I am Darius Uth Wistan, so named for my grandfather several generations removed. I was born in the city of Whitefire in the year 1322 on a bitterly cold winter morning. My family has lived in this wondrous city since its first timbers were erected. Several members of my family lived in Whitefire; my father Garth, my mother Alvina, my three brothers Douglass the Carpenter was the middle son, Jeffery the Bladesmith the youngest. Our sister Charity lived with us but spent much time in the homes of my two Uncles Jack and Paul that resided with in the city as well. We lived on a spacious estate of 50 acres with a 20 room manor house in the center. There were fruit orchards and flower gardens with winding paths throughout and just enough secret places to keep young lads into much mischief. I loved visiting my fathers study and seeing the many things he had collected in his time as a Knight of the White Flame. He had books, weapons, armor and so much more crammed into his study. Father always claimed other than his family only two items were dear to him, his blade “Oathbinder” and a tellerite coat of arms he wore about his neck to remind him of who he was. My earliest memories are of riding through the countryside with my father as he taught me what it meant to be a knight. My father was a strict but a caring man, my mother was a devout follower of Bahmut and instilled a sense piety in all of us. My brothers were complete opposites of each other where Douglass was charming and giving Jeffery was self absorbed and brooding. Charity encompassed the good of all of us. She was loving and caring to a fault though when cross she was a force to be reckoned with and woe to the person that had wronged her. My uncles were very much like my father that being with one of them was no different than being with father for the most part. Growing up we played several games like chess, king of the mountain and mkuki lanza a game where you throw spears through rolling hoops. My personal favorite thing to do was play with my wooden sword and shield and pretend I was my father defending the realm against things like dragons and daemons. I did not have a lot of time for play as the son of a knight. I was expected to muck the stalls in the stable as well as spend time with the weapons master and attend services in the chapel.
Most of the members of my family were followers of Ansolon the God of Bravery, Chivalry and Justice. My biggest enjoyment as a child was on my tenth birthday my father presented me with a wolf cub that I named Phalen. Phalen followed me everywhere and we got into much mischief him and me, alas Phalen passed just a few years past. I didn’t have many friends growing up due to my station and lack of free time to make them. Two, however became my constant companions Aiden Di Caela and Elven mage that had fought beside my father many times and Phalen Aeducan a Dwarven craftsman of such skill and renown that his name was known a weeks ride in any direction. With father away a lot serving the realm anytime he was home was grounds for celebration. We would have a feast for just the family at our estate, gifts for missed birthdays, anniversaries and holidays would be exchanged at these times. There was a storyteller that would come around from time to time. Mother seemed to have a strange relationship with this man like she had known him her entire life, accepted the man as part of her like yet never seemed to approve of him or his trade. He was very good at filching ale and food stuffs from the estates pantries and I shared many a sweet with him in some hidden place. It wasn’t until just before my mothers passing that she shared with me that the old storyteller was actually her father; my grandfather. The men in my family are know for their long black hair, amethyst eyes and their devotion to the realm.
I was once married to a woman named Deborah Kannigan. She was a beautiful lass with long silvery hair, emerald eyes and skin that had been kissed by the sun forever. Unfortunately unbeknownst to us at the time her father had already arranged a marriage for her and ours was not valid in the eyes of the church as it was not arranged or approved by our families. I would have challenged her father for the right to her hand, challenged the church, even my own family if that would have allowed us to be together and happy. I was on my way to confront her father, demand he allow me her hand in marriage when I happened upon her strolling in an orchard. I ran to her, told her of my plan. She broke down in tears and yelled at me, called am a fool for believing she could actually love me. Told me she wanted to marry me only for my families name and fortune. That I had now forced her to live a life of drudgery because we had not ran away straight after our unsanctioned wedding. I walked away from her stunned by what she had said to me. How could she say all those things, they could not be true. As I walked in a daze across hills and through dales my friends come upon me just as twilight was starting to take hold. They walked with me and tried to console me assuring me she was only repeating what her father had instructed but I still wondered. As we walked a strange misty fog blew up but we were nearing the estate so I did not fear after a couple hours in the mist I knew we surely were lost. That’s when I saw the gates, we entered although they did not look familiar and seeing a guardsman wearing a purple cloak I inquired as to the city we had entered and was given the response “Narrowhaven.” So my new life and journey began…..
