You wish to hear about my life, eh? Well, I suppose I'll humor you since I don't have anything on my agenda at the moment. I was born in a far away land known as Illenmark. It's a fairly small continent, populated mostly by elves and humans(you are correct in assuming there are half-elves there, as well).
Although I do not know who my true parents are, my earliest memories are of being raised by frost giants in the northeast mountains near Krimsbane's Highway. I lived there until I was 15. I assume it is needless to say that, being raised by frost giants, I was as smart as, well, a frost giant.
Anyways, a group of elven mountainclimbers found me sleeping in a mountain cave one day. Not knowing what to think, they brought me back to Pineth Nor. It's needless to say that my readjustments to my new surroundings were rather difficult. To make a long story short, I tried to begin life as a normal human, but was ridiculed due to my poor speaking skills and lack of any talent whatsoever.
Then, one of my few friends, whose name was Zarcon, told me of the golden citadel on the continent of Yaaltin. There, he said, was a fountain of knowledge for the taking, that is, if anyone was strong enough to hack through all the creatures guarding this "fountain of knowledge" first. Having nothing else to live for, I happily took the challenge. It was then when I sailed off to Yaaltin on the esteemed Lyvenark galleon, The Windward Lion. I reached Yaaltin several weeks later and didn't even stop for a meal before I forced myself upon the citadel, hacking, slashing, biting, and clawing. Zarcon followed me from behind lending a magical hand when necessary.
After several long days, we reached the top of the golden citadel. There was no fountain of knowledge there, only an archlich with an attitude. Unfortunately, Zarcon had used one of his many spells to head back to Yaaltin's desert sanctuary in order to restock on supplies, so it was just me against one of the most powerful magic-users on the continent. A neanderthal of my nature stood no chance against the fury of a lich, so I carefully planned my attack and did what I felt was the best tactic: when he wasn't looking, I stabbed him in the back of the head with my broadsword. The victory is almost humorous, since I can still picture it in my mind. Anyways, I killed the lich, but it appeared that I hadn't learned a thing. Upset at my futile attempt for knowledge, I climbed back down the stairs of the citadel, grunting and groaning as I went. To my suprise, however, I found myself capable of rational thought somehow.
It was then when I began to hear the voices. It was them who taught me the many things I know today. From the voices, I learned many things that man is not meant to know (which I will NOT share with ANYONE!), but, as Zarcon has told me, made my personality change for the worse. Nevertheless, these voices gave me the knowledge I desired, so I naturally did as they told. They told me to go to the mainland of Necromium and study under their master warlock. Since I had already proved my skills as a warrior, they said, it was now time to prove myself as a mage. This didn't happen overnight. In fact, it took me 62 years to master my skills as a warlock. Strangely, I didn't find myself growing older. The voices told me that they had drastically slowed my aging process, which I thanked them multiple times. Anyway, much of my skills as a warlock have disappeared overtime, except for a few summoning spells which I still remember. After this, the voices told me to live my life as a wandering bard. I did as they told, and I learned much lore of the lands.
Unfortunately, this lore has proved to be useless along the Sword Coast. After this, the voices continued to speak to me, telling me to take some time to learn some healing skills, which I eventually learned from a master shaman. The voices still didn't stop. Now, they told me my training there was complete, and now pointed me in the direction of the distant land of Elanthia. Well, I did as they requested, but I still don't feel I learned anything there. That last message was a lie. I learned a lot. It was there where I was taught how to use a scimitar, my new favorite weapon. I also learned about the stupidity of the human race, always whining and crying and depending on each other. This does not fit the human race alone. It also fits the elves, half-elves, dark elves, dwarves, sylvans, gnomes, and whatnot that also existed in Elanthia. Disgusted, I began to walk my own path. The voices continue to speak to me, but I now ignore them for the most part. Now, I can occasionally be seen wandering the Sword Coast, working on my own time by my own agenda. If you ever see me and wish to travel by my side, do so at your own risk. If I deem it necessary, I will not think twice about abandoning a companion to fulfill my own needs. Now that you know my life story, I'll bet you feel rather silly. You've gained nothing from this, yet wasted much of your time. Go away now, I have business to take care of.

Note: You may not want to ask for the assistance of Blizzardfist unless you are a TRUE role-player. He is known to do senseless things at random, which sometimes leads to out-of-character judgement and then he gets removed. This is not truly role-playing. There are always ways to settle matters besides having a tantrum now, isn't there?