Ronen stands six feet tall and has a well-muscled but not overly so build.  His skin is a deep tan with copper sheen like his wood elf mother, though his ears are not rounded, and his eyes are the color of amber with gold streaks.  He also sports a bit of facial hair.

Tattoos are scattered here and there, some from when he was a child and others he has had made over the years.  He still wears his brown hair long and often in two thick braids.  He wears fine clothes and studded leather armor, a simple backpack, and carries a shortbow, light mace, and daggers.

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Ronen was born on the Moonshae aIsles to Feanathiel, a wood elven shaman of the Shantaeniel Tribe.  It was a simple life, though winters were rough and sometimes the Northerners would raid their territory.  It was one of those raids that saw the ten-year-old taken, dragged away from his mother and home, and tossed onto a ship to who knew where.

The where turned out to be Waterdeep down in the dark section, where one could buy or sell anything, and he sat in a cell awaiting the auction.  He was terrified but tried to soothe himself, singing quietly into the darkness.  He didn’t know it but sharp ears picked up the notes and a woman in a dark cloak moved quietly by the window, bright green eyes peering in to see the youngling clad in nothing but a loincloth.  Even dirty she could see his beauty and she knew if he were sold that it would be to someone who would ruin him physically and spiritually.

He winced as he was suddenly dragged by the collar to a platform, blinded momentarily by the bright light and deafened by the yelling and cursing of those gathered around.  When it was over, he was handed over to the woman who had peered into the cell.  “You belong to me now,” she said imperiously and tugged at the chain for him to follow.  He did so, too afraid to resist, but when they were into a different part of town she stopped and dropped to her knees.  “I’m sorry little one but I didn’t want to draw attention to either of us down there.”

Elodie Brightsong was a bard of some renown and lived on one of the estates owned by a foreigner from far east.  It was there he was scrubbed clean, given proper clothes, and to his delight a wondrous meal.  After dinner, he was reassured that he was not a slave and never would be again.  She would treat him as the son she never had and give him bardic training so he would always be able to take care of himself.  She even offered to take him home but he shook his head.  His tribe wandered and they had likely relocated after the raid that took him and he didn’t think they would ever find them.

The estate was a new life for him and the primitive lad was as awkward as a bull in a china cabinet, but another who felt out of place like him proved to be invaluable.  Diyin Le helped him when Elodie was otherwise occupied, helping him learn to be civilized.  He also found a musical friend in Diyin and they would often be found playing and singing together to pass the time.  Soon he was good enough musically and could adapt to different settings so Elodie began taking him to fancy parties where he would sing and she and Diyin would play.

There he met Anlathuryl, one of Diyin’s friends and found her quite charming.  There were stirrings sometimes when he looked at her but he could see a connection between her and Diyin, so he sternly told himself she was a sister only.  After a while it was true and he was grateful that he hadn’t done anything to ruin his friendship with either of them.  They were his family and that was far more important than a brief fling.

At the parties, he also met another girl named Kara.  There was something about her that drew him to talk to her, a sadness in her eyes that made him want to comfort her.  She didn’t like the parties and she certainly didn’t want to leave with any of the gentlemen who asked her to dance.  Yet there was a woman Kara called Madame who would lean in and whisper in her ear, making the young woman pale and then leave on the arm of a gentleman who slipped a pouch to Madame.  When he finally understood what was happening, his blood boiled.

There wasn’t much he could do for Kara, other than be another source of support.  Like Anla, Kara became a sister to him.  He knew Anla was more help to her, but he was both sad and elated when Kara finally found her courage and snuck out of one of the parties.  He had provided a bit of a distraction so when Madame finally realized her little money maker was gone, it was too late.  She and a couple of her ‘guards’ looked for Kara to no avail.

He continued his education and training until it was time for him to strike out on his own and see the world, learn more about music and the innate magic he could wield.  It was a happy occasion when he signed up to help guard a caravan as a means of getting to travel in relative safety.  At first he didn’t recognize her without all the makeup, fancy dresses, and fake jewelry but after a second look he knew without a doubt it was Kara.  From that point forward, they worked with the caravan and reunited with Diyin and Anla in a tavern.  Their employer sent them on a mission with a chest and now their group has grown.  Ronen knows how lucky he has been and is truly grateful.