Birth - The story of Illiten Windspurn

[HollowedHeart]

((this is the story of my upcoming half-elf barbarian, OOC comments and critique HIGHLY encouraged))

The night was a cold one, dark and quiet in the shadows under the leaves above, not a star in the sky, the moon barely showing through the gray clouds that filled the night, a gentle wind carressing whispers through the branches into the ears of a young human man by the name of Tantrin the wanderer and his pregnant elven love Illhara as they stride through the woods, the sorceress sitting upon the back of a tired mule as her husband guides it by the reins under branc, over rock and stone. They have had a long journey, a journey to last in their legacy for the next generation to remember clearly in their minds....even as one sleeps.

"How much longer love?" ask Illhara with her sweet melodic voice, Tantrin turning his head over his shoulder, an unkempt beard upon his weather beaten face, a stark contrast to Illhara's unnatural beauty..even among the elves.

"Not much longer Illhara, not much longer"He smiled and continued to guide them through the woods and over a creek where they stopped to set up a small campfire where they sat and ate Tantrins famned Woodsbrew Stew in silence, simply enjoying each other's company for the time being, smiles on their faces..no need for words between them, their love genuine and true.

A snap of a twig echoed through the woods as they both snapped around at the sound "Honey?" Illhara said, her voice clearly shaken as large heaving breaths echoed in the small clearing, leaves rustling in the shadows.

"Dont worry love...Dont worry" He said, trying to comfort her, but he himself could not help but feel fear in his heart as he places a hand on his scimitar, his eyes darting across the woodline for any sign of life then all went quiet.

"I think they are..." Illhara was about to say that they were gone but just then, several towering trolls, each at least a few feet higher than Tantrin, their beady blind eyes filled with ungodly hunger as they sniffed the air, drools and spit sloppering down their jaws and Illhara let out a spell, sending magical missiles slamming into the first troll as Tantrin got to his feet and cut it's arm off, only to see it regenerate itself within a few seconds. The fight lasted for hours on end, blade slashing wildly, spells flying across the battle field but to no avail..They were doomned, Tantrin was overwhelmned, his limbs torn from his torso as if he were some rag doll and tossed aside, the trolls' now fixing their attention to the spelless pregnant sorceress, greed and hunger in their eyes, she grasped her staff, whispering a prayer to Silvanus, hoping that she could perhaps survive this...hoping that this was all just a dream and both her, Tantrin and her unborn baby were still asleep, but it was not, she raised her staff infront of her as the first took a step closer, she was ready to die if need be but just then, an arrow whizzed past her head and slammned into the troll's chest, it's flesh instantly catching on fire as several more arrows whizzed out from the shadows of the forest, slamming into each and every troll, killing them where they stood....Un godly moans filling the forest.

When finally the trolls quieted themselves, Illhara raised her head to examine the area around her, it was silent, as if nothing had happened as three elves elves, their skin the color of wood..nay..for one of them, his skin -was- indeed made of wood, they walked up to her and helped her to her feet, speaking soft elven words in her ears. "Come cousin...We will take you to that place which you belong." and so they guided the shaken elven woman to their hidden city, elves of all races lived there in peace and harmony with their surroundings. "Welcome to our home" Said the bark skinned elf on her right..."Welcome"

For 4 months she lived among them, her stomach maturing at a pace very uncommon among the elves when it came time for her to give birth, the midwives gathered around her as a heavy mist fell in, the first hairs on the top of the half-elven child came forth.

Long hours of labor and Illhara was just fine, sustained by her own magic, coupled with the magic of the midwives, she held her child in her arms as he giggled happily, the mist naturally twining around his arms and she says.."Ohhh..My little Mist Spinner....My little Iliten....so pretty, so beautiful"

...............................................................................................

18 years later,

Iliten awakes from his sleep with a start, the mists in his dream still spinniing in his head as he clutches his head, massaging it gently..."What an odd dream" He said to himself right before a woman's voice calls up the stairs to his room. "Iliten! Wake up you lazy lout! You're going to be late for your appointment with the mage's academy!"

He sighs, massaging his temples..

"ILITEN!!!!"

