Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality Traits: I work hard so I can play hard when the work is done.
Ideals: The sea is freedom, freedom to go anywhere, do anything, and be the man I want to be.
Flaws: I never can say no to a pretty face.
Backstory: Kitiri Bayran'chaan was a lethilee in service to a great lord. Some decades ago, her lord entertained a human noble, and Kitiri was among the guards given responsiblity for the security of his retinue.
There was a sabotage attempt to the peace accords, and before the violence was done Kitiri found herself far from home wiht only her unicorn, her blade, and the human lad she'd been charged with protecitng for company.
She's never told me who he was. He might have been a prince. He might have been an ambasador's aid, but Kitiri was allready fond of him ins pite of herself, and during their time together on the road she surendered to his passions more than once.
I was born nine months later.
I've always wondered who my father was. Mother doesn't talk about him, but he always makes her smile. He's probably an old man by now if he still lives. As a boy I spent a lot of time daydreaming about him. Up til my twenty-eigth year, I could usualy find friends among the elves. After out growing three sets of playmtes, though, I couldn't hide my diferences from myself, and my new peers and quite thorougly caught onto their parent's distste.
The things that adults whispered behind cupped hands the children sang out lowdly and with cruel glee. Half-man, they called me. Bastard. Short-ear. Cheek fuzz. (I never did develop a beard. Might have been nice to try.)
I dreamed a lot more about my father then. I was starting to notice girls, and my father went from romnatic hero in my mind to dashing casanova. I also started paying attention too stories about the man who'd managed to cuckold the king of the elven gods. The stories of Abadon seducing Salinha’laan and Daylin’vaas resulting wrath made me grin. In a quite, petty portion of my mind, I would whisiper, "Well, if Daylin'vaas would get the stick out of his ass and satisfy his wife..."
As I grew more mature, I started to get a better handle on my station in elven society. Despite our free whieelign ways, we were all more than a little locked in place by our birth. Mother would wield that sword for her lord 'til her death or retirement. I would scrimp around the nobility, not one of them, but not a freeman either. I would probably find some positon as a scribe, herald, or servant.
Never one to brood, I decided not to run away from home. I learned all I could, worked hard, and played hard 'til I came of age at forty. In the last half decade of my youth, I learned some of the joy Abadar had found in an elfmaid's arms. Any number of arogant noble girl's could be persuaded that the best way to get bck at their philandering baues was to enjoy a night of passion in the arms of a half man. I got pounded for it more than once, but it was owrth every blow. I also got stronger, tougher, faster. I learned that by playing on the men's pride, I could get them to ahve their friend's let me up and face me one at a time. When that happened i would usualy win. And then there weret he times that ti didn't help. That was hwen I learned that if I ran just long enough, my attacker's would string out behind me and I could pause long enough to lay one out before the tohers caught up and i had to run again.
The day after my fortieth birthday, though, I made a beeline for the ocean and went too sea. For seven years, I woked the sails, saw distant lands, flirted with mermaids and foriegn wenches. I learned more of Abadar from a half-merman crewmate, and in a temple of coral, I swore to do his work and first received his magic. It was also there that I recieved an eleven blade--a weapon normaly reserved for people like my mother--with a blade of folded steel and a hilt of mother of pearl.
--Sling with 20 bullets
--50 feet of silk rope,
--a lucky charm (piece of pink coral sugestive in form of the tree I grew up in.)