Lev

Lysi'ander Vae'Khyll possesses a lithe, athletic build honed by decades of rigorous training with the Twilight Wardens, his body a testament to both fey grace and martial discipline. His movements are fluid and precise, showcasing exceptional agility and reflexes, while his overall fitness level is extraordinary, even by Eladrin standards. Despite his physical perfection, Lysi'ander bears a barely noticeable scar over his heart - a reminder of his first mission gone awry - which occasionally aches when he's in the presence of powerful magic or during moments of intense emotional stress.

Lysiander has a lean, muscular build typical of an agile warrior. His most striking features are his white hair, which appears to be naturally tousled, and his piercing blue eyes that seem to hold an otherworldly intensity. His skin is pale, almost luminescent, which is characteristic of his Eladrin heritage and particularly his winter aspect.

Lysiander's face is angular and attractive, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His ears are pointed, clearly showing his fey lineage. His overall appearance exudes a combination of ethereal beauty and hardened warrior, reflecting both his noble Feywild origins and his training as a Twilight Warden. Intense piercing eyes no matter what aspect he is in.

That his appearnce can in fact change but no matter his appearnce he always has black eyelashes and black eyebrows. He is well tanned in Spring/Summer aspect and pale white in Winter/Fall aspect. Summer aspect his eyes are brilliant ruby red with jet black hair. Crystal blue eyes with platinum white hair in his Winter form, (For some reason he does not want to change his appearnce from his Winter aspect and mood). Spring aspect his eyes are a bright emerald green with golden blonde hair. Fall aspect his eyes are a bright golden color with honey colored hair.

While in deep thought he will twirl with his hair with his left hand.
Mutters in Sylvan under his breath when frustrated or surprised.
Reflexively reaches for a non-existent crown or circlet when startled.
Has a habit of collecting small, seemingly insignificant objects that catch his eye.

A Signet Ring that his father gave him of his family.
A Lyre that was his favorite to play on at his homeland. It is made of wood that reflects moonlight.
A Intriquite Holy Symbol used for both Freyja and Titania

