Anthir Faelithion

Anthir Faelithion of Clan Fealefel

Elf scholar on the marches • quiet blade of memory

A pale slim elf little more than 5 feet tall has an air of a scholar with blonde hair and narrow blue eyes, and soaring ears seated at the table by the window with an open book. Wears fine-cut silver and grey robes suitable for town life, but wildly impractical in the wilderness. You notice a sling of vials holstered to his waist. He is sipping from a tall pewter goblet using the window light to read by.

"Pedig edhellen? (do you speak elvish?)
"Saesa omentien lle (please to meet you) I am Anthir of Clan Fealefel. My journey is passing through this place of humans."
"You travel as well? Seek men in cowls and robes?"
"Why do you want to know" "Human slavers and cultist travelers the Nirgh river and the Gnarley. I shall find them"
"Brigand cultist has come into the elven forest and trapped and killed my family. I shall find them."
"No harm ever come to me. One who deals in sorcery has many resorts in defense of selves. Not once and all my travels have I been beset by nefarious fools. Accosted on occasion, yes, but all have turned away when I gifted them wisdom."

Clan & Kin

Clan Fealefel keeps the heartlands of the Gnarley—craftsfolk, makers, and quiet scouts who prize art carried lightly and skill over spectacle. Anthir’s line, the Faelithion, are archivist-artisans: illuminators, herbal alchemists, and lore-guides who accompany scouts to record what steel forgets.

• Mother: Elia Faelithion, herb-scribe and wayfinder; slain near the Nirgh by men in mud-brown cowls.
• Father: Thalan Faelithion, woodwright, missing—last signs point toward the Wild Verge.
• Aunt-mentor: Liriën Fealefel, a renowned artisan-scout of the central glades; she pressed Anthir to take book and blade both, and not to walk alone.
• Clan ties: Courteous with Enlanefel loremasters and Gnarley druids; openly distrustful of human loggers and cultic traffickers moving between the Nirgh and the Wild Verge.

Why he’s in Anshan

Anthir tracks a small human cell that wears tradesmen’s robes by day and cults’ hoods by night—smugglers who use the Nirgh and the marsh skirting roads to move slaves, relics, and reagents. He believes the same crew trapped and killed his family and now barters with marsh-folk and pirates for steel and alchemy salts. Anshan is a waypoint: thin watch, loose talk, and traffic that vanishes into the Fens. He means to learn their route, mark their faces, and end the chain.

“Pedig edhellen? … Saesa omentien lle. I am Anthir of Fealefel. I pass through this place of humans.
You travel as well? Seek men in cowls? Good. Then we are briefly kin of purpose.”

Demeanor

• Manner: Court-polite, careful, listens more than he speaks; prefers questions to boasts.
• Habits: Aligns his goblet with the window-light; lips silently the phonemes of names until they “fit.”
• Beliefs: Violence is a tool with receipts; knowledge first, strike last; the forest remembers what we forget.

Aptitudes

• Scholarship: languages (Elven, Common, Old Flan glyphs), cult symbology, trade routes, potion-lore.
• Alchemy: field tonics (antitoxin, soothing draught, smoke phials, solvent), fire-scarce—he disdains loud solutions.
• Magic (low circle): detect magic, comprehend languages, identify, disguise self, shield, feather fall, detect thoughts (ritualist when time allows).
• Steel: slinger’s aim and a shortblade he’d rather sheathe; +2 to hit on prepared shots from cover.

Gear

Fine-cut gray robes (patched), travel cloak, satchel of journals, reed-wrapped map case, vial-sling (6–10 phials), pewter goblet (old family habit), sling & bullets, slim elven shortblade, three rune-tags that warm when Vecnan sigils are near.

How to play him (at the table)

• Voice: Gentle, measured, a little superior without meaning insult.
• Angle: Offer information trades first, coin second, blades last; he’s not a quest-giver so much as a temporary ally with a parallel hunt.
• Boundaries: Won’t aid slavers or those who threaten forest folk; refuses needless cruelty.

Ties in/near Anshan

• Old Aggy: Mutual respect—trades moss-salves and dreamcap tincture recipes for a peek at her curse-lore notebook.
• Curate Waldere Elvery: Wary courtesy; Anthir shares names and marks when Waldere is sober enough to write.
• Captain Para Roanik: Professional exchange—Anthir offers route sketches and cult marks; expects watch reports in return.
• Bog & Barrel: Uses the window table for light and line of sight; tips in coin and useful gossip.

Adventure hooks

1. The Pewter Trail. Anthir has a scribed sigil that resonated at the collapsed culvert behind the Bog & Barrel—help him follow it to a reed-cache of cult letters.
2. Cowl in the Choir. A stranger at St. Cuthbert’s matches Anthir’s sketch (scar under left eye). He asks the party to watch the evening levy and shadow the man without spooking him.
3. Nirgh Night-Run. Anthir believes a flat-bottomed scow will slip past after moonset with shackled cargo. He needs quiet fighters to take it without fire.

Sample dialogue

• “Pedig edhellen? No? We can still be friends. Truth is a language I’ve heard in every tongue.”
• “You seek men in cowls? So do I. They buy steel and salt with grief.”
• “No harm comes to me easily. Wisdom makes a longer blade than steel; still—I carry both.”
• “A little trust goes far. Use it sparingly, and it may outlive us.”