Andilaene Holimion (Diamonddew) was born on the isle of Sarifel, known to humankind as Gwynneth, in the Moonshae Isles (around 700 miles south-west of Waterdeep).
 
Her father, Rogen Pearyer, was a human diplomat assigned to the court of the High Lady Orlarf in support of a petition to gain consent to reclaim and rebuild the ruins of Caer Corwell. These negotiations were protracted and delicate, complicated by the mystery of why humans had any interest in the location at all.
 
Nanthyliene Holimion was a priestess of the Seldarine, and honoured Solonor Thelandira (the elven god of hunting, archery and survival). They met casually when Rogen joined a hunting party as an invited guest by the elves, and he was smitten by the ethereal beauty of the wood elf, as she was intrigued by the unusually wise and demure human. Their romance was brief, but intense, and Nanthyliene’s pregnancy the result of their one intimate dalliance.
 
Regrettably, a key diplomatic figure with an illegitimate and mixed-race child was deemed greatly detrimental to the political interests and, when Rogen refused to acknowledge he was the father, Nanthyliene’s clan declared the effrontery akin to rape, and attacked the embassy. They were beaten back by the human’s dwarven allies, but there were significant casualties on both side, and Lady Orlarf declared the situation untenable and decreed that both humans and dwarves were to be banished from the island. The dwarves, inducted into a conflict not of their making, did not take this well and prepared to retaliate.
 
Fearing for the life of her child, Nanthyliene fled her home and took refuge with the druids of Myrloch Vale, who harboured her in secrecy through childbirth and weaning. But, with the isle in uproar and teetering on the brink of war, Nanthyliene decided to flee for the mainland, arriving on the northern shores of Amn.
 
With a newborn on her arm and her only possessions those she could carry, Nanthyliene decided that prudence was the best course – living mostly off the land, taking refuge in forests whenever possible, and only occasionally spending short periods in villages or small towns to make a little money as a healer or sage, she drifted north, faithfully tending to her worship of Solonor. By remaining isolatedas much as possible, and never staying in one place for very long, her daughter grew up knowing journeying and independence as fundamental to survival.
 
But, while being ever transient and fending for themselves taught Andilaene to be a capable hunter and, as she came of age, even begin to manifest Solonor’s blessing as magical power, her only knowledge of people where those few she came into contact with for the short times spent in small rural communities. To Andilaene, every new place and every new person was a strange new wonder, but her distinctive elven heritage and accent, as well as negligible experience with social interactions, clearly marked her as a foreigner everywhere.
 
The wilds, the woods, and isolation were “home” to Andilaene, so when her mother was fatally wounded by a hippogriff, with nobody in the vicinity to assist, she was left completely adrift.
 
Realising the foolhardy danger of remaining alone in the wilderness, Andilaene wandered aimlessly for almost a year, holding true to her devotion to Solonor, but never able to settle well into a community.
 
For the past few weeks, she has been in the town of Oakhurst, tending to the odd injury or earning a few coins playing traditional elven tunes on her zither, but the itch to move on is becoming, as usual, unbearable.