On the stroke of midnight, as the 31st of Schwarzhexe in the year 2942, The Feywild trembled with the birth of Lysi'ander Vae'Khyll. Born to Lord Aetheron Vae'Khyll, the Twilight Sentinel, and Lady Elowenn Starwhisper Vae'Khyll, the Celestial Seer, Lysi'ander's arrival was heralded by a rare celestial event. The ever-twilight sky of the Feywild briefly flickered, as if a cosmic breath had blown across the eternal dusk, a phenomenon that the Starwhisper seers interpreted as an omen of great significance. It was also when the veil between worlds was thin, so it was dismissed by many. His mother knew better though.
From his very first moments, Lysi'ander was marked for an extraordinary destiny. The convergence of the Vae'Khyll and Starwhisper bloodlines in the child promised a unique blend of martial prowess and prophetic insight. The Seelie Court buzzed with excitement and speculation about the potential of this noble scion.
Lord Aetheron, as the leader of the elite Twilight Wardens, saw in his son the future of the organization he had built. Lady Elowenn, with her Starwhisper gift of foresight, sensed both great promise and lurking shadows in her child's future. Together, they committed to shaping Lysi'ander into a protector and leader worthy of both their houses.
From his earliest years, Lysi'ander's life was a carefully orchestrated balance of nurture and challenge. Within the ever-changing walls of Twilight's Vigil, the headquarters of the Twilight Wardens, he learned to adapt to the daily shift of seasons. His first steps were taken on spring meadows that transformed into winter tundras by nightfall. This environment instilled in him a deep understanding of change and adaptability from a very young age.
At the tender age of five, Lysi'ander began his formal training with the Twilight Wardens. While other noble children were learning courtly etiquette, young Lysi'ander was already being schooled in the art of stealth and surveillance. Lord Aetheron personally oversaw much of his son's martial training, teaching him not just how to wield a weapon, but how to read terrain, anticipate enemy movements, and lead with both courage and wisdom.
Lady Elowenn, meanwhile, nurtured her son's innate magical talents. As a scion of House Starwhisper, Lysi'ander showed an early affinity for celestial magic. His mother taught him to read the stars, to listen to the whispers of fate, and to trust in the subtle nudges of intuition. These lessons often took place in the Eternal Nexus, the heart of Twilight's Vigil, where the young prince learned to center himself amidst the chaos of constant change.
Despite the intensity of his training, Lysi'ander's parents ensured he was not isolated from the broader context of the Seelie Court. From a young age, he accompanied them to court functions, learning to navigate the intricate web of fey politics. His father's position as the realm's protector and his mother's Starwhisper heritage made the family a focal point of court intrigue and attention.
As he grew, Lysi'ander showed a remarkable ability to blend the teachings of both his parents. He could move with the silent grace of a Twilight Warden one moment, and speak with the eloquence of a Starwhisper seer the next. This duality made him a source of fascination and, sometimes, unease among the other noble houses.
At the age of twelve, Lysi'ander faced his first real test as a member of the Twilight Wardens. A group of unseelie fey had been raiding near a prominent fey crossing, endangering travelers between the Feywild and the Material Plane. Despite his youth, Lysi'ander was included in the mission to neutralize this threat. It was during this operation that he first demonstrated his unique combination of combat skills and prophetic insight, anticipating an ambush and turning the tables on the unseelie raiders. This success earned him the respect of the older Wardens and cemented his place within their ranks.
As he entered his teens, Lysi'ander's training intensified. He spent long hours mastering the art of planar navigation, learning to resist the memory-altering effects of crossing between worlds, and honing his ability to manipulate the inherent magic of the Feywild. His father taught him the importance of maintaining the balance between the fey realm and other planes, while his mother helped him develop his nascent prophetic abilities.
It was during this time that Lysi'ander also began to feel the weight of his heritage and destiny. The expectations placed upon him as the heir to House Vae'Khyll and a scion of House Starwhisper were immense. He was expected to be not just a warrior, but a leader; not just a seer, but a guiding light for the entire realm. This pressure, while often overwhelming, also drove him to excel in his studies and training.
At the age of eighteen, Lysi'ander underwent the Rite of Twilight, a secret ceremony reserved for the most promising members of the Twilight Wardens. This grueling test of skill, wisdom, and character lasted for seven days and nights, with each day representing a different challenge tied to the protection of the Feywild. Lysi'ander emerged from the rite changed, his eyes now bearing a hint of the eternal twilight he had sworn to protect.
In the years that followed, Lysi'ander took on increasingly important roles within the Twilight Wardens. He led missions to secure vulnerable fey crossings, negotiated with powerful elemental entities to maintain the Feywild's borders, and even thwarted an attempt by a coalition of hags to breach the defenses of the Seelie Court. His successes made him a rising star not just within the Wardens, but in the broader politics of the fey realm.
However, it was not all accolades and victories. Lysi'ander also faced failures and setbacks that tested his resolve. A mission to the Shadowfell went awry, resulting in the loss of several Wardens under his command. This failure haunted him, driving him to redouble his efforts in training and strategy. It also awakened in him a deeper appreciation for the weight of leadership and the consequences of his decisions.
As he approached his twenty-third year, Lysi'ander had grown into a formidable warrior and a respected figure in the Seelie Court. His mix of martial skill, magical ability, and political acumen made him a unique figure in the realm. Yet, despite his accomplishments, he often felt restless, as if some crucial part of his destiny remained unfulfilled.
It was in this state of mind that fate intervened in the form of Zephyr, a young fairy dragon. Their meeting was as unexpected as it was fateful. During a routine patrol near the borders of the Feywild, Lysi'ander encountered the four-year-old Zephyr caught in a trap set by poachers. Without hesitation, Lysi'ander freed the small dragon, using his healing magic to treat its wounds.
Zephyr, grateful and intrigued by the young fey noble, decided to stay by Lysi'ander's side. What began as a chance encounter quickly blossomed into a deep friendship. Zephyr's playful nature and innate connection to draconic magic complemented Lysi'ander's more serious demeanor. The fairy dragon became not just a friend, but a confidant and partner in Lysi'ander's duties.
It was Zephyr who first began teaching Lysi'ander the intricacies of the Draconic language, a skill that would prove invaluable in the years to come. Their friendship also opened Lysi'ander's eyes to different perspectives on the Feywild and its connection to other realms, enriching his understanding of his role as a protector.

