Cassian Selendrîr

It’s only been a few years since I found the tome. That damned tome.
I’m not entirely sure whether my life’s taken a turn for the better or worse
since, but one thing’s for sure…
It’s changed every aspect of my life, and I suspect it’s only the beginning.

Elves come in all shapes and sizes, but we are mostly distinguished by our
ancestors' allegiance during the War of the Seldarine. The sun’s nurture or
the Underdark’s oppression. Now, I said most, as a precious few of us decided
never to choose. We witnessed the atrocities and brutality of Lolth, and in response, some of us who were fated to
live in the Underdark, rejected her corrupting influence and remained untainted.
Or, at least that’s what the stories say.

Centuries ago, those few Drow ventured north and founded Callidae, our frozen fortress buried deep beneath the
frigid landscape of the Dale. There, we’ve dwelled ever since. Secluded. Ignored. Safe.

Over time, we were influenced by something cosmic, the aurora seeping through the ice. The twinkling of stars, and
ebb and flow of the northern lights left an indelible mark on our skin, giving rise to our new moniker, the
Aevendrow, or starlight elves in the common tongue. Though we may be untainted, the aurora remains the closest
most of us have come to sunlight in centuries…

As a half-blood, my aurora may glow dimly, but I cherish it nonetheless. There aren’t many of us around, and even
fewer half-bloods, given our clandestine existence. We don’t exactly invite many in, and few who discover our
existence can be trusted to live to tell the tale. Most adventurers who chance upon us, end up settling in Callidae or
becoming envoys, covertly aiding the Dale in any way they see fit.

As Aevendrow, we excavate beneath the ice and unearth many a relic lost to the frost. Among them was a tome,
and a black gem-studded vambrace, impeccably preserved in the ice. Thawing it took what seemed like an eternity,
and at first, I couldn’t even read the text of the tome. Some sort of cipher obscured the arcane runes contained
within. As I burned the midnight oil studying the tome one night, a voice beckoned me, nothing more than a
whisper carried by the frigid breeze…
By instinct alone, I echoed the whisper…

…” Mythallar” …
As soon as the word escaped my lips, the veil covering my eyes was lifted as visions of an empire lost to time
flooded my mind, and I beheld the spelltome of one J’hara, allegedly a Netherese mage. To this day, I still can’t
read the entire tome, but it seems that every day the tome reveals a few more of its vast secrets to me, blank pages
suddenly filled with formulas I swear were not there the day before. Although I've never possessed exceptional
arcane prowess, reading fragments of the tome awakened a spark within me. As I borrow the lost words contained
within, an intense chill emanates from the Chardalyn gemstone, embedded in the bracer, and the aurora flashes
beneath my skin momentarily as the spell is unleashed and I’m left wondering, once again, what exactly I just did.
… And when I might read the next page.

In light of this newfound power, I’ve decided to become an envoy and leave Callidae. A fair few of us have as of
late. Even as Drow, we’d never wish this oppressive twilight upon anyone else. While we might not yet be worthy
of witnessing Corellon’s light ourselves, as evidenced by the fact that not a single of our clerics have heard the
calling since time immemorial, that does not mean others should be deprived of the same.

Personality Traits surface I’ve only read about. Seeing them in person
has me hungry for new experiences.
There’s plenty to see beneath the ice, dangers to face,
and creatures to befriend. But most places on the

1
 Life in as closeknit a community as Callidae has left Ten-Towners survive Auril’s brutal winter, but my
me loyal to a fault. My loyalty is not easily earned, fledgling aspirations of grandeur tell me I could do so
however. much more. I'd like to believe that my actions stem
solely from altruism, but with every layer of ice
Ideals brought on by the rime, the Aevendrow become
further separated from the surface. How many
Change. The gods only keep watch as we struggle.
blizzards before we are forever sealed away, lost and
We need to be the ones to enact the change we want
forgotten by time?
to see in our lifetime.
Might. I’ve recently come to realize that power
begets change. With more power, I could force the
winds of change in our direction… in my direction.

Bonds
I value J’hara’s spelltome beyond rationality, and I
shudder to think of what I’d do without it. I still hear
her whisper on the winds every now and again, like
the seductive call of a siren, urging me onwards,
beckoning me towards something I have yet to
uncover.
There are few things I wouldn’t do to help or protect
my people in Callidae or my fellow envoys around
the Ten-Towns. None more so than Torihn, a distant
cousin who decided to take up the mantle of an envoy
at my side. Last I heard, he was heading up North
towards Caer-Dineval.
While I find her a touch overwhelming, I've grown to
appreciate the fiery spirit of Imdra, the commander of
Easthaven. I can tell that she wears her heart on her
sleeve, even if she'd never admit it, and I see the
devotion to my own people mirrored in hers.

Flaws
I am often conflicted between the secrecy of my
people and the caring heart beating in my chest, torn
between what is right and what is necessary.
As some Aevendrow do, I have a tell that reveals
when I lie, as the starlight just beneath my skin
increases ever so slightly in intensity. It’s hard to
pick up on, but I wouldn’t bet on myself in a game of
cards.

Goals and Motivation

In the short term, I would like to help even just a few