Fenmarel Mestarine

The Lone Wolf

If Erevan Ilesere's the fun-loving impulse in elf society, Fenmarel's the outcast, the loner who can't stand the company of other powers. He's sullen and serious, a perfect counterbalance to Erevan. Fenmarel willfully withdraws to his realm on Limbo, and like-minded elves flock to his side (though "flock” ain't the right word; they really straggle to his side) He teaches these elves how to spy, survive on their own, enage in deceptions and guerilla tactics, and use poisons to take down enemies with subtlety. Chant is that Fenmarel was Lolth’s lover, one of the first to be seduced by her power and her promises. But he turned away from her before completely slipping over to the dark side, and she's never forgiven him for that. Neither has Fenmarel forgiven Lolth for the breach of faith with the elvish race, and thus he hates the drow and all they stand for. No drow are tolerated in his realm, Fennimar — not even those of good alignment. Nestled away in the soup of Limbo, Fennimar's the perect retreat for a basher who's gotten sick of the hubbub and stink of civilization. The realm, tucked into in a rough range of mountains, holds its shape well; a body who walks its forsaken woods can count on finding glades and streams, hills and valleys, sullen hermits and wild creatures of the forest. But Fennimar's a place that lets a visitor sit and brood in silence. Truth is, the realm seems to protect those who've come to be alone from prying eyes and wandering feet. The land has no real burgs or buildings, only waystations where a berk can find food and water (If he can't find them on his own). Apart from Avery Arrinson, Fenmarel keeps a few other proxies — rangers, mostly — in the realm to keep the peace. But few are ever spotted by mortal eyes. See, Fenmarel's given his agents the power to remain hidden in any sort of underbrush. As long as they pick a spot and don’t move from it, they've got a per fect hiding place. Even animals can't see or smell them.