________________________________________
The Gift of Iridescent Scales
Lev’s 40th Night of Birth.
  The morning of Lysi'ander's fortieth birthday dawned with the peculiar luminescence unique to the Feywild—neither truly day nor night, but a perfect twilight that bathed his chambers in soft lavender light. He had risen early, as was his habit, performing the solemn rituals that marked his devotion to both Freyja and Titania. As he completed the intricate pattern of colored threads that always preceded his morning meditation, he noticed something unusual—the threads seemed to shimmer with an internal light, their patterns shifting subtly even after his fingers had stilled.
  A familiar chirping sound caught his attention. Turning toward his window, he saw a small crystalline butterfly—not a living creature, but a message construct he recognized instantly as Zephyr's work.
  "Come to the Shimmering Glade at mid-twilight," the construct whispered in Zephyr's voice before dissolving into motes of light that danced around Lev's head briefly before fading away.
  Lev smiled to himself, a rare expression on his winter-touched features.
Zephyr had been mysteriously absent for nearly two weeks—an unusual occurrence given their near-inseparable nature since that fateful day seventeen years prior when Lev had rescued the young faerie dragon from a hunter's trap. Though Zephyr had claimed court business with his family required his presence, Lev had suspected his friend was planning something for his birthday, despite Lev's insistence that forty years was hardly a milestone for an Eladrin.
    The Shimmering Glade lay near the borders of the Summer and Day Courts, a neutral ground where the eternal twilight of the Feywild shimmered with particular vibrancy. As Lev approached the ancient stone archway that marked the glade's entrance, he noted curious tracks in the soft moss—far too many for just Zephyr.
  "Ah, punctual as ever, my winter prince," came Zephyr's familiar voice, though its owner remained invisible. "Close your eyes, please. Your gift requires... a proper introduction."
  Lev hesitated only briefly before complying. Despite his formidable training as a Twilight Warden, he trusted Zephyr implicitly. He closed his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze caress his face as he was guided forward by an unseen hand.
  The sounds around him changed—the ambient whispers of the forest gave way to the soft murmurs of multiple voices speaking in a language he recognized as an ancient dialect of Draconic, one Zephyr had been teaching him over the years. Though not fluent enough to understand every word, he caught fragments: "worthy," "honor," "protection," and "friendship."
  "Now, Lysi'ander Vae'Khyll, Winter-Touched Prince of House Vae'Khyll, open your eyes and receive the blessing of the Sky Scales Clan," Zephyr announced formally, his usual playful tone replaced by ceremonial gravity.
  Lev opened his eyes to find himself standing in the center of the Shimmering Glade. Before him floated seven faerie dragons of various ages and colors, arranged in a perfect circle. Zephyr hovered at their center, his blue scales gleaming in the twilight. Behind the dragons stood an ornate stand holding what appeared to be armor—but unlike any Lev had ever seen.
  The eldest dragon, a violet-scaled matriarch with eyes that held the wisdom of centuries, spoke first.
  "Young Warden of the Changing Seasons, Guardian of the Veil, Friend of Zephyr Sky Scales," she began, her voice like wind chimes in a summer breeze. "When you saved our son from the cold bite of iron and death seventeen years past, you bound our houses in a debt that mere words or gold could never repay."
  Another dragon, emerald-scaled and proud, continued: "For seventeen years, we have watched you train our Zephyr in the ways of your court while he shared with you our ways. We have seen the bond between you grow stronger than blood."
  Zephyr fluttered forward. "My family and I have spent these past three years gathering scales—freely given during our natural molting—from every member of our clan. Each scale contains a fragment of our magic, our memories, our very essence."
  The violet matriarch nodded. "These scales have been woven with ancient magic known only to our kind, bound with spells of protection and transformation that date back to the First Dawn of the Feywild."
  Lev's gaze was drawn to the armor on the stand. With each word spoken, it seemed to shimmer more intensely, its iridescent scales reflecting light that wasn't there, creating patterns of color that shifted and flowed like liquid rainbows. The craftsmanship was beyond anything he had ever witnessed—each scale perfectly placed, overlapping in intricate patterns that reminded him of both dragon hide and the elegant curves of summer leaves.
  The matriarch continued, "This armor is more than protection for your body, Winter Prince. It carries within it the essence of our clan—our joy, our magic, our very flight. When worn by one worthy, as you have proven to be, it grants abilities known only to our kind."
  Zephyr flew to hover before Lev's face, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. "My friend, my teacher, my brother in all but blood—this is the highest honor my clan can bestow. No non-dragon has ever worn the Scales of Transformation."
  A lump formed in Lev's throat. In his forty years, he had received many gifts befitting his station—enchanted weapons, ancient tomes, artifacts of great power—but never had he been presented with something that represented such personal sacrifice and deep connection.
