Elios Dahast
Elios Dahast
Elios Dahast is an elven wizard from thousands of years into the future. Once a wizard of such renown, his name was spoken in the same circles with the likes of Elminster and Mordenkainen. He was believed to be a Chosen of Mystra due to his aptitude for magic, but he never claimed such a title. It was the change in societal elven culture that helped him focus his effots and tackle the notoriously difficult subsection of time-related magic.
One of the strongest wizards ever known; his name was spoken among the likes of Elminster and Mordenkainen. He specializes in Time-based magic, and a cataclysmic mishap sent him hurdling back in time to now...
View Character Profile
Alignment
Neutral Good
Age
1800+
Date of Birth
Unknown
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Green
Hair
Silver
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Slightly Pale
Height
6'
Weight
168
I hate people.
We arrived in Bryn Shander after a few more days of travel from my last entry. Little happened in the in between, thus the lack of writing. I don't see the point in making entries for every single day if nothing of note occurs. Moving on, I have begun to feel some small amount of my former power return to me, only to lose it the next day. I cannot say for certain whether the cause is due in some part to the spell that sent me here, or if perhaps this is more of Mystra's meddling. Only time will tell. (I slay me.)
Finally, we arrived at the "Jewel of Ten Towns" only to find it.. wanting. At least, I did. The only institution of "learning" the locals could direct me to is the local church; one dedicated to the Morning Lord, as it were. The irony made me laugh. These people lean so heavily upon their "deities", and are blind to the fact that they do not care. Honestly, the sun has been blotted out by this rime for close to 2 years now, and yet still they worship this god of the sun? What sun? What is your god doing to help you? Nothing. But you lack the courage and will to get through life without using blind faith as a crutch. Well, whatever. I had hoped to be able to spend some time in a library and pour through some books when I got here for information, but even this "jewel" of civilization is devoid of archived knowledge. I pity the children who are born here.
We decided as a group to go visit the local tavern/inn. I do not remember the name, though Brighid referred to it as "Rock Tits" and that seems easier to remember for some reason. I spoke with a local Speaker - a person who voices the decisions of the city council, it seems - and the local sheriff. Neither was particularly friendly, but the Speaker was quite attractive. As we drank through the night to relax after all that had happened on our journey here, I tried my hand at wooing the Speaker. The decision had come to me that I may not return to my home for a very long time, if at all, and I might as well make the most of my time here. Why not seek the comfort of company in a warm bed?
Except I am apparently shit at it. I have been with my wife for so long, I have forgotten how to properly proposition a woman. I failed spectacularly, and even one of the elven brothers attempted to come to my aid and help me, though it helped little. At least, in my case. He seemed to do just fine with his attempt at securing company.
It is an odd experience, explaining to Maple about the intricacies of how the world works. Government, money, bartering, and the like. He seems to understand well enough. Other than his need to be planted every night, he seems to make a fine traveling companion. We have found the person he was meant to deliver his letter to, and they seem to be found at the Church of the Morning Lord. I will accompany him tomorrow in hopes of gleaming some useful information, though I don't have high hopes. Perhaps they can direct me to a druid circle to find some Moon-something berries that some girl had asked of us. I don't know why she thinks some strangers who know nothing of this town or region could locate some kind of magic fruit that the locals could not, but people are idiots. Hm. It does all feel very nostalgic, however. Almost like reliving my youth when I was an adventurer in truth, and not.. whatever this is now.
Jumping into the F(r)ey
There has been strange occurrences going on about this caravan of people I have fallen in with. I suppose I should note these people down as well, if nothing else save for posterity's sake. There are two other elves that we picked up along the way, named Verenir and Valdyr Aenorin. They seem to be of some import from Silverymoon. They talk about it frequently. One wants to come off as quiet and brooding, but breaks his own facade quite often and easily. The other is a.. I want to say a paladin of some type, but I do not believe he has yet taken an oath. Young yet, the both of them, even for elves. There has been an awoken tree following us for a few days now, and we have come to call it "Maple" for the time being, seeing as it is a maple tree. And lastly a pair of dwarves. Brighid Battlehammer, of Bruenor Battlehammer's line. She's.. quite attractive, once you look past the beard. And some shit she's "betrothed" to, I don't recall his name. Baram, or some such? Of an insignificant family line.
