Until Thy Kingdom Come
Autarch of Arcadia
Astoroth is a slender male half-elf. His flowing blonde hair, elegant pointed ears and large, liquid eyes full of expressive yearning are the genetic inheritance of his elven father, along with the fluid, stalking grace with which he moves. His human mother bestowed upon him height, physical hardiness, and force of personality.
Wearing a light chain shirt over a well-worn but immaculately maintained outfit, heavily favoring blacks and purples. Astoroth often binds his hair with a bandanna or headband of such a shade as well. When not wearing such an affectation, careful observers might notice a glow that lights up his long bangs from underneath: the glowing rune that appears on his forehead when linked with his tutelary familiar, Syzygy.
The half-elf travels light, a backpack with a few essentials, a quiver of worn but serviceable bolts, and a well-maintained crossbow attached to a shoulder sling are his only earthly possessions.
The benefit of being a half-breed is that you get to witness first hand the worst both halves offer, and if you’re lucky you get to see some of the best as well. In my wanderings during my few decades of existence, I’ve been fortunate to experience an abundance of both.
At an early age, I became aware of the difference between the “pure bloods” and the products of racial synthesis. Half breeds like myself; often stigmatized based on deeply subconscious racial biases that manifests in the xenophobia many cultures exhibit. Focusing my attention inward, I spent a period of time living within a shadow filled glade deep in a primeval forest, a spiritual sight whispered to me by a dark skinned elf in a rank tavern one rainy autumn evening in the early days of my wanderlust. The visions I experienced there were, foremost, disturbing—but also enlightening. I became obsessed with the notion of change, and the place between things that exists only because of the existence of the two things but remains no less real because of it. The connection of our reality with the multitude of others that exist.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been accompanied by my tutelary companion—Syzygy. Since I was a child it served as my guardian, offering advice and drawing my awareness to important details. It took me a while to figure out why humans would react so strangely and passionately when I’d discuss it with them. My meditations had unlocked some phenomenal new ideas about the nature of our connection. With nothing but the force of my will, I made my friend manifest—a physical body to match its ferocious spirit.
I’ve built up a list of grievances with all manner of races and governments, but rather than my let my disillusionment drive me to drink or worse, I decided to channel my righteous anger. There has to be a better way to live, where man and elf and dwarf and even gnome can appreciate one another for the distinct but impressive beings they individually are. A place where freedom is the rule, not the exception in a culture drowning in law and vice and crime.
Some of the dreams I’ve had regarding this society include:
An alliance with Nature. Both in dedication and respect to the nature god/ess, but more crucially with the physical representations of nature in our world—the animals and fey. Open minded elves would be welcome additions to this part of the world, and a respectful symbiotic relationship with certain members of the local fauna population (top-of-the-food-chain predators, magical beasts, potential scouting animals) would help ensure that these powerful beings helped protect our borders as well as keeping them from eating livestock and earning the enmity of farmers and the like.
Hippogriff cavalry. I’ve always loved the stories I was told as a child of the famous human knights of old—and even more so when I became aware of their true historical actions in my studies. A society should have a group of warriors dedicated solely to the preservation of that society—this is effective as both a military asset and an inspirational nationalization tool. With the aid of a druid or animal trainer, a clutch of hippogriff eggs might be ready in a few short years time.