Pardirion Kidarian hails from a secluded elf village and was born by an elf woman whose human lover had left to remove some monsters that had made their home near the village. The lover did not return from this journey but had fought valiantly and was honored with songs. Solace came to the elf in the form of a son.
As Pardirion grew he became curious about the outside world that his father came from. He read every book and scroll in the village and listened eagerly to any story that was told until he came to the age of maturity. Pardirion decided that second hand experiences would not satisfy him any longer.
When he told his mother she wasn’t surprised. His eventual departure was a given with his fascination with the larger world. Instead of attempting to dissuade him she merely sat him down to help him pack. The next morning Pardirion left with his father’s sword at his waist and his mother bow in hand.
A year passed and Pardirion had visited a dozen towns and three cities, each time he had stepped through the front gate he felt a surge of excitement. He would get drunk on the murmur of so many voices straining to be heard… and those that tried to snuff out those that spoke to loudly of the wrong things.
It is in these bastions of society that he learned the harsh side of the world. Money had never been an issue in the village and had never been in great supply thus Pardirion was surprised when he groped for his purse to buy an apple to find that it was gone.
Copperless he was forced to find whatever work he could. That is how he met Henry One-Thumb, a small time thief that needed help with a job. It was a simple enough business, Pardirion would run into the mark and go down in a heap with him. Once the two disentangled, Henry would cut the man’s purse while he argued with Pardirion. As Pardirion learned from Henry the two would switch roles.
Alas, as all things must, their partnership came to an end when Henry bumped into the wrong mark and was blasted to cinders in wizard’s fire.
A month later Pardirion found himself listening to tales from a talkative gnome that was just back into the city after an adventure that had involved slaying a frost drake.
“I wonder if I could do that?” Pardirion said absently as the gnome, who was named Beezengbum, took a draw from his drink.
The gnome hopped up onto his chair and started yelling to the patrons of the tavern, “Hey, listen! Anyone need some help in an adventure? My friend here is very very very very talented and wants to have a few tales of his own to woo the lasses with!”