"Oi! I'm awake! I'll be down in a second Ma!" He gets up and grabs his black leather coat, throwing it over his bare chest and walks to the mirror, examining his handsome features, naturally tanned skin, emerald green eyes and smooth silky hair as black as night itself, he picks something out of his teeth real quick before he heads down the stairs.... "Damnable dreams"

[HollowedHeart]

Iliten's steel lined heels click along the stone stairs of his home as he comes pounding down towards the voice of his anxious mother. A grin crosses his face when he enters the kitchen packed full of his mother's maidens all of them whispering and giggling at the appearance of the young Master Windspurn and his choice of fashion sense, various buckles and chains hainging from his leather coat, slacks and boots, but the grin quickly disappears as his "human" mother comes wading through the crowd of giggling maidens, waving her laddle at him "Look here young man! The world doesnt revolve around you, you know! Hurry! Eat! Eat! and get going!" She shoves a bowl of porridge into his hands, but no more than two bites...Next thing he knows, he is being pushed toward the gates where his finely bred young steed awaited for him.

"Go now..Quickly..Ride like the wind and make the Windspurn family proud!" She slaps the horse's rear and it goes off in a dead sprint, almost too sudden for Illiten to grab hold of the reins in time as he sped down the dirt road that lead from Windspurn Keep, a small time Noble Farmstead Village...completely unawares that this day would change his life forever.

He reaches the city, dismounting from his steed and strutting about the cobble stone streets in his eye drawing attire, his boots clicking againt the stone as he arrives in front of the Mage's school of Darromar..Tethyr.
"By the Gods.....It's huge!" He exclaimned silently to himself as he marlved at the sight of the large campus.

The young half-elf strutted in, handing the reigns over to a young servant, his eyes stuck upon the large bronze door leading into the place he has dreamnt of for years.

Eventually he arrives in the Head Master's office with a wide grin on his face that quickly disappears as he recieves a disapproving frown at his choice of style from the Head Master as the elderly man slams a pile of paperwork onto his desk. Peering over his spectacles he says "Iliten Windspurn? You're late...Not even fashionably late" He glances at Iliten's clothing with a scowl on his face.

"Alright then young Windspurn...Let's see you cast a spell." He says, tapping his fingers together, watching Illiten closely.

"I ummmm....I dont know any spells sir...Tis why I came here to begin with" Iliten said in a nervous voice.

"You're telling me that you cant even cast a simple cantrip and you are -here- in MY school, trying to enroll?" The elderly man scowls at Iliten.

"Yes..Yes I am sir" He stutters nervously in reply.

The Head Master sighs in defeat.."Very well..Here.." he tosses a scroll to the young half-elf "Try this..a simple cantrip..Let's see if you can AT LEAST cast this much..If you can, I'll consider enrolling you into our Specialty Program until you get better at it."

Iliten holds the scroll in hand and begins to chant the words but when he finishes, nothing happens...at all.

"Get....Get out of my sight this instant!"

............................................................................................
17 years prior,

Young baby Iliten laughs hysterically as he plays with a small kitten in his birth mother's yard, the poor creature trying desperately to escape the jaws of doom that have clamped around it's orange tail in vain as the baby half-elf's mother, Illhara watches on with a soft smile on her face, looking up as the village's High-Priest walks in patting baby Iliten on the head with a soft smile, rescuing the kitten from a doomned wet tail, causing Baby Iliten to giggle, his brilliant green eyes sparkling as the High-Priest turns his attention to Illhara. "Illhara, we must speak" his voice soft and troubled, bringing more than a little worry into the heart of the young Elven Mother.."Is there something wrong High-Priest?"

"The council has come to a decision Illhara, the boy cannot stay..."

"But..but I will leave with him..as well..I can..right?"

"No child..I'm afraid not. You have learned the secrets of this village and cannot be permitted to leave..Your son however, apart from what has been read in the stars at his birth....He knows nothing of this place and will leave..Worry not daughter of Silvanus...Arrangements have been made...and know that your Son will at least recieve a good life and a well upbringing."

