Aelitan's Biography

Chapter One

"So you wish to know of my history......"

Aelitan does not look up from his fletching kit to see your response.
Fingers working quickly, feathers join shaft in a deft series of motions
that soon add another arrow to the neat pile beside him. It is clear that
even these simple arrows are something that Aelitan takes pride in, making
sure each is as finely crafted as it can be.

"I am afraid I have little to tell. I will begin with my parents and we
shall see where that leads. My father was given the name Aelor. He served
Tunare as a ranger, learning the ways of the bow and sword. I do not know
if he was very powerful as rangers go. As a young lad, he certainly was
the most powerful man I had ever seen."

Another arrow joins the pile. The fingers never stop as they seek another shaft.

"My mother lived as Nanya, a druid of Tunare. She was tall and beautiful,
with hair as dark as the wood of the walnut tree. She raised me while
father guided those who hunted rare creatures. I know that she retained
her skills, but my birth ended her traveling with my father."

The shaft ready, a nock is found and the fitting begins. The silence
stretches to an uncomfortable length as the nock is fitted and a point is
taken from a small pouch.

"My mother told me the story of their meeting, once. My father was a
headstrong young man, full of confidence in his abilities. He did not heed
warnings given to him by elder rangers. At a very young age, he went into
Crushbone to make a name for himself against the Crushbone Clan. He
challenged a Legionnaire, and quickly found his limits."

A set of feathers joins the shaft and another arrow is placed on the pile.
Preparations begin on another shaft.

"My father was dying. At his young age, he was clearly no match for the
giant orc. He did not cry for help, and he did not run to escape. He had
made his choice, and was going to accept the consequences. As the orc
landed blow after blow, and my father felt his strength leaving, he felt a
change. He began to see a blue glow. His strength returned, little by
little. Soon he felt well enough to continue the battle in earnest. As he
gained new hope, the Legionnaire panicked and ran. My father chased the
beast down and slew him. He turned around and saw a young druid watching
him from behind a tree. It was my mother. She had seen him losing his
life, and aided him in his time of need with no asking."

Nock and point quickly join the shaft as the fingers continue the dance.

"From that point on, my parents were inseparable. My father had found the
missing component in his skills - he could not live alone any longer. Many
seasons they traveled together, until at last they wed. I was born not
long after. It is painful to me to think that I am the reason they stopped
their travels together. My father continued guiding those who needed to
find rare beasts, while my mother tended to my needs. Clearly, she wished
to be with him. She was always watching the door whenever he was gone,
waiting for his return. For my father's part, I know that he missed her
greatly, as his smile when he returned lit the whole grove."

Feathers neatly added to the shaft, another arrow is created. A new shaft
is obtained, and a nock is put in its place rapidly. Fingers search out
another point from the pouch. There is another long pause as Aelitan
stares intently at his work.

"One morning a group of adventurers came into Kelethin. They did not
hesitate, but came directly to the door of our home. My father was
teaching me the use of a small bow that he had made for me. They announced
that they sought my father's services to track creatures for them......."

There is a sharp intake of breath as the fingers stop their dance. Aelitan
slowly removes the point that is embedded in his palm, a river of crimson
flowing from his hand. He stares at his hand for a moment, then returns
the pouches to his fletching kit. He picks up the small pile of arrows and
places them in his quiver. There is wet blood glistening on the shafts.
He continues in a quiet, broken voice.

"I am sorry friend. I fear I lose my will to speak further. I have need
to be alone for a time. Perhaps another day I will continue my telling."

Aelitan quickly gets up and bows. He sets off into the woods, quickly
fading into the trees as if he belongs to them.

Chapter Two

    Night is deep over the campsite. Flickering shadows are cast upon the
trees as the light of the small fire dances in the ring of stones. The
darkness on the other side of the fire coalesces into a man as Aelitan
steps into the light. He carries his worn fletching kit in one hand, a
long stave of an unknown wood in the other.

Aelitan does not speak as he sits down and sets the staff beside him. He
opens his fletching kit and removes a small tin and a metal plane from the
kit. The tin he sets on a flat rock near the fire, the plane he begins to turn in his hands.

"I have come to understand that my first telling did not satisfy your
desire to know of me. I thought that I may tell a bit more this eve, as
the rest lie sleeping. The telling is still painful, so I do not know how
long it will go on."

Aelitan begins disassembling the plane, removing the blade from the
housing. He removes a stone from another pouch and places blade to stone
in long, smooth strokes.

"As I had said, my father gained some small reputation as a tracker of rare
creatures, and his services were in demand. This took him from our home
for periods of time."

