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Taelarn
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History
Born into the structured and ambitious world of New Ta’Faendryl, Taelarn Eilindel Faendryl was never meant to stray from the path his family had set for him. His father, Maltreis Faendryl, was a successful merchant—wealthy enough to command respect, but not of sorcerous lineage. In Faendryl society, power was everything, and to ascend, one had to master sorcery, politics, or war. Maltreis saw in his sons the potential to elevate the family name. If Taelarn became a great sorcerer, their house would gain favor, their influence would grow, and Maltreis would finally have a legacy worth remembering.
Taelarn, however, had other dreams.
The Bard Who Walks With Death
While his tutors droned on about necromantic principles and the summoning of demons, Taelarn found his mind wandering to rhythms and melodies, the poetry of the past, and the weight of forgotten histories. Sorcery had its power, but music held something deeper—a force that reached into the soul. While other Faendryl saw music as mere ornamentation, Taelarn saw it as a means of expression, a weapon of sorrow and remembrance.
It was through his studies of history and song that he first learned of Gosaena, the Arkati of Death, Fate, and the Eternal Balance. Unlike other gods, she offered neither comfort nor warmth—only certainty. To Taelarn, her presence in the world was not cruel but inevitable, and the songs that mourned the dead spoke of something greater than mere loss. He found himself drawn to the path of a Dirge, a bard whose music walked the boundary between life and death, honoring the fallen and preparing the living for what was to come.
When his father learned of his decision to forsake sorcery for music, there was fury. Maltreis raged at his son’s defiance, calling him a disgrace, a squandered talent, a disappointment to their name. Taelarn stood firm. He would never be the sorcerer his father wanted, nor would he pretend to be.
The next day, he packed his things and left New Ta’Faendryl behind.
The Journey to Wehnimer’s Landing
Taelarn’s travels led him across Elanthia, from the grand halls of Ta’Illistim to the harsh deserts of the Southron Wastes. He sought out forgotten songs and lost histories, his voice carrying the sorrow of fallen warriors, forsaken lovers, and kingdoms lost to time. Along the way, he honed not only his music but his skill with the blade and fist—for a Dirge’s duty is not only to sing of death but to stand in its presence without fear.
His path eventually brought him to Wehnimer’s Landing, a place of both chaos and opportunity, where cultures clashed, and fates were shaped by steel and sorcery alike. It was there that he met Yhtrinn, a Faendryl sorcerer of both skill and intellect. At first, they were merely curious about one another, drawn together as two Faendryl outsiders in a foreign land. But as time passed, curiosity deepened into something more.
Taelarn had always believed love to be a fleeting thing—beautiful, yet ultimately bound for loss, like all things in time. And yet, with Yhtrinn, he felt something unshaken by fate’s cold grasp. Perhaps not all things were meant to be mourned.
The Dream of the Palestra
Though Taelarn had forsaken sorcery, he had not forsaken his heritage. Among the Faendryl elite, there were the Palestra, warrior-scholars trained to guard summoners and stand against the creatures of the valences. They were swords against the unknown, protectors of those who wielded the darkest of magics.
For the first time in his life, Taelarn found a purpose beyond music.
He would become a Palestra—not for his father’s ambition, nor for the approval of Faendryl society, but for Yhtrinn. If fate would one day call his love into battle, then Taelarn would stand at his side, blade in hand, ready to face whatever horrors the valences could conjure.
To achieve this, he would need to grow stronger. His training in combat had begun long ago, but he would need discipline, skill, and the approval of those who still saw him as an outsider.
And so, his journey continues—a bard who sings of death, determined to carve a future that even fate cannot take from him.
Appearance
You see Taelarn Eilindel Faendryl the Rake. He appears to be a Dark Elf. He is tall. He appears to be mature. He has hooded crystal green eyes and ebon skin. He has shoulder length, flowing deep red hair with a white streak running through it. He has a delicate face, a classical nose and a jagged scar below his right eye. His lineaments are thin and wiry, all especially accented by the hollowed set of his cheekbones. He has a tattoo of a grey robed skull-faced woman with white feathered wings clutching a silver scythe, a curved pale vaalin spike in his left eyebrow, a trio of twisted silver rings in his lip, and a tiny pave diamond stud in the upper ridge of his right ear. He is in good shape. He is holding a misty silver slash-fist surrounded by deathly green energy in his right hand. He is wearing a glacial white smooth glaes armband, an etched dragonstalk pomander on a thin vaalin chain, a crow black suede neckerchief, a dark weathered duster with tattered sleeves, a pale crystal theorbo pin, a Brigatta unicorn pin, an onyx-eyed silver pin worked into the image of an aishan, a sphere encased silver scythe, a two-headed serpent symbol wrapped around a crimson blazestar, a rich ebon silk shirt, a suit of myrtle and argent vultite augmented chainmail, a despanal-eyed armband, a dark-grained glossy koa bracelet set with a large tawny sorrel crystal, some stygian leather gloves pierced by kelyn thorns, a diamond-set infinity band encircling a smaller ora ring, a supple black utility kit with a silver-set heliodor clasp, an emboidered silk instrument case with a circular latch, a hare's foot talisman, a pair of black suede trousers with crimson pinstripes, and some pebbled eahnor leather boots with a trio of drakar buckles.