She nods, tears rolling down her cheeks as she closes her eyes in pain, the High Priest walking over to pick up the gigling young half-elf up into his arms, prodding his stomach in a playful manner. "Come little Iliten. Let's go for a walk"

[HollowedHeart]

The High-Priest strides up the stairs of Windspurn Keep, placing a basket woven of living wood on the doorstep, the child inside sound asleep, giggling in his dreams as the High-Priest gently kisses his forehead "Silvanus guard you child" He said as he leaves a note inside the basket titled "To the Lady of Windspurn Keep"

Lady Windspurn,
This child here is Iliten, a young half-elf without mother or father. Prphaned and found in the woods, I know you to be a woman of kind heart and know well of your inability to have children of your own. I offer him to you and ask of you to take care of him, he is a good boy, sweet and full of cheer....I know you can find it in your heart to love him as your own.

Silvanus Guide You.

[HollowedHeart]

WARNING : DO NOT READ IF BLOOD, GORE, AND/OR TRAGIC STORIES IN GENERAL OFFENDS YOU!!!

Head bowed in shame, Iliten slowly rode his horse down the well traveled road, his emerald green eyes fixed upon the neck of his well bred steed, his mind slowly mulling over the fact that he has shamned his family, unable to be enrolled into the Mage's School due to his own incompentency but as he rounded a bend, a shadowed figure jumped out of the bushes, causing him to whip out his blade, pulling his steed to a stop, holding his blade up high to strike at whatever jumped out but stayed his hand as he remembered the features of a young half-elven woman, a maid in Windspurn Keep, she was bloodied and near death but she crawled up towards him anyways as he quickly hopped off the black steed to kneel by her side, catching her as she collapsed in his arms.

"Master...Master Windspurn" She said to him, her voice soft and almost non-existant.

"Ayilia! What happened!?!?" He whispered to her, his green eyes quickly fillling with worry and sorrow.."Who did this!?!?"

"Bandits young Master....The Keep, the village..your mother..." but no more words left her mouth even as she struggled to speak more, he could not gather anymore information from her as he placed his fingers over her face and closed her eyes, taking off his coat to cover her body, for he had not the time to bury, her...He would hurry, for who knew what was happening at the Keep, he worried for his mother greatly as he hopped upon the Steed, laying his bare chest against the steed's neck, urging it to ride forward with all due haste.

It wasnt long until Iliten saw the smoke...He rode into the village, passing burnt houses and farms, the dead lying all around in piles, ravaged by vultures, filled with arrows and gashes, some missing body parts even....He hurried to the Keep.

His boots clicked loudly against the stone steps leading to the broken down oaken main entrance, knocked from it's very hinges by a battering ram of some sort...He ran into the Keep, blood, intestines and various body parts of servants and guards sprayed the walls in a disgusting piece of art, re rushed into the kitchen, his mother lying dead upon the table, her legs hanging off the edge, her form torn almost to the point of being unable to recognize, He rushed up and held her in his arms against his bare chest..."Ma!!!! Ma!!!!" He cried out to her..trying to revive her with all the little skills he had, but to no success...She continued to lay motionless in his arms.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he held her silently in his arms, only the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears just as several hands grabbed him and pushed him to the floor, slamming his face against the stone causing him to bite his lip and spill blood upon the stone, but he seemned to be oblivious to all of it..."Ma..." He said softly through his tears..."Everyone..Everyone...gone"

A laugh breaks out from the men who held him down as one grabs hold of his chin, squatting down infront of him.."Crying are we pretty boy? You filthy half-bred bastard child...." the man laughed, cutting a gash across Iliten's face with a wide grin, licking up the blood and tears with his fowl smelling barbaric tongue....

Iliten's heart began to race with anger, he let out a low growl..His heart a storm beating in his ribcage..thump, thump, thump, thump thump thump

The foul smelling barbarian jerked Illiten's face toward his own placing a kiss upon Iliten's lips with a cruel laugh "Ha! Why you must be Iliten Windspur the half-breed!......you know..your mother screamned the loudest"

THUMP! Iliten's heartbeat stopped abrubtly at the words...He face changinging slowly from sorrowful anger...to pure hatred as his heart began to beat again...a soft gentle pulse..His head bowed as the barbarian grabbed for his long black hair "What's the matter half-breed? Going to cry some more? Nobody can hear you!"

