Humanoid (elf, fire), low-light vision, flaming wings.
Dragon Points: 2
Weapon Focus (scimitar)
Common, Elven, Abanasinian, Draconic, Goblin, Istarian, Magius.
Favored Soul Spells Known (5/4; save DC 10 + spell level):
0—cure minor wounds, detect magic, light, resistance
Scimitar: +1 melee (1d6/18-20 X2).
Scimitar and Pouches.
Corilanthas is a young phaethon with bright yellow hair, a fair complexion, and blue eyes. He is very seriously minded and highly educated. Though he is devoted to Habbakuk, he pays homage to all the gods of Good, particularly Solinari.
Origins and Epiphanies:
"My friends, I am sure you have many questions. I shall endeavor to answer them to the best of my ability."
"My people are called the phaethon. We are an offshoot of the elven peoples, granted wings of fire by Phaeran the Firebird."
"My mother was a seer. Her visions were considered prophetic. My mother's final vision came as she gave birth to me. She foresaw that I would have a great destiny, but in order to fulfill my destiny, I would die. This vision signified my birth and her death."
"My father was heartbroken at her loss, as well as the knowledge that his newborn son would die. He sought to protect me, and avoid the prophecy that my mother foretold."
"My father used his own magic to transform me, forever taking away my wings and changing me into the form of an elf. I was no longer Corlantas the phaethon, but Corilanthas the Qualinesti. He placed me in the hands of a Qualinesti couple, those who I know as my parents, and left. They raised me as their own."
"It was shortly thereafter that the Chaos War struck. I was raised during the reign of the dragon overlords, a time of no magic and no gods. My 'parents' and I traveled the many miles across the desert during the elven diaspora. They...were not so fortunate. I found a new home in Pashin."
"It wasn't until after the War of Souls, when Mistress Jenna reassembled the Conclave of Wizards, that I discovered my destiny. Or so I thought. Something awoke in me that day, and I felt a pull toward Solinari. Perhaps it was the aftereffect of the spell my father cast on me. Perhaps it was natural talent. I cannot say."
"I was, for a short time, an apprentice to Zoe Left-Hand, the mage of Khurman Tor. Unfortunately, my studies were cut short as I worked to help out my people. I was given the task of finding the Key of Quinari."
"Since that time, I have met up with all of you. As I returned to my people, I discovered that they had been taken by the sunblight. As I discovered this, I also knew that I had contracted it. Not wanting to die in the mad depths of Morinost nor to spread my disease to other elves, I quit fighting it and let it take over. I would die in the desert."
"Or so I thought! It seems that Trog had other ideas."
"As I silently suffered, we came upon the Mikku. The priestess of Elir- Sana showed me the way out of the darkness. Solinari willingly gave me up, knowing that only by Habbakuk's grace could I be saved. The deal was made between the gods, and as twilight came before me, I was reborn."
"Cracks, both literal and figurative, appeared on my skin, and I was reborn, wings and all, as a phaethon. I truly was reborn."
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