As previously stated, strange sightings and happenings have been going on, and our little band of "security" as it were began investigating, so that we might continue apace and out of this hellish blizzard that has seen us suck here for a time. There were various faces of our companions "marked" into the tree somehow. They were not carved, and yet not of magical affect, either. In reflection, it seems the work of fey magic manipulating the trees to form such shapes within their bark, likely a tactic to scare or intimidate their prey. Unfortunately, they mistakenly chose to cross a powerful wizard such as myself. Whilst I do profess myself a master of Time magic, I am not without my repertoire of utility spells as well; Create Bonfire amongst them. A simple spell, but effective nonetheless and quite invaluable in this frozen expanse.
In searching for answers, we were happened upon by 3 lame, half-frozen wolves. Surely my attention must have been elsewhere for them to have gotten so close without our notice until they were already upon us. I know not what excuse the others may profess for their lack of attention. I mean, there's not a mage among them. The unnamed dwarf is a cleric of some sort, I believe, but given they receive their spells from deities and need not prepare them in advance, I don't believe that is an acceptable excuse. After we dispatched the wolves, we followed a trail into a cave full of frost sprite-like creatures. They were certainly fey in origin, and I deduced that the cave we entered was actually a tear in the veil between worlds, and connected this realm to the Feywild. Just as well, we cleared the sprites away, finding the human girl that was missing, as well as the remains of a human we lost earlier. We also took a frost-rimed chest before leaving the cave in a hurry. Seems some more powerful fey didn't appreciate us destroying her sentries and started to come after us.
In the wake of our exodus, the entranced caved in behind us (See what I did there? Yes, I'm aware this is my private journal...) and closed off the entrance to the Feywild. For the best, really. We found the storm had passed on once we exited, and I believe the cause to be the disconnect from the Fey magics that had been pouring into this area. The sun still is not visible, but it seemingly hasn't been for some time. An odd occurrence I will need to look into. For now, we continue on towards Ten Towns. The only passable form of "civilization" that can be found in the Dale. My chances of crossing anyone intelligent to carry on a conversation with is.. marginal.
Betrayal
Some time during 1492
I know not what exactly happened during my meeting with the Quorum, but I have a strong idea.
I have found myself thrown back into the past. Thousands of years prior to my casting of Time Release, as I have named it. My clothes are different. My equipment gone and replaced with.. trinkets. My spell book... is the same as the one I carried in my youth, though pristine and untarnished. More sadly than that... it is empty. Save for a few fundamental 1st level spells, all of my former spells are gone. My repository of magic wiped out. The anger I posses at Her for interfering. I knew. I knew this would happen. But, right now, my survival is more important. I have "thankfully" been place in the path of a group of travelers with a wagon. The region is bitterly cold, and these "new" robes aren't as.. helpful as my old ones. The caravan agreed to give me passage along with them, in exchange for my services, as it were. While I have not the martial prowess as some of the men and women already accompanying the group, they lack for spellcasters among them. My ability to create a bonfire at will was a boon that they marveled at. I seem to be in the region of Icewind Dale, some.. 100 years or so after the incident with the Crystal Shard. I'm not unfamiliar with the story, as it was a part of my readings into Drow histories some time after the great rejoining of our species. Somehow, I doubt even the great Drizzt Do'urden would be able to help me in my current predicament. He is, after all, merely a ranger.
I'm almost positive now, that the one who interfered with my magic was none other than Mystra herself, Goddess of Magic. Yes... for centuries now, I have been given accolades and called a Chosen of Mystra, though I had not seen her before in my life. Indeed, I expected not. Save for those daughters whose births changed their lineage, almost all of Mystra's chosen has been human. Perhaps she has an issue with elves. Maybe the gods have issue with the way the elves have come together as one peoples, and began to live with the passion and vigor as the short-lived races. We've accomplished so much. We've become the greatest masters of everything we've put our minds to. And with our long lives, will only get better, while the experienced amongst the other races will die off, and their offspring will be afforded no chance to catch up to us. Yes, I believe this is how the world is supposed to be.
