. Strange for a worshipper of the Archer of Love. He more than makes up for this melancholy with an exhuberant aprreciation of everything from a fine sunrise, to a muddy puddle. He loves magic in all its forms, but especially those that subvert the status quo of wizardly learning. He generally has a coolness towards wizards that stems from jealousy and his past experiences with magic teachers. For a gray-elf his tolerance of other species is remarkable and even seems to be a bit of a dwarfophile. He is passionate at finding new muses, archery as well as non-traditional magic practices.

[Leanthar]

Good bio. Approved for the dwarf ear, we do not have a bird ear.

[approve]