Born of a half-drow mother and full human father of unknown origin, the early life of Astrothalandar Moonhair was not an easy one. Generally reviled, or at the least, looked down upon, by the townsfolk of mountainous Kelnar, merely because of his dark and exotic appearance, he was forced to learn to fight from an early age. Soon, due to the prodigious strength inherited from his mysterious father, and the almost unnatural speed and grace of his mother's kind, he could beat to the ground any of the other children of the town, who would spit on the ground at his feet, and outrun any of their elder brothers when they came looking for vengeance. And those from whom he was forced to run had to watch their backs... the child had learned to hate.

Finally, at the young age of 15, Astroth, in a rage, slew two of his most frequent antagonists- the twin sons of the village headman.

Standing over the bloody corpses, a gore-covered rock in his hand, he knew that his time in the village was over. He slid silently through the shadows and dark alleyways towards his mother's house- the word 'home' had meant little to him- and entered the back room, where the woman who had birthed him sat, sewing and singing quietly to herself, in a near trance as the needle flickered in the scant light. She became gradually aware of his silent presence, and looked up at him, her usual serene expression on her face, as always, oblivious to the torment her only son faced every day. She herself had only the slightest traces of her bloodline in her long, tapered face, with it's high cheekbones and slanted oval eyes; skin of a rich olive colour, similar to that of humans far to the south; a mere hint of a point at the crest of her ears, ever hidden beneath long silver-gold hair; her most striking feature, perhaps, were the pupils of her eyes, which were a startling rose pink, and seemed to gaze calmly onto another plane, untroubled by the hardships of reality...

Seeing the total lack of comprehension in her eyes, the fury flared in him once more; Astroth flung the rock, which he had clutched, forgotten, in his hand all the way here, striking the woman squarely on the head, killing her instantly and ruining her beauty forever.

Stunned by his own action, he stood before her cooling body for an eternity, until something like a plan entered his child's mind. Picking up the brain-spattered rock once more, he ran upstairs to his mother's room, to the chest where she kept her few material reminders of his father; a few clothes, a ring, a large blue gemstone which sometimes flared with a brilliant white light... and the studded leather armour with its protective enchantments, and the glittering silver swords, one long and straight, and it's shorter, slightly curved sibling of identical manufacture, too fine to be that of human craftsmanship.

Smashing the lock of the chest with the rock, he reached in and drew forth the armour and the swords, and also, on an impulse, the star sapphire, which currently lay quiet, keeping its light to itself.

It was time to snatch something back from the cruel world which had stolen his innocence...

Although given to occasional, spontaneous acts of goodwill, usually towards those he considers are being unfairly victimised purely because of their size or appearance, Astroth Darkwalker, as he is now known, is an unscrupulous being, with no respect for the law or those who try to enforce it, and no morals, willing to commit any act in pursuit of his own, private, goals. He is certain there was something 'not normal' about his father, and is determined to find out who, or what, he is or was, and hence, uncover his own heritage.

"Take what thou will, and dare any to oppose thee..."