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Yhtrinn
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History
Family & Origins
Yhtrinn Saelvith Faendryl was born into a lineage of scholars and researchers deeply entrenched in the Clerisy, the vast institution responsible for Faendryl magical research and governance. His parents were esteemed members of the Extrachthonic Cartographers Guild (ECG), the elite division tasked with exploring and documenting the valences—planes beyond the known realms. The ECG was both revered and feared, for while their work advanced Faendryl sorcery to unprecedented heights, its members often did not return from their expeditions.
His father, Yosseth Saelvith Faendryl, was a master cartomancer and planar geomancer, specializing in mapping the distortions of space within the valences. His mother, Aelthara Saelvtih Faendryl, was a sorcerous biologist, focused on studying the native "wildlife" of these realms—creatures that defied mortal understanding. Together, they formed a formidable research team, their names spoken with hushed admiration in the halls of the Clerisy. Yhtrinn grew up in the shadow of their legacy. As the only child of such prodigious researchers, great things were expected of him. His childhood was spent surrounded by ancient tomes, extraplanar specimens suspended in enchanted stasis, and maps depicting impossible landscapes no sane mind could fully comprehend.
The Vanishing
When Yhtrinn was still young—barely past his first century—his parents embarked on what was to be their most ambitious mission yet: a full-scale survey of a newly discovered valence. The details of this plane were shrouded in secrecy, known only to the highest ranks of the Clerisy. What was certain was that it had never before been reached by Faendryl sorcerers, and if it could be charted and harnessed, it could change the course of sorcery itself. They never returned. At first, the Clerisy assumed complications had delayed their mission, a common occurrence with the ECG. Time did not always function the same way across valences, and weeks could pass in one while mere hours elapsed in another. But as months stretched into years with no word, the truth became undeniable. A recovery mission was sent, but no trace of the team or their research was found. The valence remained an enigma, and their disappearance a cold mystery.
Officially, their loss was honored as a tragic but necessary sacrifice in the pursuit of knowledge. Unofficially, there were whispers. Some claimed the valence was never meant to be traversed. Others suggested that something had been waiting for them on the other side—something that did not intend to let them leave. More radical theories proposed that they had chosen not to return, having discovered something so powerful that they abandoned the Faendryl entirely.
For Yhtrinn, the loss was devastating. The structured, disciplined world of the Clerisy held little sympathy for orphans, especially those too young to contribute meaningfully to its research. Though he was technically taken in by distant relatives, they were cold and indifferent, more concerned with their own studies than the well-being of a lost child. He was expected to continue his parents’ work, but no one had time to teach him.
Thus, he taught himself.
A Life of Self-Reliance
Bereft of guidance, Yhtrinn threw himself into his studies with a relentless hunger. He devoured every scrap of knowledge he could find on the valences, necrotic energy, and planar manipulation, searching for answers to the questions no one else seemed to ask. What had happened to his parents? Was there a way to find them—or bring them back? Did they want to be found?
As he grew older, Yhtrinn became increasingly disillusioned with the Faendryl. Though they revered knowledge, their rigid hierarchy meant that only those of sufficient rank and political favor were allowed access to the most crucial research. The answers he sought were locked behind layers of bureaucracy, secrets hoarded by those too fearful to truly wield the power they claimed to master.
Eventually, he realized that if he was ever going to uncover the truth, it would not be within the confines of New Ta’Faendryl.
And so, he left.
His departure was seen as an act of either recklessness or outright defiance. A promising young sorcerer abandoning the Clerisy? It was unheard of. Some assumed he had grown weak, unable to endure the discipline required of a true Faendryl scholar. Others suspected he had become obsessed with the same madness that had consumed his parents. Regardless of their opinions, Yhtrinn did not look back.
A New Path in Wehnimer’s Landing
Now in Wehnimer’s Landing, Yhtrinn finds himself among those who see magic not as a carefully curated science, but as a living, breathing force to be tamed and wielded. The chaotic frontier town is a stark contrast to the ordered halls of New Ta’Faendryl, yet in its lawlessness, he finds something strangely freeing. Here, he is not bound by the expectations of his ancestors. He can pursue his own research, unburdened by the politics of the Clerisy. He can experiment in ways the Faendryl would deem reckless. And, perhaps most importantly, he can seek out those who truly understand the dangers of the valences—those who have encountered beings not meant to be known.
Because deep down, Yhtrinn still clings to one belief:
His parents were not simply lost. Something took them. And he intends to find out what.
Writings
On the Nature of Sorcery: Power Without Delusion
On the Summoning of Demons: Purpose and Mastery
On the Arkati: A Faendryl Perspective
The Nature of Faendryl Society: Strength, Progress, and the Price of Greatness
Appearance
You see Lord Yhtrinn Saelvith Faendryl the Sorcerer. He appears to be a Dark Elf. He is very tall. He appears to be an adult. He has brooding glaes black eyes and vibrant, black skin. He has long, straight steel grey hair tucked neatly behind his ears. He has a bony face, a classical nose and long pointed ears. He has a diamond-inset onyx half-ring in the upper ridge of his left ear. He is holding a pitch black staff carved to resemble skeletal hands grasping a skull in his right hand. He is wearing an onyx pentagram amulet, a bone-inlaid silver torc, a pair of wide-set buckskin pauldrons scorched with dark glyphs, a deeply hooded pitch black over robe stitched with silver runes, a wight skin armband, a scarlet owl-shaped pin, a frayed leather harness, a dark leather buffcoat, a full-sleeved long grey silk shirt, a coarse burlap sack, a punched suede sack drawn by feathered ties, some conditioned black leather trousers, and a pair of pitch black vruul skin boots studded with skull-shaped doomstones.