[ biography ]

I was born and raised Karahd-Ehl Gessle. My home was a small village in the remote forests of the Pelle Lowlands. A lush region of elven provinces on the other side of the realm, or so it seems to me at times.

My father was a strong, handsome specimen of the elven race, who hunted for his family; barely earning enough to support his family. But, proud he was and refused to borrow or accept charity, for a realist he was and believed that if he were not capable of repaying the money the next day, then he was not meant to have it.

My mother, on the other hand was ever the love-giving, life-sustaining creature that we all imagine the perfect mother to be. Of course, this may be a bias of mine, however that is my right. She supplemented the household income by teaching in our home for a few slag per child per month. She would also maintain the historical documents of our small province in the town library. It is from her that I learned the important skill of letters and my intellectual curiosity bloomed under her tutelage.

I remember stealing away in the depths of the forest, lulled to sleep by the sound of the gentle forest beasts with one of her scrolls fallen lazily across my lap. My father would come in search of me, and always seemed to know exactly where I was and would carry me home and tuck me into my bed while he and my mother would sing my favourite elven lullabies. My father couldn't carry a tune, unlike most elves, but the familiar discord of their voices would always comfort and force my lids close to its bidding.

During the winter of my 190th birthday my mother caught ill and died after bravely fighting a plague of sickness that was sweeping the Pelle. As first (and only) daughter of my mother, custom dictated that I gather her belongings for the funeral pyre that would send them with her to the following life. Amongst her belongings was a red leather-bound volume containing text I could not read. I brought this to my father who explained to me that my mother had been a retired scholar mage. Shocked I was to learn that the woman I had known all my life was a powerful sorceress, and angry at the same time, not understanding why she couldn't use her powers to save herself. My father, impatient as he tended to be, snatched the book and insisted it would be part of the pyre. It pained me later, watching as the body of my mother and all her possessions, especially that tome of untold power was being burned away to nothing more than useless ash.

The death of my mother and the knowledge about her past strengthened my will to learn as much as I could about the history of my region. I studied in all the libraries. I became, in a few short years renowned for my knowledge and uncanny memorization skills throughout my elven nation. I learned as much as I could. This was my guise. My way of hiding the nature of my true search. My personal quest was to find any and all references to mages and sorcery. Finally, when I achieved the age of 208, I found what I was looking for. A scrap of paper, yellowed with age detailing the accounts a handful of elven mages who left a kingdom named Sable to retire in their homeland of Pelle. My mother was the last. It was time to leave.

It is a wonder I ever made it to Sable. My navigational skills leave much to be desired; despite my knowledge it took me years to find my way. Ever proud, I refused assistance and shelter among the different races and cultures I met on my travels. But, I made it finally. And here I am.

Since my induction into the Mages Guild, I have become more extroverted: found many friends, had a brief relationship, have taken a liking to ale, spent more money than I had ever previously seen in my life and met the vilest creatures mentioned only in haunting tales told to elven children as a warning to be careful and stay close to home. With all this, I must say that I have found my new family and it is the most welcoming family second only to the mother and father who raised me to be the self-sufficient, proud elven daughter I have become.