  "I... I am not worthy of such a gift," he said softly, his normally measured voice faltering slightly.
  The violet matriarch trilled a laugh that sounded like crystal bells. "That, young prince, is precisely why you are worthy. Now, will you accept the gift of the Sky Scales Clan?"
  With a formal bow that his mentors would have approved of, Lev nodded. "I accept this gift with humility and gratitude. I shall strive to honor the trust you place in me."
  What followed was an intricate ceremony. Each dragon approached in turn, touching their forehead to Lev's before retreating. Finally, Zephyr fluttered down to the armor and touched one claw to its breast. At his touch, the armor separated from the stand, floating in the air as if worn by an invisible figure. "The Scales await your command," Zephyr said. "They will respond to your will, protecting you when needed, transforming you when desired."
  As Lev stepped forward, the armor moved to meet him. Rather than him donning it piece by piece as with traditional armor, the scales seemed to flow around him, adjusting perfectly to his form. The sensation was extraordinary—a warm embrace rather than the cold confinement of metal. As the final scale settled into place, a surge of magic flowed through him—ancient, wild, and joyful.
  For a brief moment, Lev felt as if he could see through every scale, perceiving the world from multiple angles simultaneously. He sensed the wind currents above the trees, felt the subtle magnetic pull of the north, understood instinctively how to catch the light just so to become virtually invisible.
  When the sensation subsided, he looked down at himself. The armor gleamed with all the colors of the Feywild at once—deep midnight blues shifting to emerald greens, then to sunset purples and dawn golds, all flowing across the surface like ripples in a pond.
  "This is..." Lev began, finding himself at a rare loss for words.
  "This is our way of saying that you, winter-touched prince of the Seelie Court, are family," the matriarch said simply.
  Zephyr fluttered excitedly around him. "Try it! Think of flight, think of transformation!"
  Taking a deep breath, Lev closed his eyes and imagined wings—not the gossamer wings of the fey, but the elegant butterfly-like wings of a faerie dragon. A tingling sensation spread across his back, and gasps from the assembled dragons told him something was happening. When he opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw wings—iridescent and perfect—extending from his shoulders, yet the armor remained intact.
  "That's just the beginning," Zephyr said, practically bouncing in mid-air with excitement. "With practice, you can assume our form entirely, though your coloring will always mark you as kin rather than kind."
  The next hours were spent in joyous exploration of the armor's capabilities, with each member of the Sky Scales Clan showing Lev different aspects of its magic. As twilight deepened (or perhaps lightened—the eternal twilight of the Feywild made such distinctions meaningless), a feast appeared in the glade, with delicacies from both the courts of the Fey and treats favored by dragonkind.
  It was during this feast, as conversations flowed around him, that Lev found a moment of quiet with Zephyr.
  "This is beyond any gift I could have imagined," he said softly, running his fingers over the scales that now seemed a part of him. "I have no words adequate to express my gratitude."
  Zephyr settled on his shoulder, a familiar weight that had become a comfort over the years. "You saved my life when I was young and foolish enough to be caught in a simple trap. You've taught me much of your world, shared your knowledge freely, and treated me as an equal when others saw only a mischievous dragon hardly larger than a house cat. This gift is freely given—scales freely offered, magic freely shared."
  "Still," Lev insisted, "this represents years of work, ancient magic, and personal sacrifice from your entire clan."
  Zephyr's tail curled around Lev's neck in a gesture of affection. "That's what family does, my friend. And you have been family to me since that day in the forest." After a pause, he added with his usual mischievous tone, "Besides, think how magnificently dramatic you'll look in court with your new wings. The Summer Court ladies will swoon!"
  That drew a rare laugh from Lev, the sound attracting surprised glances from nearby fey who were unaccustomed to such open emotion from the winter-touched prince.
  As the celebration continued around them, Lev sat quietly, watching the scales of his armor shift and shimmer in the twilight. For all his training in the complex protocols and politics of the Seelie Court, for all his years as a Twilight Warden protecting the boundaries between realms, nothing had prepared him for this simple truth: he had found a family not through birth or court politics, but through one small act of kindness toward a trapped dragon many years ago.
  The armor was more than a gift—it was a tangible reminder that connections forged through compassion and loyalty transcended the boundaries between species, courts, and realms. As he looked around at the gathered dragons, at Zephyr perched contentedly on his shoulder, Lev felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the magic of the scales and everything to do with the bonds they represented.
  "Happy hatching day, winter prince," Zephyr whispered.
  "Thank you, my friend," Lev replied, knowing the words were insufficient but offering them anyway. "For everything."
