Appearance

Mentality

Personal history

Eleric Mandrake, that infuriating gnomish sorcerer, was a snake. At least, that is how I know him. Others of his day may have regarded him differently; a perfect gentleman, a dazzling magician, an entrancing entertainer. That last bit would be the work of Mandrake’s lute, an elvencraft instrument that sang as sweetly and purely as if the very fingers of the celestials were plucking the strings. Knowing his competitors would like nothing more than to steal is for their own, Mandrake placed an enchantment on the instrument that barred anyone but the sorcerer himself from playing it. Time passed and, though some sorcerers would have you believe they live forever, Mandrake died. Many claim it was at the hand of a baroness whose husband was seduced by the sorcerer, but that is just tavern talk.
 
Nearly two centuries later, the legend of the sorcerer bard passed out of memory, but the enchantment remained. The lute came into the possession of an elven lord, Taur’amoren, where it remained untouched. And it is here I make my entrance. I am Caelwin, half-elven disappointment- I MEAN daughter of the great lord Taur’amoren. I’m not certain why my father was surprised when I came out half-human. He’s the one that chose my mother, after all. Regardless, I came from the womb only half the daughter he wanted me to be and I have been losing ground ever since. I have no talent for the songs of the elves, nor the athletic fortitude of a commoner. I have recently developed a penchant for illusionary magic, but even that has not drawn the attention of my father. I cannot complain but so forcefully. I want for nothing, I consort with the most powerful men and women of the realm, and I have a marked impunity as a result of my royal status. So, what possessed me to break into my father’s treasury, steal Mandrake's Lute, and spend twelve hours locked in my room learning to play the damned thing? Dannyd’s Day: the three-day long festival where the lords of the land come to play show and tell with their heirs. So, acknowledging that I bring literally nothing to the table, I decided to do what my honorable father would have advised me to do: lie, cheat and steal to make it work.
 
Three years later, I am changed. The night I plucked the lute’s strings, I lost myself. Mandrake’s enchantment was still as strong as the day it was woven into the very woodwork of the instrument. Mandrakes soul was alive and well, and it was not to be parted from the sorcerer's prize possession. The longer I played, the stronger the pull of the restless soul grew, until I noticed changes in myself that I could not ignore. My voice became darker, spilling ancient incantations I had never learned. I shrank three inches and my silver hair transformed into a straggly red mess and all this in addition to other physiological changes I won’t mention in polite company.
 
It was only a matter of time before my father, as uninvolved with me as he was, began to notice the changes as well, and like any loving parent would do, he banished me from his realm. I was a pariah, you see; the result of foolish and childish mistakes that he would not bear to see flaunted before the entire court. So now, I wander. I make my bread and beer at the taverns with the music that now comes so naturally to my tongue and fingers. The life I live is not an abysmal one. I enjoy the finer things: a good joke or story, a long night with the friends I make from town to town, or simply the quiet peace of a lonely journey through the woods. But ever I wander, searching for any sign of hope, any small clue on how to lift this curse and return to my true self. But the rub, I fear, is that it may be too late to even remember who that person was.

Failures & Embarrassments

I hide a truly scandalous secret that could ruin my family forever.

Morality & Philosophy

Despite my noble birth, I do not place myself above other folk. We all have the same blood.

Known Languages

Common, Elvish, Sylvan, Halfling

Personality

Motivation

Independence: I must prove that I can handle myself without the coddling of my family. (Chaotic)

Vices & Personality flaws

If you do me an injury, I will crush you, ruin your name, and salt your fields.

Social

Birthplace

Fields of Autumn