I am Artemis, called the Healer by those who know me. At 160 years of age, the human equivalency of 16, I have learned much, though many still see me as a young elf.
Standing somewhat shorter than most around me, I tend to stand out in a crowd, my dusky skin and blue eyes, along with my obvious elven heritage, making it rather difficult to blend in. My light blond hair looks almost white, draped across my shoulders save for when I am forced to tie it back.
I am a follower of the wild, though I have no aversion to towns. I plan to become a physician, sparing any I can from the pain of death. To succeed in life, I trust to make many alliances, the better to protect those under me.
It is with these thoughts that I shall begin my path to fame, to the aid of all I meet.
A Sentimental Value
When I left my childhood home, I chose to take with me my mother's ring of solace, her memory of my father, gone these many years to war. I added a bit of her hair to the tiny chamber within the ring, where it sits with my father's hair that he had left her. This way I could keep them both near me, lest I forget where I came from.
Today as I roamed through the Town, I chanced upon an old acquaintance of mine, Elliot the Priest. I was surprised to see he lived in the Town as he had been a common face around my childhood home. Rumours used to abound about him and my mother, but it is best not to speak thus of the dead.
He offered his sincere condolences for my mother's death, and moral support from the divine, welcome support. It was then that Elliot told me a secret. It seems he had been sent to aid me and my mother, by my father no less. Throughout my growing years, he has been there to watch over me, and see to it that I am cared for. And it seems that care shall continue.
Deity of Artemis
Elliot once told me of Tareth, the god of lovers. He is said to aid all who need him, for his love is for everyone, and he commands his followers to do the same. In Tareth's name shall I worship and go forth.
Artemis died as they lived, attempting to aid those in need. It is unfortunate their mind was too feeble for them to remember the benefits of armour. No one should enter combat sans arms and armour. A good person, a good friend, they will be sorely missed by those who knew them.
May they rest in peace, gathered up in the arms of their deity.