  The scales of his armor shimmered in response, as if the very magic within them understood the depth of emotion behind those simple words.
    Later that night, in the privacy of his chambers, Lev stood before a mirror, examining the armor that now seemed a part of him. With a thought, he dismissed it, watching as the scales seemed to melt into his skin, disappearing entirely—yet he could still feel their presence, a gentle reassurance just beneath the surface.
  Another thought brought them forth again, flowing over his form like water before solidifying into the magnificent armor once more. He reached up to touch the scales at his collar, feeling their smooth warmth beneath his fingertips.
  "I will be worthy of this gift," he whispered to his reflection, a solemn vow to the absent dragons. "This I swear by both my patron goddesses."
  The scales shimmered in response, as if acknowledging his oath. For a moment—just a moment—Lev thought he saw Zephyr's reflection in the mirror beside his own, though he knew the dragon had returned to his family's roost hours ago.
  That night, as Lev completed his evening ritual of weaving colored threads into patterns, he added a new color—an iridescent thread that shifted hues as he worked it into the design. The completed pattern seemed to pulse with life in a way his previous work never had.
  As he settled into his reverie, the meditative trance that served the fey as sleep, Lev's thoughts were filled not with the duties and protocols that usually occupied his mind, but with images of flight—soaring above the eternal twilight forests of his home, wings of rainbow light carrying him higher than he had ever dreamed possible.
  For once, the winter-touched prince fell into his reverie with a smile upon his face.
  ________________________________________
    The decades that followed saw Lysi'ander and Zephyr become an inseparable duo, their combined talents making them a formidable asset to the Twilight Wardens. Lysi'ander's reputation grew, and many in the Seelie Court began to see him as the natural successor to his father's position.
However, fate had other plans. As Lysi'ander's 80th birthday approached, a series of events was set in motion that would change the course of his life. The exact details of the incident involving the love potion and a high-ranking member of the Seelie Court remain shrouded in rumor and speculation. What is known is that Lysi'ander's actions, born from a moment of impulsive mischief, had far-reaching consequences.
The scandal rocked the Seelie Court. Lysi'ander, who had long been seen as the epitome of duty and responsibility, now found himself at the center of a political firestorm. The delicate balance of power and alliances within the court was thrown into chaos.
In the aftermath, it was decided that Lysi'ander would be banished from the Feywild. This decision, while harsh, was seen as a necessary measure to maintain the integrity of the court and the Twilight Wardens. It was a devastating blow to Lysi'ander, who had dedicated his entire life to the protection of the realm he was now forced to leave.
The period between the pronouncement of his banishment and his departure was a time of intense preparation and reflection for Lysi'ander. He was given until the beginning of the new year to prepare for his exile and the mission that would accompany it. This mission, to aid in the preparation for the prophesied coming of dragons to the mortal realm, was both a punishment and an opportunity for redemption.
During these final months in the Feywild, Lysi'ander threw himself into preparation. He spent long hours in the libraries of Twilight's Vigil and the Starwhisper archives, studying everything he could about the mortal realm and draconic lore. His mother, Lady Elowenn, worked tirelessly to provide him with prophetic insights that might aid him in his journey. Lord Aetheron, while maintaining a stern exterior demanded by his position, ensured his son was equipped properly, meager comapered to what he was used to but it was better than nothing.
Zephyr, loyal to the end, insisted on accompanying Lysi'ander into exile. The fairy dragon Zephyr spent every possible moment with Lysi'ander, continuing their lessons in Draconic and providing the emotional support that Lysi'ander desperately needed.
As the new year approached, Lysi'ander found himself torn between determination to succeed in his mission and a deep sense of loss. The Feywild had been his home, his purpose, his entire world for eight decades. Now, he faced the unknown expanses of the mortal realm, armed with his training, his wits, and the hope of eventual redemption.
On the eve of his departure, a small, private ceremony was held in the Eternal Nexus of Twilight's Vigil. Lord Aetheron and Lady Elowenn, setting aside the formal constraints of their positions, embraced their son one last time. Words of love, advice, and hope were exchanged, along with more tangible gifts – maps of M'Brell and Newhon from his mother, and a secret token of his family from his father.
As the first light of the new year touched the ever-twilight sky of the Feywild, Lysi'ander Vae'Khyll stepped through the fey crossing that would take him to the mortal realm of Nehwon. Behind him lay eighty years of training, duty, and belongings. Ahead lay exile, uncertainty, and the monumental task of preparing a world for the coming of dragons. With a final look back at the shimmering beauty of his homeland, Lysi'ander crossed the threshold, his heart heavy with sorrow but his spirit resolute in the face of the challenges to come.

