I was raised by my human father, Sylvander Fortuna, a senior navigator with Selgaunt’s Scepters, in a respectable darth in the great metropolis of Selgaunt, after my moon elf mother abandoned me on his doorstep. Papa gifted me with an Elvish name—Amanodel means Moon Flower—and an expensive, elite education at the Oghmanyte ‘Sanctum of the Scroll.’ My empty-head classmates gave me the nickname Full Moon. They all thought I was too plump, too ’round’ to have elvish blood.
I studied to become a cartographer and when I graduated, Papa retired from the Scepters. He settled into a charming little arndel in the Arch Wood, and I headed west, to find myself. One full moon night, with Papa’s old Scepters gear—green cloak, black leather armour, scimitar and wooden sailor’s shield—I crammed my map-making tools and guild letter into my pack along with extra skins for water, wine, and ale and boarded a ship to Westgate: the Armpit of the Inner Sea. Then I forged my own path overland, following the light of Selûne and, of course, maps that I had expertly drafted myself.
One night, taking a rather brilliant shortcut through the Reaching Woods, I encountered an injured, snarling dire wolf surrounded by dead and dying goblins: one goblin still standing, bloody blade in hand. Half pissed, I stepped into the middle of it all: persuaded the goblin to flee, then calmed the wolf until it loped away. Bravery? Maybe. Lunacy? Definitely, but it just felt right.
A few moments later, a haggard but happy upcountry crone appeared and introduced herself. Granny Feldstone travelled with me for about a month. She taught me so much: about nature, herbalism, survival, and the secret signs, speech, and spellcraft of ‘the Old Faith‘, then, one night she just disappeared. She was so weird. I’ll never forget her.
Anyway, my summer-long pilgrimage took me 1500 miles from the heart of the Sea of Fallen Stars all the way here to the Empty Lands (… between you and me, I seriously lost a lot of weight).
When I finally arrived in Waterdeep, I headed directly to the famous ‘House of the Moon‘ in the Sea Ward, keen to see their grand Hall of Maps: maps of nearly every known city and land in the continent of Faerûn, stored on crammed shelves, in ornate tubes of bone and ivory. They even have maps of Maztica, Kara-tur, and Zakhara. When I was there, I heard the Moonmaiden’s doctrine for the very first time, but it described everything I had always felt was true.
Then I went down to Map House, my guildhall in the Castle Ward. My map-brothers and map-sisters had no work for me in the City of Splendors, but they were helpful nonetheless. They put me up for the night, and told me to try my luck in Baldur’s Gate. So, that’s why I’m here, in the City of Blood.
I’ve scrounged a bit of map work, here and there, but steady cartography jobs are hard to find when you’re new in town. Everyone tells me that I could easily get hired slinging sweet jugs of mead for juicy tips, here at The Lusty Strigiforme, just opened in Heapside. Business is business… I could use the extra coin.
Welcome to the Realms 