Cael Idhien

Character sheet

Description
Lean of build and long of face, Cael is fair-skinned and sharp-featured. High cheekbones and pointed ears frame eyes of pale jade flecked with gray, while hair the color of sun-bleached straw falls freely to his shoulders. At well over six feet tall, the elf stands a head above most men. Moving with a measured grace that defies his size, he carries himself with the quietconfidence of a veteran solider.

Foregoing the voluminous robes so often favored by practitioners of the Art, Cael's well-worn and earth-toned attire has a threadbare, utilitarian charm. He wears a hooded and cowled vest over a shirt of fine mithral chain, a heavy linen tunic with wide three-quarter sleeves, and long pants tucked into sturdy, high leather boots. A distinctly elven blade -- narrow and gently recurved -- hangs easily in a scabbard on his hip.

Personality
Slow to trust, but quick to befriend, members of the Simbul's guard know Cael to be plain-speaking, pragmatic, and consistently even-tempered. Never one to complain, nor burden others with problems that are his alone, his affable manner is punctuated by a dark, and often pessimistic, sense of humor. As one who always tries to make the best of every situation, recent events have tested his spirits. Forced to choose between his family and his country, guilt has driven him to abandon his duties as a member of the Simbul's Guard in order to learn the truth of his sister's alleged betrayal.

Background
Cael was born in Thay, but not as a Thayan. His parents were members of the West Winds, a network of rebels and abolitionists who aided fugitive slaves in their escape to Aglarond. From a dozen posts hidden along the eastern slopes of the Tannath Mountains, they guided runaways through the Shyvar pass on the final leg of their journey to freedom.

Cael's father was a talented ranger, his mother, a sorceress of considerable skill, and though the conditions were less than ideal, together they raised Cael and his younger sister, Liara, as best any parents could. They taught their children to be independent and resourceful; how to survive, and how to outsmart their enemies. But it was the lifestyle itself, and the nature of the family's work, that bred a certain endurance of will and strength of character that no parent could ever teach.

For the better part of a century, Cael's family of freedom fighters managed to remain one step ahead of Thayan patrols. In total, they helped nearly 500 slaves escape the tyranny of the Zulkirs, and in so doing, earned themselves a reputation among friend and foe alike.

In 1341, Cael and his family attempted to smuggle an injured Aglarondan spy across the border, unaware of the fact that the Thayans had purposefully allowed the spy to live. The Red Wizards followed him into the Tannaths, and when he united with Cael's family, the trap was sprung. No less than a hundred gnolls descended upon their camp, hastened by the magic of their masters.

Recognizing that there would be no escaping so large a host, Cael's father led his family and their pursuers deeper into the mountains. He knew these slopes well, and when he had drawn the gnolls into a narrow pass, he told his children he loved them, and then charged the enemy lines. There could be no greater sacrifice, yet Cael's mother understood that alone, it would not be enough. She told Cael to look after his sister, and then turned to follow his father.

Three days later, a griffonrider scout on routine patrol came upon two elves and a wounded man, all three overcome by exhaustion and delirious with thirst. The scout was a young half-elf named Hovor Seawind, and upon recognizing the man as one of his own, saw to it that both he and the elves were safely returned to Aglarond.

Once he recovered, the wounded spy shared the story of his rescue with his superiors. Cael and Liara were treated like heroes. They were given an apartment, clean clothes, and a stipend for food. Feasts were hosted in their honor, and the family of the man they saved offered them anything that was within their means to give. Cael and Liara endured these things and more, for while the Aglarondan's intended well, their honors served only to prolong the sibling's suffering.

Months passed as brother and sister grieved. Liara took things especially hard, at times refusing to eat; at others, to speak. Not only did they have to come to terms with the death of their parents, but so too did they have to adjust to life in a bustling metropolis. It was terribly overwhelming at first, but Lieutenant Seawind sympathized with the young elves, and he did whatever he could to ease their transition. So it was that Cael and Seawind fast became friends, and it was not long before the promising young officer had convinced Cael to enlist in Aglarond's army. It would be a distraction, he said, an outlet through which to channel the pain and anguish of his loss. At a time when it seemed Cael might wallow in his sorrow for years, it would provide the structure that Cael's life so desperately required.

Liara objected vehemently to Cael's decision. She had lost enough already, and could not bear the thought of losing her brother as well. Cael could not be dissuaded, however, and his training commenced almost immediately.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cael excelled in his military service. He had a natural talent for magic, and his intimate knowledge of the Tannath Mountains proved invaluable to the members of his unit. In many ways, he'd been fighting this war his entire life; all the Aglarondans needed to do was give him a uniform.

It seemed a cruel twist of fate that just as Cael was beginning to turn things around for himself, Liara was sinking deeper and deeper into depression. She became an alcoholic, and when liquor was no longer enough to dull her pain, she turned to drugs. Tekkil was her drug of choice, and with it came the company of dealers and other users. Liara's became a familiar face to members of Velprintalar's city watch, and though her past deeds had earned her some measure of good will, the guards could only turn a blind eye so many times.

Cael did whatever he could to keep his sister out of trouble, but as he climbed the ranks within the military, his deployments became increasingly longer. What little time he had to spend with Liara likewise became increasingly frustrating and discouraging. When a newly promoted High Captain Hovor Seawind handpicked Cael as a member of the Simbulmyn, what few opportunities Cael had to spend with his sister disappeared almost entirely. Although he would never admit it, at times, he was glad for it.