As an Eladrin from the Feywild, Lysi'ander's understanding of gender transcends the rigid definitions often found in mortal realms. In the ever-changing landscapes of his homeland, gender is viewed as a fluid expression of one's current state or mood, much like the shifting seasons themselves.
Lysi'ander's masculine presentation, complete with the use of he/him pronouns, is not a fixed, immutable aspect of his identity. Rather, it is the form that best expresses his current self, particularly resonant with his winter aspect. This masculinity is a reflection of his inner state - cool, reserved, and touched by the melancholy of his exile.
However, just as the Feywild cycles through its seasons, Lysi'ander acknowledges that his gender expression could shift. In the fey realm, such changes are accepted as natural and beautiful, mirroring the endless transformations of the world around them. While he currently feels most aligned with a masculine presentation, Lysi'ander remains open to the possibility that future seasons of his life might bring different expressions of self.
This fluid perspective on gender, deeply rooted in his Eladrin nature and fey culture, adds another layer to Lysi'ander's journey of adaptation in the mortal realm. It stands as a testament to the complex and often misunderstood nature of the Feywild's inhabitants, challenging rigid mortal constructs with the beautiful mutability of fey existence.

Heterosexual

Is schooled extensively on the religions of the world. He follows Titania and Freyja , but keeps an open mind about Religion.
Proper Seelie Etiquette.
 Started training at a young age in the arts of war both physical and mentatly.
Well-versed in the different types of dragons.
Was a member of an elite force of protectors of the Feywild from outside forces called the The Twilight Wardens.

Not only is he a noble by right and blood, but earned his place in an elite fighting force that protects the Feywild from outer sources. He was among the elite in The Twilight Wardens and even lead a couple minor missions.

Ashamed that he dishonored the family name the way he did. Embarrassed that he got banished from court and what the other nobles think of him now. He failed to take up the family place on the Courts Council. Being an only child he wanted to make his family proud but instead, he dishonored their name.

Exile Trauma: The shock of being suddenly cut off from his home, family, and everything he's known for 80 years would be deeply traumatic.
Identity Crisis: His exile challenges his sense of self, as his identity was heavily tied to his role in the Twilight Wardens and his place in the Seelie Court.
Guilt and Shame: The incident with the love potion that led to his exile likely causes intense feelings of guilt and shame, especially given his previously sterling reputation.
Pressure of Destiny: The weight of his prophetic mission regarding dragons, combined with the hope for redemption, could cause anxiety and stress.
Loss of Status: Adjusting from a position of respect and authority to being an outsider in a strange world could be psychologically challenging.
Separation Anxiety: Being apart from Zephyr, his closest friend, could cause emotional distress.
Perfectionism and Fear of Failure: His upbringing and the high expectations placed on him might have instilled a crippling fear of failure.
Survivor's Guilt: If he lost comrades during his time with the Twilight Wardens, he might carry guilt over surviving when others didn't.
Trust Issues: His fall from grace might make it difficult for him to trust others or to believe that others can trust him.
Chronic Homesickness: A persistent longing for the Feywild, which was not just his home but a part of his very being as an Eladrin.

Planar Knowledge: Unique understanding of both the Feywild and the material plane.
Seasonal Perspective: Sees patterns and changes in the world through the lens of shifting seasons.
Draconic Lore Expert: Extensive knowledge of dragon history, behavior, and culture.

Cultural Relativism: His experience in different realms has lead him to be non-judgmental about differing cultural practices.
Harmony with Nature: As a fey being, he values living in harmony with natural forces.
Intellectual Curiosity as Virtue: His fascination with his new surroundings suggests he values the pursuit of knowledge and new experiences.

Revealing sensitive information about the Fey Court to outsiders.
Deliberately damaging natural environments or fey-touched areas.
Betraying the trust of those who have accepted him despite his outsider status.

