The Tracker of Tales: Lyrus Aleham

[Lumnian Loremaster]

Distant in the North, at the mountains of the Spine, a war is at breakout. Orcs and ogres from distant lands are on the shores to make their homes on the northern reaches of Faêrun. There a lonelly elf was born. Awaking alone inside one of the many Wind Temples of the Spine, there he lived, ruled and guided by his own misteries and the whispers of the skies. At his young age, this elf behave himself like a beast, learning from words carried by misterious windblows, only enough how to hunt and survive the hardships of the high reaches of the Spine. No name he received...
Being left to the wilds and rocks by a family he never knew, the elf learned only to talk the language of the beasts, guided by breezes, whirlwinds and windgusts.
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The tatoo on his neck, a beautyfull black compass-card adornned with a central whirlwind, was a hint to an old merchant who found him on the verge of death, attacked by a pack of harpies. Poisoned by their ill touch, this elf would have no chance to survive. Perhaps a child touched by the bless of freedom...
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The face of luck smiled to this young elf, who had fought for food many years of his life and was about to be the prey on that day. Aleham was skilled with the sword and knew tricks from the arcane lore, enough to emerge victorious on his confrotation with several harpies. Under his care, the elf was then healed by alchemy and arcane scrolls. Adopted by this merchant, the elf then learned about the world bellow the icy winds of the Spine...vast and wild as his homeland. With time's passing, Aleham taught him few languages...and one of those was the language of the sounds.
First, the elf learned how to behave more like a racional being, not just a savage beast, wich was a difficult lesson. Then, he learned to speak with the sword, an easier task.
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Carrying a golden lyre, Aleham often played mystical tunes that always gathered unnexpected crowds, such as faeries and spiritual beings. Surround by this wonderfull mistery, the elf soon became curious about such power, that matched the whispers of the winds he listened to his whole life.
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As he travelled together with Aleham from village to village, trading songs, potions ands scrolls to the barbarians, old hermits and even ores to the dwarves on Mithral Hall, making contact with a major variety of cultures, the elf soon discovered at his young age that he would cross the entire world, accompanied by the winds and his master Aleham, to discover and live the misteries of Faêrun. Such was his essence. Believing there was a reason to being born from the skies and the winds, the elf had faith that freedom was his destiny.
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Although he had set his dreams and aspirations high on the roads of Faêrun, Lyrus, as he soon called himself, for enjoying the sound of his master's lyre, discovered that misery and death is also a part of the world he lived. Soon illness and age got the best of Aleham away. Becoming sick and fragile, his human image of a father was slowly closing his eyes forever. For the first time, Lyrus felt the sadness of a great loss. Driven by his own feelings, now he was alone again in Faêrun. But now he was more prepared than enough to face his destiny. He would walk over all the places to learn from them, live every step as a curious tracker of tales and deeds.
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He never noticed...but his own life was led by questions that were never answered. Lyrus often made contact with barbarian families and dwarven clans. All the warmth of unity was something he never knew. Never Lyrus knew anything about his true parents...or why he would've been left in such a reclusive place of Faêrun, to die or whatever fate would have reserved for him.
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After burying his master near the most peacefull Wind Temple, Lyrus then earned his master's lyre and name, in honor of the only family he ever knew...kind and wise. Not the qualities Lyrus earned from him. First joining a caravan of merchant dwarves heading south, Lyrus then made friends amongst the spiritted travellers...but his own tale out of the Spine did not begin well. Gambling and drinking like a fool, Lyrus was stripped of all his goods and his lyre after a long time travelling. Tossed like garbage on the gates of Baldur, he was then left by the guards at Elfsong Tavern, with few coins and shame on his pockets.
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Being a free spirit, Lyrus Aleham didn't care much about his unfortunate turns of events...as he believed that was just a small start, but interesting in some way. Standing tall and confident, he then started his life of adventures...learning from each tale and melody...and spreading them to the world. Perhaps this way he could inspire others to act kind and wise as his master was...and at the same time discover the wonders of Faêrun and have some good times! Perhaps...he could even learn more about himself...and find out where his lyre is!!!