Lorinthor Hathem

Lorinthor is an Evoker Mage who is trying to learn about the world and make a name for himself. He is quite tall at nearly six feet but as with most elves he is slender and slight. His light brown hair hangs loosely around his shoulders as his golden eyes sparkle with the enthusiasm of a young man. He dresses very well in expensive breaches and shirts that are immaculately kept. The gold trim on his clothes makes no attempt to hide that he is not only well dressed but at great expense also, all of his clothes have a symbolic falcon etched onto the buckles and straps. On his belt reside two curved daggers and a fine ornate Longsword. The hilt is made to look like two roots spiralling up and entwined into a loop at the pommel. Never far from his hand is a Darkwood bow with intricate silver markings upon its shaft. Everything about him is pristine maybe too much so for an adventurer.

Born to a noble Elven family in an idyllic but isolationist tribe, Lorinthor was put to studying magic from an early age, he was smart and took to his studies well. Devouring knowledge with an insatiable appetite. His family, a well regarded and very conservative line of nobles were keen that Lorinthor should study magic and become a council member like his Father before him. In a world where nothing changes Lorinthor’s life had been planned.

Lorinthor always had a curious wild edge that didn’t sit well either with his family or the Arch Mages he was studying under. Lorinthor enjoyed his studies but often wondered if there was more to life then being lost in books. At times he only felt truly free hunting with his younger brother. He would take the family bow out into the woods and practice whenever time permitted. The bow was an exquisite example of Darkwood craftsmanship and had been given Lorinthor on gaining his apprenticeship with such a prestigious teacher. It had belonged to his Great Grandfather who was also a Mage and an archer of repute.

It was one day while studying the history of his family that he discovered that they had not always been so insular but that in generations previous they had been brave explorers and adventurers, this being Elven generations that was a millennia ago now, and it was the wealth and power they got from adventuring that secured the family position. Lorinthor’s Great Grandfather for whom
he was named after had lead a contingent of Elven rangers in the war against the Whispering Tyrant, he had fought in Gallows Spire to imprison the evil lich.

For Lorinthor this explained what he always felt and why he had bonded with the family bow so deeply. He knew that the world was calling him and that he needed to see what it had to say. He had made up his mind. He would adventure like his forefathers before him, the only problem was he was far too young and inexperienced to be allowed out on his own.

So one night he wrote his father a note packed up his belongings and the bow and set out to Ustalav to follow in his Great Grandfathers footsteps.

Dearest Father

A son could not be more grateful of the life you have given me, yet we face a great threat that must be tackled. In our woodland paradise we have become stale. Our Rangers are so efficient at dealing with threats to us that we never truly stretch ourselves, never really spread our wings, never reach our true potential. You are a great man and who has helped maintain a wonderful society but we lack heroes, we lack the dynamism to deal with a real threat because we have been too comfortable for too long.

I know you feel it is dangerous for me to journey forth into the wider world but I feel it is more dangerous for us to stay isolated. One day something will disturb us that is more powerful than wandering Orcs and if we have no heroes we shall become a footnote in the history books you had me study.

It has been more than four hundred years since outsiders last visited our home, in my life I’ve not seen more than a picture of a human. I’ve studied their culture and languages but never tasted their mead. Our society holds great magic and power yet we do nothing with it to help the world. We only store it and study it.

So Father I go forth in your name so that when the time comes I may also help our people as you have. That I may one day be the hero our people need and deserve. Please do not be angry with me for I only seek to use what you have taught me for good.

Your son,

Lorinthor

Lorinthor is very young by Elven standards and far too naive to be out in the world but he wants adventure and fun yet he doesn’t realise the horrors that and pain adventuring can bring. He is wide eyed and looking for friends and adventure, he’ll follow the winds of fate where they blow him. But will he return the optimist he once was?

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