Redemption: Seeking to make amends for his past mistake and regain his standing in the Fey Court.
Knowledge: Satisfying his curiosity about the mortal realm and its inhabitants.
Protection: Safeguarding both his new home in Nehwon and his connections to the Feywild.
Self-discovery: Understanding his place between two worlds and growing from his experiences.
Connection: Forming new bonds and friendships in Nehwon while maintaining ties to his fey heritage.
  Mastery: Developing his skills as a Warcleric and his understanding of draconic lore.
  Purpose: Finding meaning in his role as a bridge between the fey, mortal, and draconic realms.

Savvies:
Draconic lore and language
Fey magic and rituals
Diplomatic interactions, especially in formal settings
Understanding and manipulating seasonal energies

Ineptitudes:
Controlling impulsive behavior, especially when emotionally charged Understanding or participating in common mortal pastimes Maintaining a low profile or blending in with mortal society Handling situations that require a "common touch" or street smarts.

Likes:
He appreciates art and beauty of all forms
Witnessing acts of kindness or redemption
Listening to music, particularly ethereal or nature-inspired melodies
Studying ancient texts, especially those related to dragons
Tasting exotic cuisines and beverages
Observing and participating in seasonal festivals
Collecting unusual trinkets or artifacts
  Dislikes:
Unnecessary cruelty or destruction of nature
Rigid, inflexible thinking or systems
Being reminded of his exile and separation from the Fey Court
Betrayal or breaking of promises
Prejudice against fey or other magical beings
Being underestimated or dismissed due to his otherworldly nature

Adaptability: Able to adjust to new situations and environments with relative ease.
Loyalty: Steadfast in his commitments, both to his mission and to those he considers friends.
Curiosity: Maintains a keen interest in learning about the world around him.
Empathy: Capable of understanding and relating to others, even across cultural divides.
Open-mindedness: Willing to consider new ideas and perspectives.
Responsibility: Takes his duties and the consequences of his actions seriously.

Vices:
Impulsiveness: Can act rashly, especially when emotionally charged (as evidenced by the love potion incident).
Melancholy: Tendency to dwell on his exile and past mistakes.
Pride: Remnants of his noble upbringing can lead to arrogance or a sense of superiority.
Obsessiveness: Can become overly focused on his rituals or prophecies.
  Flaws:
Naivety: Despite his age, he can be naive about certain aspects of mortal life.
Easily Distracted: His fascination with the exotic beauty of Nehwon can lead him astray from his mission.
Overconfidence: Might overestimate his ability to handle unfamiliar situations.
Difficulty with Practicality: Struggles with mundane, practical tasks in favor of the magical or philosophical.
Trust Issues: His exile might make it hard for him to fully trust others, especially authority figures.
Perfectionism: Strives for unattainable perfection, leading to frustration or delays.
Indecisiveness: When faced with choices that significantly impact his mission or personal redemption.
Escapism: Might use his rituals or focus on his mission to avoid dealing with personal issues.
Inflexibility: Can be stubborn about changing his views or admitting when he's wrong.
Guilt Complex: Carries a heavy burden of guilt over his past actions, which can cloud his judgment.

While in deep thought he will twirl with his hair with his left hand.
Mutters in Sylvan under his breath when frustrated or surprised.
Reflexively reaches for a non-existent crown or circlet when startled.
Has a habit of collecting small, seemingly insignificant objects that catch his eye.

Proud of looking his best. Keeps his armor oiled and clean. Believes in looking the best that you can. Habituallly and overly makes sure his appearnce is the best it can be. Appearance after all is the first impression.

Part of a group of of other Fey exiles and other Fey creatures that live on the Prime. They have formed their own support group and is called The Twilight Covenant

The Seelie Court
The Twiliight Vanguard
Family Connections all thorughout the The Feywild

Follows Titania and Freya but keeps an open mind about the Religions of the Mortal Realm.

Strengths:
Empathetic listener: Able to understand and relate to others' emotions.
Charismatic presence: His fey nature lends him a certain allure.
Cultural adaptability: Capable of learning and respecting new customs.
  Challenges: Cultural misunderstandings: May sometimes misinterpret mortal customs.
Otherworldly demeanor: Can be perceived as aloof or strange by some.
Prone to melancholy: His winter aspect can affect his social energy.

Loves to draw maps, paint, and calligraphy. Enjoys playing the lyre, of music from his homeland and learning new music from this new land.

Man of few words.
Most the time he pauses when asked something as if he is consulting someone before he answers.