Osmorn

The Protagonist!  

First Person Introduction

The problem with elves is that they live a long time, but they get bored even easier than humans. I was born to the third mistress of a great elf lord, whose name I'm magically forbidden to say. Which means I literally can't tell you my last name. Watch: I'm the son of Lord ██████. See? Funny how that works.   Thanks, Father.   My mother, I'm told, was beautiful, kind, dark haired and graceful. But human. Since she was human she was replaceable. When I was very young she was quietly asked to leave, and to leave me as well. All I know of her is her name: Eleanor.   So I was raised in my father's house, under the eye of his real wife, who knew what and who I was and wasn't fond of me. She wasn't terribly unkind, but she made it clear that whatever I was, I wasn't her son, and I wasn't an Elf.   So I turned my back on my home without too much heartache. Our hometown was fairly understanding of half-elves like myself, so long as we knew our places and stayed in them. So I was able to learn "the performing arts" and I gained some small smirch of honor as a singer and musician.   But it wasn't enough honor to stop me from getting in trouble for falling in love. The story is familiar enough; you've heard it before, but I wasn't a human prince with elven blood, I was an illegitimate child of a local noble, an uncomfortable accident. So there was no honor in my connection to her honorable family. It was easier all around to banish me.   And thus I was enchanted, given my instruments, and asked to please never return, on pain of very sharp arrows.   Ah well. That was all thirty years ago. Since then I've wandered, and sang, and honestly I've found it hard to worry too much about the life I left behind. I gather my former beloved is well married now and has presented her husband with an heir. I wish them well.   As for me, I've found a warmer reception amongst the humans, and I've been everywhere. everywhere. I've tucked myself into halfling burrows and I've sung in the halls of the goliaths. this world is a good one, and for the past fifteen years it's been my job to make it better. You pick up a lot as a bard, far more than I would have as a minor lordling in my home forest.