Erevan Ilesere Pephannas

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Erevan’s mother was a High Elf noble, daughter of a lesser king of a small land who wanted to marry her off to an equally noble, if not higher, Elf in order to gain more land, wealth, and power. He held a feast and gathered some likely bachelors. . . as well as entertainment in the form of a bard half-elf. The bard’s melodies ensnared the princess far greater than did the few princes flimsy attempts of flattery and gift giving.
Whether by spell from the lust hungry bard or just her own naivety, she fell for him, and in the dark of the night they lay in secret, lest her father, or worse, her future husband, find out. Unfortunate for her, she awoke to find that the bard had left as, despite his lavish and passionate words the night before, he felt nothing for her. Just as unfortunate, she found herself pregnant with his child.
Heartbroken, she denied any and all requests for her hand and hid her affair from her father, but she couldn’t for very long as her belly swelled. Her father, enraged, locked her away.
She eventually bore a child in the dead of night and, as she gazed into his eyes, so much like his fathers, the king swept him out of her arms; in a fit of panic, she plead his mercy, for he was not to blame for his own conception.
He was hardly moved, until she finally swore her own death upon the death of the child, to which he finally agreed he would not harm him. Instead, he left the child on the steps of a nearby home, and slipped away.
However, unbeknownst to the king, the residents had been silently slain in their sleep by a crafty halfling rogue. Upon the rogues exit, he saw the swaddled babe and, despite everything, he couldn’t leave the poor child to die. He gave the child the name of his God, as well as a surname meaning “no past”.
For the next years of Erevan’s life, he was brought up on the road and slowly became the rogue’s apprentice; his only source of a father figure, Erevan kept his mother’s naivety and truly believed he was born from the elder rogue though he knew it impossible.
Around when he looked the age of seven, he found a nicely carved wooden flute, which his adoptive father. . . acquired for him. He picked it up quickly to the amazement and appreciation of the rogue, and soon Erevan was playing well known music he had never heard before.
Not long after, Erevan began to notice strange occurrences as he practiced: objects moving, things glowing in the corner of his eyes until he looked at them; not knowing his blood given gift, he thought perhaps the flute had magical properties and, fearing his father might make him toss it, practiced mostly by himself.
Eventually, he found himself playing in a forest near the edge of a long ravine as his father made camp. As he played, he noticed a few animals drawing near and beginning to dance. Captivated by this display, he kept playing, louder and louder, the music and his own mesmerization drowning out his father’s pleas for him to stop. By the time his father’s voice reached his ears, it was too late; after following the path to find Erevan and bring him back to camp, the spell of the song danced the rogue to the edge and, when the music finally stopped, plummeted him to his death.
Burdened with grief and guilt, Erevan swore never to play the flute again, though he keeps it with him, along with his father’s short sword, as a memento.
Ever since the tragic event, Erevan wandered from place to place, never staying for very long, until he found his way to alfheim, where a middle aged widow of the Grunalf clan took pity on him after many of the other wood elves shunned him for his heritage; she gave him a home and warm food in exchange for housework and hunting. He has since more or less integrated into the clan, training among their other hunters and trackers, though he still feels their resentment toward him.

Erevan Ilesere Pephannas

Heart of the God-King grumpybiscuit SilvaLunae