A hoarse unforgiving voice left his lips.."that means...Nobody can hear you scream for mercy"

The barbarians laughed at this thinking it a poor attempt to intimidate them but their expressions quickly changing as he reached for his blade, visciously pulling it free from it's scabbard and swinging it with all do rage and ferocity upwards and out, practically tearing the bandit in half. He roared in anger, quickly kicking out with his steel boots, smashing faces in and tearing into his enemies, as much with sword as nails and teeth, not a bit of mercy in his heart... the world swam before his blood shot eyes as he roared even louder, swinging without care for who or what he was swinging at... it wasnt long before darkness settled in and his world disappeared from under his feet.

..........................................................................................
Several hours later,

Iliten felt a sharp prick upon his bare back, his eyes snapping open immediately as he spins around reaching for whatever it was that pricked him to no success as the vulture flew from his back, he pushed his tired form up from the pile, his muscles aching from the endeavor, he glanced around at the corpses of the people around him and moved toward his mother's body, picking her already stiffining flesh up into his arms and strode toward the cemetary and began to dig her grave...He spent hours on end digging deep into the earth, burying his mother and offering a silent prayer to Kelemvor, hoping that he would guide her to her destination so that she may rest in peace. He placed a kiss upon the makeshift tombstone, the best he could provide and prceded to the village with torch in hand, setting everything on fire, corpses, buildings, crops..everything..tears flowing down his copper cheeks as he realized that his life will never be the same again.

[HollowedHeart]

Two years later

Rough black leather boots lined with steel and screws stomp down on the hot sand of the Anarauch, belonging to a hooded figure dressed in black rags, his leather trousers covered in various chains and buckles of different sizes, hanging freely in the hot desert sun, though the heat did not seem to bother the man at all, or rather..the half-elf at all, as can be seen when he lifts his head up, the hood falling slightly away from his face, revealing a handsome angular face, scarred a slash across his face. Grimicing at the hot sun high above his head, he casts his eyes over the horizon, seeing a range of mountains not too far in the distance...he walks toward the peaks at a casual pace, a large sword hilt protruding from behind his right shoulder, slowly making his way toward some unknown destination as he wandered the lands, unfettered by weather or any hardships.

A few days later, he reached the edge of the desert, coming across a small pond he tossed the clothes and armor from his form and walked into the water, his arms opened out to his sides as he felt the cool liquid purifying his tired and travelworn body as his head is submerged, he swims for a moment cleaning off his body before emerging from the depths of the pond, water dripping down his muscular form as he steps out and towards his clothes, letting himself air dry, tossing away the rag that protected him from the harsh Anarauch sun, for he would not need it in the North of Faerun a small smile crosses his face as his emerald green eyes glance down the path ahead of him as he slides back into his clothes, shouldering his sword, he makes his way down the path, the Windspurn family emblem displayed proudly upon the worn blade's hilt, a fair haired woman dancing through the wind..The First Lady Windspurn, Ironic that she would be travelling with the Last Windspurn, whom is not even a direct descendent...Iliten smiles as he himself realizes this irony, picking up his pace as it leads him to Silverymoon, the one place in the world he knew half-elves would be welcome, where few would hold their petty grudges about his half-blood nature..."Let's hope you're right fortune teller...Or I'll travel all the way back to Sembia to lob your head off myself.."
....................................................................................

