A Land Far Away

A tall, lithe sun elf is often seen recently making the rounds of numerous locations throughout Silverymoon looking for information, beginning with the most obvious place: the Vault of Sages.

"Vampires, things related to undead or undeath, and also ... Bladesingers,"

Seeing mostly (many?) raised eyebrows and puzzled expressions in response to his last query, Arathil chuckles amiably and explains patiently, though with determination in his voice.

"Silverymoon has been called a sister city of Myth Drannor, has it not? Surely there is some knowledge of them among you... Elven warriors, versed in the art of blending swordsmanship and the arcane arts in a manner distinctive of Tel'Quessir. Deadly and graceful, the pinnacle of the ancient tradition of elven spellblades. Have you any information at all on them, or on the art of the Bladesong... or..." he pauses, and adds hesitently. "Or where one might find a known Bladesinger in the Silver Marches?"


He gathers as much information as he can find (will roll if necessary, though aside from CHA bonus +1 he obviously has no ranks in Gather Knowledge, though his Lore is 9, some of it reflecting knowledge:local/silver marches), then asks for permission to browse the shelves that hold material on the above three subjects, especially on elven history and culture, proceeding to devour the texts made available to him in search of new information for half the day.

As the sun sets he departs with a promise to return tomorrow, and continues on to proceed to every watering hole generally known in Silverymoon, stopping at each one and ONLY ASKING ABOUT BLADESINGERS (not vamps and undead). Here his method also is different, leaving several gold coins with his requests that the staff keep their ears open, and to spread word about an elf seeking the above information.

"My name is Arathil Eskalas, and I am quartered at the Lady's College's dormatory," he states as he enjoys (or in some cases endures) the tavern's choicest wine. "I've no doubt that if any of the staff of this excellent establishment comes across such information, I will somehow be informed shortly."

He departs shortly after finishing his wine, pausing briefly to gather his thoughts before heading back to his room to complete his studies and workouts for the day.

"Such an obvious place to inquire about the information I need," Arathil mused. "Such an obvious place, and yet..."

The temple to the Seldarine.

Perhaps lingering fears held him back? Lingering fears of rejection, denial, perhaps even scorn from the clergy of the Seldarine. The priest he spoke to seemed kind enough, but Arathil knew as well as any that the calm and placid demeanor of older elves could sometimes comfortably exist alongside less gracious emotions and attitudes held in check underneath the surface. He remembered vividly his only return visit to Evermeet after his family left the Isle for Waterdeep. It was a pleasant, nay, a dreamlike time that refreshed his parched elven soul, filled with wonder and rememberance, rejoicing in reconnecting with who he was, but cut short by an unexpected bitter event.

He still remembered the stinging words spoken by several of the elder sun elves of House Durothil, though they were not meant to be malicious.

"That one has lived among the N'Tel'Quessir for too long. He even smells like them," "It cannot be helped; he is young and foolish - what do you expect? Blame his father and mother, not the youth,"

And the words that stung him the most, spoken by a particularly arrogant elder Sun Elf, "He is no proper Ar'Tel'Quessir... feh... hardly fit for a Teu'Tel'Quessir,"

That last remark had stirred a deep anger within that got the better of him, moving him to retort before he could check himself.

"Perhaps so, but I've known N'Tel'Quessir whose company I would prefer to that of some Sun Elves whose petty arrogance stink worse than dwarven *****."

The fact that he chose a synonym for the backside widely considered the most vulgar variant in their speech did not help, drawing silent chuckles from many and muffled laughter from a few younger elves. His next outburst did not amuse anyone however, for it pricked at the secret shame that many Sun elves of the Isle nursed deep within, naming the sun elven betrayers responsible for the disasters recently visited on Everdeep.

"I would by far prefer their company to that of Kymil Nimesin and his ilk."

He had ended his 'homecoming' visit prematurely after that incident, his heart turned away somewhat from the Isle and rather to the east, towards places like the ruins of Myth Drannor, the City of Song where once elves dwelt in peace with other races, and similar places like... Silverymoon.

His thoughts returned to the present, the priest at Everdusk temple. Priests of the Seldarine could see many things beyond the obvious about an elf; though Arathil had never spoken in depth about his background, he did not doubt that the priest might already know much about him. What if he too, judged the young elf for the decades spent living in Waterdeep and adapting, even learning from non elves? What if... he could almost imagine the quiet, dreaded words... "Bladesinger? Only the most worthy elves should query about such things, young Arathil."

Arathil winced unconsciously.

And yet, this was Silverymoon after all; the enlightened city, the sister city of Myth Drannor; even the patrons and staff of the dwarven tavern were not too unkind to his strange query about 'pansy elf warriors that let spells do their fightin fur dem', though many had given him befuddled stares and made a few jokes at his expense.

"I... will not make the same kind of mistake that those elders made, judging quickly based on the company one keeps, or by assumptions based on simplistic generalization." Arathil concluded. "If the priest will help me, he will help me, if not, then so be it, but I will not assume the worst."

With determined yet measured steps, the elf began to make his way to the northeast parts of the city.

((Any dm's interested in a response to the above, especially the visit to the priest at Everdusk? He's supposed to be a loremaster when it comes to elven lore according to the guy who helped build the temple. Even if it's something along the lines of 'Come back later young padawon, and perhaps I can tell you more' or 'go kiss an orc, jackass' it'd be nice to have some kind of response ))

Arathil has begun to spend more and more of his rather infrequent free time in the Heartsong Harps, eagerly waiting to find out if there are live performances and occasionally examining the exotic instruments admiringly. He sometimes brings his lute with him, but rarely lets it be known that he has one.

If someone realizes that he has his lute with him, he simply chuckles when asked about it.

"Nay, I am but a simple elf who has long ago dismissed thoughts or aspirations of becoming a true minstrel. My talents and pursuits lie elsewhere, though my heart will always be inclined towards the nobler arts. I might take up a song, verse or such occasionally among friends, but here I'd prefer to watch and listen to the professionals do their thing."