While in meditation it came to mind that both my past and present should be recorded for further self reflection, so I might see how I have grown. I will start at the beginning.

Both Mother and Father were moon elves, a pair which I am told looked well together, but had little substance behind their copulation. My Mother told me time and time again, the story which I will write now. In the very early stages of her pregnancy she saw fit to travel to a spring of great beauty, which she had often told me she visited in her childhood, so she might find peace with herself in the springs cool waters. The well known path that she traveled, however, was not safe on this particular day. My dear mother was waylaid by a group of brigands, humans and half orcs among them and they restrained her for reasons I will not mentioned. Before these horrible men could take what they sought however, they themselves were waylaid by a man in shining silver and black armor.

The man made short work of them and knelt at my mother's side. She suffered only bruises and mental trauma, both which were forgotten when she gazed into the eyes of the human man who had rescued her. She tells me that was the moment when she finally felt peace in the world. She told me he carried her the rest of the way to the spring, and together they spent their day there in self reflection. It was in this time that a dangerous plan was born. My mother felt love for this man like she had never felt love for my father, despite the stubble on his face, and he of course could not help but fall for my lovely Mother.

My Mother never returned to her home. She went with this human paladin to his human city, where they could live out his years together. As it turned out this man was a servant to Jergal, the Lord of Death. Long hours of many days he spent, showing my Mother his beliefs. I do not know if it was what he said, or simply the allure of someone believing in something so strongly, that converted her to his faith. Perhaps it was simply her love for him, she never told me which.

It came to the point where my mothers pregnancy began to show, and she gave her lover this news with a heavy heart. He met the news with great joy however, and when I was born he treated me as his own daughter, though one look at me would clearly show him I was not of such mixed bloodlines.

My Stepfather taught me many things, and from an early age he taught me of his faith. I was fascinated with almost anything he told me, for I was an intellectual child, always seeking to make greater connections with the information I was told. At times living int he human city was difficult for me, I found that everything before me moved to fast and I had trouble making friends among my human peers, for they matured quickly. There were a few others of elfin blood, but I did not make much of an effort to befriend them to be honest. I was a shy child, as I am now a shy adult and it suited me just find to spend my long hours reading or in contemplation.

As a young person with such interests, I aspired towards monkhood in my Stepfather's church. My lovely Mother was of course very proud, and my Stepfather seemed to be even more so. It is a rare thing to have the full support of your loved ones, and I cherished that support dearly. Once I was of age I joined them, spending even more of my time in meditation and thought. I learned the importance of self, and believing in ones self to strengthen the will. I also learned a great deal about combat. My entire body became a weapon and I trained hard to keep it sharp. At this time I was tattooed. The fairy for my lovely Mother, the skull for my Stepfather, and the scythe for Lord Jergal himself.

I was very young when my Stepfather died. Of course he could never have lived to see me grown, being he was human but knowing that did not make my mothers grief or mine any less real. She did not become cold though, as many Mothers do after such happenings. She still gave me her full support and loved me maybe even more, for she had no one else to give that love to now.

It was not long after my hundredth birthday that my fate took a drastic turn. I was riding with a caravan to a nearby city so that I might see the new library it was rumored they had built there. On this path, our caravan passed close to a mountain, and I can only imagine that somewhere along that mountain is where they came from. Drow slavers waylaid the caravan and we fought back whole heartedly, fearing the dark skinned elves more than any monster. Our efforts yeilded only one drow corpse, and half of our own number lay dead. The rest of us were bound and gagged, and then everything went dark.