I must regain my magic, and find a way to return home. If not.. I may need to start a new life here, and start over. Perhaps this time I shall be the one to unify the race, and lead us towards the glorious future our people deserve.
The End of the Beginning
Eleint 20 3267 DR
I feel as if all of my life has come to this. A long life, spanning over a thousand years. I have seen the world change in such amazing and wondrous ways. When I was in my youth, I studied in cloistered universities; small repositories of knowledge of which I was woefully ignorant. It would be quite some time before I found out just how much, alas. Wars amongst the short-lived races have all but vanished, mostly. The catalyst, I believe, was the rebirth of elven philosophy. The elven race was slow to repopulate, and slower still to change our ways. It was not an overnight change; not by any means, but one that needed to happen all the same.
It wasn’t until She made us open our eyes, and really see the rest of the world that we came to understand what plagued us as a species. Long-lived as we were, we only spectated the lives of those around us - seeing them born, age, and die over and over again. How then, with their short lives, did these races come to contribute as much to the world at large as they did? When one of us could easily live 10 of their lifetimes, how did they come to affect the world so? It was because they were short lived. While a great many elves value the art of spell craft and knowledge, that is not, or was not, all that we are or were. Not all that we were known for. Elven craftsmanship was always known far and wide for its beauty, and was highly coveted. Elven architecture inspired awe across every race on the planet. And yet… we were always behind. All of our breathtaking structures were “ancient” by others’ standards. Where were the “modern day” craftsmen of our time? Ah, yes. Time. Time was the problem. What was the rush to do anything, to such long-lived people? What’s the hurry to write a book, or construct a building, or forge a new weapon, when years were as months to others. An unfelt lethargy had gripped our people since our progenitors, and only now - after it was laid bare before our faces - did we realize it. How grand could the elven race be, if we had the drive of the shorter-lived? Not thinking of would-be children in the next hundred years, but tomorrow? Not viewing the world as a footpath through a well-traveled glade, but a mad dash through a sandstorm of an unforgiving desert?
It had been long in coming, but we changed. My parents, were they alive now, would have told me such a changing of the elven world would be akin to the world itself coming undone at its seams. And yet we have come. I have come to see elven culture thrive and flourish, not just among the races that walk the planet, but within the halls of grand cities the size of countries that course through the sky made possible by elven ingenuity. Our numbers rival that of the most populous races. Our architecture and influence can be found the world over. Our exports are traded and bartered for in any city or town worth visiting. We have finally released ourselves from the shackles of apathy and inactivity that Time had placed upon us.
I reminisce sometimes about my younger days. Thousands of years ago, long before our Enlightenment - for that is what it was - I traveled with a party of allies as we fancied ourselves ‘adventurers’. So long ago I would never dream I would be where I am today, or even that such a shift in the world was possible. I sleep within one of the highest spires of the floating city of Zeal, watch the sun rise on half the planet, and work on a daily basis with magicks so powerful as to reshape the world. I sometimes wish I could send my younger self a message - just something to say that everything gets better. That the pain and hurt you endure will pay dividends in the end. That the world you fought for comes to fruition.
Ah, but I suppose I have rattled on for quite some length now. Sleep is of the utmost importance to me now, as I have a meeting with the Quorum tomorrow that could be the key to everything. I believe I have devised a spell, that, if done correctly, could free the entire world from the shackles of time itself. People with incurable illness could be suspended forever until a cure was developed. No longer would any race die from old age. The applications - and dangers, I admit - are simply unfathomable; the potential limitless! I need but present my discovery to the Quorum, and my family will be taken care of for literally eternity. Not I nor my wife and children ever need be without ever again. Never shall I ever want for seeing this beautiful sunrise ever again. I look forward to celebrating the Equinox with my family after the presentation is over...
