Island in the Mist
Half-elf mage with a bit of ranger
I was born and grew up living in a pocket. I heard about magic from my elf father, who is a storyteller. My father’s great curiosity led him to travel away from his family in the elf city, to experience other places and collect their tales.
My great, great grandfather, a famous wizard, ran a school for magic. After his death and the disbandment of the school by the Cassians, his son started a secret society dedicated to preserving elven magical traditions. Since magical aptitude ran strongly in their family, several of my father’s relatives became involved over the years, including his sister, with whom he was very close. My father’s family ties got me admitted as a trainee after I showed interest.
Most of the members felt that my talent for magic outweighed my half-human heritage, but others opposed teaching elvish magic to a half-human. In addition, the society had become uneasy about actively practicing magic even in secret, fearing detection. They valued the study of magic over performing it. My love of using magic, coupled with my parentage (and I’m sure my low Cha didn’t help) earned me an enemy in the inner circle, who sabotaged me in the final tests for initiation into the society. Although I could have stayed and continued training, my patience had worn thin, and my welcome had worn out with the more conservative members. I chose to leave the city and the society to practice magic freely in the mists.