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The power of the elves is waning, the fortunes of elvenkind linked 
now with those of the younger races. With the retreat to Evermeet 
perhaps drawing to an end, it falls to those of us who hold to this 
thought to work the hardest in forging new alliances against the dark. 

I was but a child when my father took us from the forests of 
Evermeet to join with our kin in the heart of Cormanthor. I recall 
though, the distress it caused my mother. The Great Retreat had not 
yet been named such, but for all that few elves felt the pull to 
remain within, or return to, the lands lost to us. 

My earliest reveries were filled with the melancholy thoughts of 
my parents. My father desired a return to the days of light and glory 
that were signified by the city of Myth Drannor. Mother? She wished 
only for us to return to the spires of Evermeet and live out our lives 
as far away as possible from those things N’Tel’Quess. 

Pulled this way and that, I sought solace in walking the hidden 
trails and visiting the quiet places of the woods. In time, my 
wanderings took me to Corellon’s Glen and there to the scholars and 
artisans of His faith. Here at last, I found some measure of balance. 
Days spent in quiet discussion opened my eyes to a new path, one that 
was my own and free of the demands of my parents. 

To say that my father was merely unhappy with my desire to leave 
Cormanthor would be a great understatement. I recall spending the 
better part of a decade just in convincing him that visiting the 
other, non-elven, communities in the Dalelands had merit. 

In time, it became something of a game between us. My constant 
coaxing and pleading, his emphatic denials and commands. I think, in 
the end, that he saw his desires to have been overtaken by the 
changing world about us. So it was, that he released me to explore my 
own dream and seek others of the Father’s faith that I might continue 
my learning. 

Much has changed in my life since that first fateful step upon the 
path to Shadowdale. Vague thoughts and plans have coalesced about a 
single goal, lessons have been learned that draw me on towards 
fulfilling the hopes of our Father for his children. To be named a 
Feywarden of Corellon Larethian is to become a guardian of the cares 
and needs of our people. 

Hear then the litany that guides me. The creed of my faith, taught 
me by dear friends and companions. Harken to these words oh ye 
elvenkind and take them to your heart if you would join me on the path 
to the Father. 

Be both warden and sculptor of magic’s endless mysteries. 

Through Art and Craft, bring forth the beauty that envelops and 
let the spirit gambol unfettered. 

The song of joy and the dance of freedom shall ever soar on the 
wings of those who dare take flight. 

Guard against the slow death of stultifying sameness by seeking 
out new experiences and new ways. 

Ward against those who seek only to destroy in their inability to 
create or commune with the natural and mystical world. 

Be ever vigilant in force of arms and might of magic against any 
return of the banished darkness, but above all keep strong in heart 
against corruption from within.