Twenty-two months ago, Cael was recalled early from a two-year assignment in Thesk. Evidently, while he was away, his sister had been observed, on multiple occasions, keeping the company of known agents of Thay. When Aglarondan forces finally moved in to capture the Thayans, Liara defended them, fatally stabbing an Aglarondan soldier in the neck with a shard of glass. The Thayan agents ultimately escaped, and so too did Liara. Cael was recalled to take part in the investigation, but even with his help, she was never seen nor heard from again, until...


 * Cael knocked twice on the heavy wooden door. While the portal was slightly ajar, and a warm light shown through the opening, the elven arcanist was not one to betray propriety.


 * "Yes, yes. Come in." The voice from the other side was gruff, officious and irritated, but it was the voice of High Captain Hovor Seawind and Cael entered immediately, shutting the door behind him.


 * At the far end of the room, Captain Seawind sat behind a formidable desk, hurriedly flipping through a stack of papers as he signed the bottoms of each. The half-elf cut an imposing figure, and as commander of both the Simbulmyn and Aglarond's elite griffonriders, none but the Simbul herself held greater authority within these wall than he. Even while seated, Hovor Seawind dominated the room.


 * With his hands clasped behind his back, Cael stood at attention, silent and motionless. The captain had yet to look up from his work, and for a time, the only sound to be heard was the frenzied scratching of his quill.


 * One minute passed--two--then three. Rolling his eyes, Cael leaned forward and cleared his throat so loudly that the commander's quill ran off the edge of the page. Seawind said nothing, but his eyes flashed like daggers towards his elven subordinate. Where there had been relative quiet before, there was a perfect, suffocating silence now, as though a clenched fist had squeezed all sound from the room.


 * Boldly, Cael held his commander's gaze for what felt like hours, until finally Hovor's harsh glare began to crumble, his clenched jaw relaxing as his mouth yielded a narrow grin and finally a warm smile. Cael's stern expression deteriorated in kind, and together, the pair burst into hearty laughter.


 * Setting his quill on the table with an emphatic slap of his hand, the senior ranking, but hardly elder Simbulmyn commander rose to his feet and stepped around the side of the desk to greet his friend of nearly 30 years. Grasping each others' forearms, the two joined in a vigorous handshake as their laughter subsided.


 * "I was informed of your return this morning," Hovor said warmly, as though somewhat relieved. "I have your debriefing report here somewhere, but I haven't had a chance to look it over. I take it everything went well in Laothkund?"


 * "Well enough, I suppose," Cael shrugged. "The Thayans made their move by the docks -- dressed as fishermen, if you can believe it. Gods, the smell," he shuddered in jest. "Every damned crew was unloading their catch at once, it was far too crowded for us to take prisoners." He waived a hand, as if to preemptively dismiss his captain's disappointment. "They were given cleaner deaths than they deserved."


 * Hovor nodded in silent understanding. "I'm sorry about all this, by the way," he said abruptly, taking a deep, tired breath as he glanced back over of his shoulder at the mess of documents covering his desk. "The Sons of Hoar grow bolder by the day. They are becoming more trouble than their businesses are worth."


 * Cael smiled. "Those Hoarsons!"


 * "Ho! Don't get me started," Seawind chuckled in response, resisting the urge to surrender himself to another fit of laughter as he turned and stepped toward his desk.


 * "Can I help in any way?"


 * "Oh, I'm sure you could," Hovor rifled through one of the piles of paper as he continued, "but that's not why I called you here." With a mumbled aha, the captain turned back around, holding a thin sheet of parchment through which Cael could clearly make out a bright orange insignia -- the Simbul's personal mark.


 * Cael cocked a curious eyebrow. "Surely you don't need the Simbul to approve my well-earned vacation?" he quipped.


 * Hovor didn't so much as smile.
 * The elf tried again. "...your well-earned vacation?"


 * The commander sighed before he spoke. "We received word yesterday." Any sign of mirth or merriment was gone from his voice now and he wore the expression of a man who had never laughed in his entire life. "I thought it best that you hear the news from me first."


 * "Sir?" The arcanist could not remember the last time he addressed his friend and captain so formally. But he felt suddenly uncomfortable now -- nervous, even -- and he fell back on protocol.


 * "There's no easy way for me to say this." Seawind could not meet the elf's eyes as he stepped forward and handed him the sheet of paper. "We found Liara."


 * "I...Silverhand....Chosen Seven....Queen...." Cael held the parchment in an unsteady hand, trying to read the words faster than he could understand their meaning. "...sentence....death....crime...treason." He hung his head and dropped the paper to the floor. "Where?" was all he could manage, in a voice as faint as a ghost's footsteps.


 * "Raven's Bluff," the captain answered softly. "To think she was so close..." He tried to smile, but thought better of it. "If it hasn't happened already, it's only a matter of days. I'm sorry, Cael." Swallowing the lump in his throat, Seawind backed away and turned toward a small cabinet set against the wall. From inside, he removed two glasses and a bottle of his finest whiskey. He poured a splash in each, then, after a moment's consideration, filled one almost to the brim.


 * Cael hadn't moved when Seawind turned back. His head still hung against against his chest. "This will dull the pain, my friend. Trust me." He reached out to hand Cael the greater portion, but the glass passed right through the elf's palm. Hovor looked up immediately. The door to his office was open. Cael was gone.