3 weeks before,

Iliten walks the streets of Selgaunt, down along the wide path of the Temple District, priests of numerous faiths moving up and down the street, running errands, preaching, tithing and some..even selling potions along the sidewalk, a grimace crosses his face as he examines the hypocrisy of the so-called civilized races, these...Holy-Rollers as his wean mother Jezebel would say...."Gods above and Demons below...As miss all of you so much...almost two years has passed..and yet, i cant keep my mind off of you.." He mumbles softly to himself, pushing his way through the crowd, tossing a couple pickpockets to the ground as they tried to snatch at his coin pouch, barking in their faces, even causing one of the thieves to wet himself in fear before slamming the man into a dumpster he almost reached the end of the district when he heard a noise.." Pssst called a voice from an alleyway, he decided to follow in brushing cobwebs from his face, only to see a small man sitting behind a chair in an odd robe, covered in a multitude of colors, his sandals kicked up on his table, a crystal ball sitting upon a silver stand right next to his feet... A growl of irritation crosses his face "You better have a good explanation for disturbing me......*his eyes move to the crystal ball* Going to do some ball gazing magics for me?" He growls, glaring down at the little man as the robed figure glances up at the hulking half-elf with a wide grin, kicking his crystal ball off to the side "Nah...that there is just for show...I'm sure I can provide you something else though young Master Windspurn"

"wind...Wait, how do you know my name?" He shouts grabbing the little man up by the collar, hoisting him up nearly four feet off the ground with a single hand.."Speak!"

"Shhhh...Shhhh....calm down there..calm down.....I just wanted to read your fortune for you..sheeesh....a name is easy to get" the man said, gently patting Iliten's clenched fist with his slender hands, before Iliten dropped him to the ground with a thud..."Start speaking...Now.."

"the little man seemned hardly bothered at all by this display of rage and brute strength..instead, he simply stood there and smiled up at the young half-elf.."Well then, apart from what you already know...The cause of that scar of yours..*points to the horizontal slash that crosses Iliten's face* you might be interested to hear that there -is- something out there for you...even if you dont think so..what with your constant aimless roaming in the past year and 11 and a half months.....Go to Baldur's Gate.. You might find what you seek there"

[HollowedHeart]

One year after the burning of Windspurn Keep,

For the past three weeks, Iliten has traveled with his new companion, an odd robed woman dressed in robes and wearing some strange feathered mask, her accent..though foreign to him, was not all that hard to understand....He first met her when he set foot into the lands of the Rashemi..Her name was Talthanin, a Hathran, otherwise known as a Rashemi Witch, a spiritual leader of sorts was all that the young half-elf knew of her as they sat around the campfire at night, the rabbit he caught for them slowly roasting over the flames.

"Tell me my big burly comrade. What is your faith?" She asked him as she watched him prod at the pile of burning wood to stir up the fire.

He raised his green eyes to her. "I have no faith, I see no reason to worship these so called gods...I rely on myself, my own strength, something tangible and real..Not some unknown hand in the sky"

He could see a smile forming under the edge of her mask. "What if I told you of my faith? Would you listen?" She asked him. "The way you fight, the way you live....You might just like what you hear"

He grunted, giving a gruff nod to her.."I'll listen" He said as he nicked the rabbit with his knife to check and see if it was ready or not.

She proceeded to tell him of the old days, telling him of ancient spirits, of ancestors, of totems and telthors. She told him of how they reacted in this world, how they lived and still live side by side with the people, though most unaware of their presence.

For several days they traveled together, Iliten acting as her bodyguard as she told him more and more of her faith, filling his mind and soul with her words. "You know...You too have a totem. A spirit of a great beast inside of you, one with you....He gives to strength...those surges of power that you feel in the height of battle...it all comes from your totem."

"I do?" He asked her.."How do you know?"

"I -am- a hathran Iliten....I know these kind of things" She replied with a laugh.

"What is it?"

"That's for -you- to find out my large comrade, only you can know who or what your totem is." She replied to his second question. He simply grunts, not even bothering with trying to understand it at the time, knowing full too well he'd probably just give himself a head ache.

.........................................................................................

A few weeks later,
The duo arrived at their destination, the Hathran smiling at him as they stopped at the gates of a small town, she hands him a long needle carved of ivory. "Here" She said "Take this, you might find some use for it when the time is right."

He takes it in one of his hands, examining it closely before looking back to her. "And how will I know when the time is right? Or what to even do?"

She chuckled as she moved through the gates "Oh, you'll know Iliten, you'll know...and thanks for the ride. I had plenty of entertainment....Until next time"

He stood there...dumbfounded as he slid the needle into his travelling sack. "Guess I'll have to find out"