Origin Story

The Feywild is a majestic realm filled with vibrant colours, mysterious creatures and ever-changing seasons; and 7 years ago, it was my home. For 31 years I lived among my people the eladrin, ancient elves whose personalities are as changeable as the seasons, in the most beautiful world imaginable. I spent my days travelling through the rich landscapes, listening to the trees as they sighed, usually accompanied by my childhood friend, Koralyn. She and I were raised together, and were nigh inseparable.
 
One day, while wandering in our usual way, we stumbled upon a strange occurrence - a pool of water, one that we had seen most every day, but this time I noticed something strange. Instead of the water’s surface reflecting the tree’s canopy above, it was reflecting a whole other sky - grey clouds, and no greenery in sight. Ever curious, I reached out my hand, and before I knew it, I could hear Koralyn’s voice behind me crying out as I lost my footing and tumbled forward into the water.
 
When I woke up, it was like one of my senses had been closed off to me. The world seemed less vibrant and I could no longer hear the breeze singing to me, or sense the emotions of the people around me. I was suddenly surrounded by folk who looked like me, but were not like me - I quickly surmised I had landed in the Material Plane, and these strangers were the elves who had fled from the Feywild millennia ago. I spent several months among the elves of Amra’s Garden, all the while trying to find the entrance to my home realm. My efforts remained fruitless, and my demeanor began to shift from the elated spring season of my youth, to a furious summer.
 
I began to spend my days in a cycle of aggression - sparring with other elves to try to find some outlet for my newfound anger, but no matter who I fought with, I could not quell the unease that sat in my chest. In the breaks between sparring matches, I would overhear the conversations going on around me, and I would hear many people speaking of the beauty of the ocean, how it was tumultuous and chaotic, and I harbored hope that it would fill the hole that the Feywild had left. So, I gathered what few belongings I had and travelled to the coast.
 
When I reached the sea, I arranged passage to the continent of Osril, and boarded a ship. As I stood on the deck and watched the docks disappear, I tried to embrace the ocean, but the chaos was violent, and the endlessness of the open ocean made me feel more alone than ever. I spent the journey across the seas below decks, and when I emerged, the fiery red hair and tanned skin of my recent summer had given way to pale skin and icy white hair, marking my transition into a cold, unflinching winter.
 
Upon reaching the shores of Osril, I decided to delve into a new purpose - I was determined to find the answers to what had happened to my home and if I could not find a way back, then I would create one myself. I travelled between cities, spending days in every library, every temple, every place possible that might hold some knowledge of the planes and the magics necessary to unlock their secrets. I have studied with mages, spoken with godly men and even delved into dangerous places to uncover lost secrets. Though I have become an accomplished spellcaster in the last 7 years, nothing I have found has gotten me any closer to uncovering the secret of my home.
 
Now, I have decided to travel to Arcadia, the bizarre bastion of civilisation above Fiorrn, in search of Aldwyn Silverbrace, a supposed expert on the Feywilds sister plane, the Shadowfell, to find out if that plane has been similarly affected. Part of me remains hopeful that he will hold some knowledge that will help me, but in truth, my expectations are running thin, and my heart simply longs for adventure to distract me from my sorrow, and to help me see some wonder in this mundane land.