I am Jack a frail man, with gray hair that matches my eyes, and a plain features, with an eye catching cloak and tunic that peacocks my presence.
My mother hoped I would be a Jack of All Trades but I am not and do not wish to be. Although I dearly love my Half Elf Mother, she did not always think things through. For instance she met my Human Father on one of his earlier campaigns of war and they came together to produce me, he set her up lovingly with a nice home but she never really had a plan and flowed with the wind it seems. I wonder if her heritage was part of the reason she was attacked brutality, or perhaps her carefree lifestyle, it was a weakness, but no one shall harm one I call mine and breath easy, I plan to strike them down into unendless sorrow, tortured day after day. I became known as a witch for the strange abilities I displayed, mainly just tricks to get people and things I needed to fall into place.
I hear there are ways to learn true magick, which I plan to do (If I haven't already) but knoweledge is the ultimate power. My mother said I was frail and it is true, I try to improve my physical frame but it won't do, perhaps I'm cursed or stricken with some unkowable illness, for now I must use my wit and strategy to survive.
Through enough knowledge and wit I will wield enough power to control all so that no one I love can ever fall again.
A long time ago I met Ichabod a well dressed Half Elvish Man Who was visiting Myself for business, as a politician he was well read and wise and we got along great despite himself being the idealistic type.
We would talk and argue on occasion when he had business and constantly tried to get me into politics, believing that a smart Half Elf could do wonders to bridge the ea hall gaps between humans and elves. I was very skeptical but would always hear out his advice in matters of politics, especially when he was one of the few friends I had, being branded as a witch had it's drawbacks too.
Reflections On Your Mother
My Mother was a beautiful maiden, with wavy brown locks that fell just below her bosom, she had sharp green eyes and a playful smile. She always cared for others and loved life and lived it to the fullest even when she could barely keep body and soul together herself she was always giving to those in need. She had a deep connection with nature and it's creatures but that did not stop her from doing what it took to survive, hunting, killing, and destroying nature for our own nourishment. I always wondered how someone could be so kind even while they we're destroying those precious creations of the earth, even in the kindest soul cruelty abounds, I knew this fully at a young age despite my foolishness. Whether My Mother was good or ill, it mattered not to me she had a way with people, animals, anything living really, even plants, she could just be near them and it seemed they glowed brighter and lived more full. My mother was precious to me, when I lost her I lost a part of myself, that, I will never reclaim, till I'm rejoined with her in death.
I learned everything from her and when she left, I had to unlearn much, in hopes of destroying those who defiled her. I can still see her, I wish she was still here.
Reflections on your father
My father was a strong man, he was a soldier through and through, so much so that he kept on being a soldier and never got to be my father. The wars and violence ate the man up, never to see a scrap of him at home, but he did make sure Mother and I had a home which is more than some did. My only regret is that he didn't live with his mind and soul, but instead left me craving them, I know in part he is the reason for my evil heart. I don't hold anything against him, he is a man and like all men selfish to the end, and eternally blind.