A half-elf battle bard on a mission.


Glynn is light skinned, with slightly pointed ears and short dark hair that point toward his mixed heritage. He is in his early 40s and looks like a world weary traveler. In his light eyes, you see someone that has seen great joy and unimaginable sorrow. Strapped to his back, he carries a 5 foot long full blade. He looks slightly uncomfortable in is chain mail. It seems like he wears it because he has to, not because he wants to. The only vestige of his past that he carries is an elven lute that represents the only aspect of elven culture that he took to, music.


Glynn, the half-elf bard, was born Glynnith’wd in the Elven nation of L’Thadrian. He is unusual for a half elf in that he was born of the union of an elf and a human, where most half elves are born of other half elves. His mother, Ell├ínith’wd the Eladrin, is a diplomat charged with overseeing of the comings and goings of foreigners in L’Thadrian. She had an affair with a human visitor and Glenn was the result of that affair. Glynn was raised by his mother and never met his father, being told that he was of no consequence. Glynn never really felt like he fit it. He had the general appearance and arcane skills of an elf, but not the temperament. He was brash, impatient, and compulsive. He took well to his studies, but always knew that he didn’t belong there. When the day of his majority arrived, Glynn left L’Thadrian, never to return. Wanting to find his place in the world, Glynn set off to find adventure in foreign lands. He ventured into the Nairn Alliance and came across an army recruiting station and joined up. He was like a fish who felt water for the first time. He fit in with the more human-centric atmosphere of the Alliance Military. He was pleased with the more mundane rigors of the soldier life. He picked up the blade with relative ease and set about to raise in the ranks. He traveled all over the Nairn Alliance in his many years of service. He quelled uprisings, provided disaster relief, patrolled the borders, and trained new recruits. The latter was his favorite. He seemed to be able to get more out of his charges than anyone thought possible, even himself. His quick and near perfect memory caught the attention of his superiors and he was tapped to become the chief historian of his storied unit, the Laughing Chimeras. His title would be Chronicler and he would be in charge of educating all the men and officers to come into the unit. Khovar, the aged dragon born chronicler before him, was set to retire and needed a replacement. They worked together for over a year, training Glynn to become the new chronicler. Upon completion of his training, Glynn took over and Khovar was transferred to an auxiliary unit for debrief and discharge. A few weeks later, Glynn received word that his mentor, Khovar, was being escorted to his final debriefing in Braucairn, when his caravan was ambushed and destroyed. No one had survived. Filled with grief, Glynn searched for answers. He immediately sensed some sort of foul play, but the official investigation deemed the incident a simple bandit attack. This didn’t make sense because the caravan had nothing of value, and was far larger than anything a simple bandit group would attack. On the other hand, being so close to the heart of the alliance, no major force could accomplished an attack such as this. It is a mystery that Glynn needed to uncover. When he approached his supperior, General Gallaway, about the inconsistencies, he was told that the investigation was closed. He refused to drop it, but they wouldn’t let him pursue it on his own. So, out of loyalty and in the pursuit of justice, Glynn decided to resign from the Alliance Military. After 20 years of dedicated service, and being told where to go and what to do, Glynn became free to seek his own destiny, and hopefully, avenge his beloved friend, Khovar.


After beating up an elf child for mocking his mother, Glynnith’wd was rebuked by his mother for not living up to the elven ideal. “Serenity and grace, child. These are the ways of your people.” She said. He didn’t understand how standing up for his mother could be a bad thing. This was the first moment that he felt he didn’t belong.

On the day that Glynnith’wd reached his majority, he turned his back on his people and left L’Thadrian, never to return. He has a clear memory of the look on his mothers face when he told her his decision, and turned to walk away. Almost betraying her stoicism, he had a hint of dismay behind her piercing eyes. That look alone almost stopped him in his tracks, but he knew there was more to live than this emotional prison.

After deciding to enlist in the Alliance Military, Glynnith’wd was filling out his enlistment form. The first blank gave him pause. Where it said “name,” he didn’t know what to put. His birth name seemed so inappropriate. It was of a bygone life. It was time to start anew. With a new sense of determination, he filled in a single word. Glynn.

A few years later, while on night watch at his units encampment. He had a strange feeling that something was off, so he decided to scout inside the camp instead watching outside, as was customary. When he got near the command tent, he saw several shadowed figures sneaking into its flapped entrance. Glynn sounded the alarm and rushed in to save is commanding officer, Captain Galloway, from would be assassins. This earned him a commendation and eventual promotion, and not to mention, the undying gratitude of his CO.


The Dork Circus elwoodtoast