Cor'van'thar, Keeper of What Was
Age: Unknown (around a thousand years, considering when he supposedly was born)
Race: Sun Elf
Sex: Male
Date of birth: It's...been a while...
Place of birth: Myth Drannor
Alignment: Neutral
Patron deity: Silvanus
Profession: Ar'Taer'Caelen, Nature's Caretaker
Classes: Druid
Primary language: Elven
Secondary languages: Sylvan, Draconic, and a couple more he picked up over time
Physical description: Willowy, with sculpture-smooth ivory skin, silky and flowing silver hair and bright emerald eyes
Psychological description: On the surface, he carries himself with the quiet, unyielding stillness of an ancient oak. Having spent centuries listening to the slow respiration of the forest, human conversations feel fleeting and rushed to him; he speaks only when necessary, choosing words with deliberate precision. He possesses a profoundly neutral world-view, viewing life, death, decay, and rebirth not as tragedies or triumphs, but as the rhythmic, necessary machinery of the Wild. This makes him appear cold or detached to outsiders, as he will fiercely protect a forest grove but comfortably watch a dying campfire consume a fallen branch. Ultimately, he lives in a state of eternal watchfulness: he considers himself a custodian rather than a master, forever standing on the border between the harmony of the grove and the brutality of the deep woods.
Religious views: Follower of Silvanus, but also devoted to Rillifane and often also paying his respects to Fenmarel
Ancestor: Elven.
BIOGRAPHY
Family
Born around 360 DR in the ancient forests of Cormanthor, he is a Sun Elf descended from one of the old elven families that dwelled beneath the boughs long before the fall of Myth Drannor. His parents were devoted to the forest and to the old ways, raising him among the ancient paths and quiet places of Cormanthor.
The names of his family have long since faded from his memory, just like his own. He remembers their faces, their voices, and fragments of the life they shared, but not all their names, nor precisely where their paths ultimately led. Of his bloodline, he may well be the last living branch.
A millennium later, he remembers the forest more clearly than he remembers them or even himself.
History
He came of age beneath the boughs of Cormanthor while Myth Drannor still flourished, and spent centuries learning the forest, its hidden paths, and the old ways of the Druids. He witnessed the Weeping War and the fall of Myth Drannor in 714 DR, an event that forever changed his relationship with elven civilization.
As the centuries passed, he became increasingly a guardian of Cormanthor itself, watching kingdoms, peoples, and even entire traditions fade into memory. His power grew, as did his distance from the concerns of mortal societies. In time, even his own name was lost to him.
When the Retreat began in 1344 DR, and the elves of Cormanthor gradually departed for Evermeet and elsewhere, he remained. By 1360 DR, he is about a thousand years old—a living remnant of an age almost entirely gone.
Few know his true history. Fewer still know his name.
He remembers them simply call him Cor'van'thar.
Future and Plot Hooks
His greatest concern is the Misty Forest, a vast and largely untended woodland threatened by drow, orcs, and others who would exploit or despoil it. He seeks like-minded Druids with whom to form a new Circle dedicated to preserving its balance and wildness. In doing so, he hopes not only to protect the forest, but to pass on the wisdom gathered over his thousand years before it, too, is forgotten. The old paths and forgotten places he remembers may prove invaluable—but his memories, like the forest itself, are not always as they once were.
Heirloom item
His most treasured possession is a simple wooden comb, carved from the wood of an ancient Cormanthoran tree. A tree that was there before he was born, and was later destroyed during the Fall. He remembers his mother using the comb on his hair when he was a child, though he can no longer recall her name...and, after a thousand years, he is no longer entirely certain that every detail of the memory is true. The comb has nevertheless remained with him through the Fall of Myth Drannor, the passing of centuries, and the Retreat. Worn and unremarkable, it is perhaps his oldest, most prized possession.