Chapter One
"And that, child, was the day I looked the Lady Vox in the eye," Gwyden concluded.
The bright-eyed child snuggled against him was enthralled. Dariana thrilled in her father's stories, and the one about the dragon in her icy lair was a favorite. She often pictured her father-hero, fists flying, single-handedly taking down a dragon, or a Lizardman, or some other fantastically vile creature. The girl was but a slip of white-haired delicacy next to her broad-shouldered father, but her adoration was clear when she begged him to "Tell it again!"
Even at this age, Dariana wanted nothing more than to travel, travel far away and see exotic places and learn new things, just like her father. Although he no longer fought in great battles, Gwyden often did travel for more peaceful business, and when he was needed in the nearby city of Felwithe he sometimes brought his little girl along with him. When Gwyden was gone on longer trips, Dari often played in the forest, pretending she was a great wanderer, discovering new paths and forgotten lands. Dariana loved the Faydark dearly, but the seed of wanderlust in her heart was planted at birth, and it never withered.
As she grew older, she sometimes ran to Felwithe alone on errands for her father. It was on one of these errands that she learned her first real lesson in traveling: racial prejudice. She'd paid a local high elf merchant for his goods, and as she turned to leave she heard him mutter a mostly unintelligible phrase. She did catch the word "Fizzlethorpe" though, and turned back with a smile to ask the merchant to repeat himself. But when she saw the sneer on his face, she was taken aback. "He thinks I am a bandit!" she realized, "a... thief!" and fled the store.
It was not to be the only time her mixed heritage was met with disdain in Felwithe, although it never seemed to happen when she was there with her father. None dared disdain the only child of Grandmaster Gwyden Moondancer to his face. Dariana never told her father of the prejudicial treatment she occasionally received – after all, most of the high elves greeted her as warmly as any other – although she was sure he was aware of the general sentiment.
As she grew, Dariana also displayed a great interest in her mother's stories; not tales of travel and adventure, but of legends and myths. Lodak Moondancer knew not only the common tales of their wood elf heritage, but the nearly-forgotten stories of ages ago, when the gods roamed Norrath and seemed to be involved in everything; stories of creation and destruction, of love and revenge, of races and civilizations that Dariana would never see. One of Lodak's lifetime projects was writing these legends down so that they would never be forgotten, and Dariana often quietly assisted her mother with this task.
Indeed, the young half-elf's hunger for travel was matched by her thirst for knowledge. In addition to memorizing every story her parents had to tell, she also apprenticed her mother in her duties as a high priestess of Tunare. For Lodak was an accomplished mystic; many of the wood elves of the Faydark came to their cottage for healing and advice of all kinds. When not helping her mother, Dariana sought the tutelage of the Heartwood Master, or practiced her own druidic arts alone in the deep woods.
Then came word that an ancient land had been rediscovered; a land that most had forgotten, but was hinted at in the legends of the old stories. Tales of dragons, sentient plant life, and dragon/reptile crossbreeds spread, and Dariana knew it was time to go. She ached to roam this land, to learn if her mother's stories were all true, and perhaps make a few discoveries of her own. It was time to truly become a Soldier of Tunare.
"And that, child, was the day I looked the Lady Vox in the eye," Gwyden concluded.
The bright-eyed child snuggled against him was enthralled. Dariana thrilled in her father's stories, and the one about the dragon in her icy lair was a favorite. She often pictured her father-hero, fists flying, single-handedly taking down a dragon, or a Lizardman, or some other fantastically vile creature. The girl was but a slip of white-haired delicacy next to her broad-shouldered father, but her adoration was clear when she begged him to "Tell it again!"
Even at this age, Dariana wanted nothing more than to travel, travel far away and see exotic places and learn new things, just like her father. Although he no longer fought in great battles, Gwyden often did travel for more peaceful business, and when he was needed in the nearby city of Felwithe he sometimes brought his little girl along with him. When Gwyden was gone on longer trips, Dari often played in the forest, pretending she was a great wanderer, discovering new paths and forgotten lands. Dariana loved the Faydark dearly, but the seed of wanderlust in her heart was planted at birth, and it never withered.
As she grew older, she sometimes ran to Felwithe alone on errands for her father. It was on one of these errands that she learned her first real lesson in traveling: racial prejudice. She'd paid a local high elf merchant for his goods, and as she turned to leave she heard him mutter a mostly unintelligible phrase. She did catch the word "Fizzlethorpe" though, and turned back with a smile to ask the merchant to repeat himself. But when she saw the sneer on his face, she was taken aback. "He thinks I am a bandit!" she realized, "a... thief!" and fled the store.
It was not to be the only time her mixed heritage was met with disdain in Felwithe, although it never seemed to happen when she was there with her father. None dared disdain the only child of Grandmaster Gwyden Moondancer to his face. Dariana never told her father of the prejudicial treatment she occasionally received – after all, most of the high elves greeted her as warmly as any other – although she was sure he was aware of the general sentiment.
As she grew, Dariana also displayed a great interest in her mother's stories; not tales of travel and adventure, but of legends and myths. Lodak Moondancer knew not only the common tales of their wood elf heritage, but the nearly-forgotten stories of ages ago, when the gods roamed Norrath and seemed to be involved in everything; stories of creation and destruction, of love and revenge, of races and civilizations that Dariana would never see. One of Lodak's lifetime projects was writing these legends down so that they would never be forgotten, and Dariana often quietly assisted her mother with this task.
Indeed, the young half-elf's hunger for travel was matched by her thirst for knowledge. In addition to memorizing every story her parents had to tell, she also apprenticed her mother in her duties as a high priestess of Tunare. For Lodak was an accomplished mystic; many of the wood elves of the Faydark came to their cottage for healing and advice of all kinds. When not helping her mother, Dariana sought the tutelage of the Heartwood Master, or practiced her own druidic arts alone in the deep woods.
Then came word that an ancient land had been rediscovered; a land that most had forgotten, but was hinted at in the legends of the old stories. Tales of dragons, sentient plant life, and dragon/reptile crossbreeds spread, and Dariana knew it was time to go. She ached to roam this land, to learn if her mother's stories were all true, and perhaps make a few discoveries of her own. It was time to truly become a Soldier of Tunare.