Aelitan flips the blade over and places the flat back against the stone,
working the blade from side-to-side.

"There came a day when a group of powerful travelers sought out my father,
coming straight to our house. My father was showing me the use of a small
bow he had made for me, my first bow. The group knocked on the door and my
father left to answer. Quickly after the visitors spoke, my father stepped
outside and closed the door."

Aelitan continues with the stone, alternating front and back in
ever-lighter strokes.

"When my father returned, the men were gone. I knew that he was leaving
again, but the look on his face was different. My mother saw this as well
as my father entered their room. She asked him where he was going. I did
not hear his answer, but I heard her response. She cried 'HATE? Surely ye
will be torn asunder!' Soon after that, the door closed as they argued in ever-louder voices."

Aelitan holds the blade in his right hand, and gently tests it on the hairs
on the back of his left. The hair is shorn cleanly off, leaving no trace.
Satisfied, Aelitan begins reassembling the plane.

"Of course I had heard my parents argue before, but this was different.
They argued long into the night. Once my mother came out to get me a bite
to eat, then later my father came to tuck me into bed. Both times, my
parents returned to arguing when they were finished with me. I gathered
that my mother was concerned for my father's safety. So I came up with a plan to help."

The plane is now held in Aelitan's right hand, as he holds the stave in his
left. Thin shavings of wood are removed with every pass of the plane.

"After I was put in bed, I opened my eyes and got up. I had decided that
if my father needed help, I was the one to do it. I assembled a change of
clothes, my new bow, and my "sword". I suppose it was only a hunting
knife, but my father had warned me it could be a deadly weapon. I knew
that I would slay whatever tried to harm my father."

Face set in a grim smile, his plane continues its work. A small pile of
shavings grows as Aelitan switches to the other end of the stave.

"When the daylight came, I heard my father trying to silently pack and
leave. I gathered my things and snuck out into the main room. My father
came around the corner from the pantry, and stopped when he saw me, a
shocked look on his face."

There is a long pause as the plane removes still more of the strange wood.
It is clear that this will be a handsome bow. The limbs are stout and
long. Gentle curves speak of power within the wood. Finally, Aelitan sets
the stave across his knees. He picks up the tin left by the fire. As he
removes the cover, the shape of a honeycomb can be seen. The heat-softened
beeswax glistens in the shifting light. Aelitan removes a small piece and
rolls it in his hands. Then he begins rubbing the wax into the wood,
letting the warmth of his hands work the wax into the grain.

"I suppose I feared he would be angry that I was out of bed. I did not
expect him to laugh. He said 'Boy, what are ye doing awake so early?' I
said 'I go with you to protect you for mother.' He grabbed me up and went
over to his favorite chair. He sat me down on his lap and said: 'You are
my son, that is certain! Lad, I go where ye cannot. I know that ye want
to go with me, and someday ye will. But not today.' I was hurt that I
could not go. Then he said 'I have a duty more important for you than any
other, and ye must promise that ye will do it for me.'"

Aelitan holds the stave at an angle to the light, watching the fire reflect
in the limbs. Satisfied, he sets down the stave and reaches into his kit
again. This time he pulls out a length of shiny cord. He takes some more
of the beeswax and begins to work it into the cord. The shadows play
across Aelitan's face, looking like a torrent of emotions.

My father said 'Your mother is the thing I hold most dear in the whole
world. I may be gone for a long time. I need ye to keep her safe for me.
I am entrusting ye with the only thing I have in life that I cannot live
without.' I looked him in the eye and said 'I will do it.'"

The cord has absorbed as much beeswax as it will. Aelitan loops one end of
the cord into a notch at one end of the stave, then stands up. He uses his
legs as braces while he begins to flex the stave into an arc, moving the
other end of the string into position above the other notch. There is a
soft creak as the wood protests.

"He looked hard at me for a minute, then set me down. He got up, grabbed
his pack, and went to the door. He opened the door, and turned before he
was all the way out. My father said 'I'll take your word on that, lad,'
and then shut the door behind him. I never saw my father again."

There is a loud CRACK as the bow stave gives way under the pressure and is
snapped asunder. Aelitan is knocked to the ground as his weight loses the
support of the stave. Slowly, he stands up and gathers the pieces of his labor.

"Tunare has seen fit to reward failure with failure. I am done with the telling for tonight."

Aelitan casts the pieces into the waiting fire. The flames rise up as the
strange wood and wax feed them. When the flames begin to subside, Aelitan is gone.