House Aeradiir is a relatively minor Sun Elf house. Only about 100 members alive today by the houses records.

Melwen Aeradiir is a Sun Elf with pale bronze skin, hair that shines like spun sliver and bright amber eyes. Her form is thin and lithe like many of her kind, somewhat on the tall side however. From an early age she has always been a bright inquisitive, and kind person. The sort of cheerful person anyone would refer to as a good natured person. Melwen showed magical talent at an early age, so she was sent to be apprenticed under the Transmutation specialist Emerion Gwaeth. A father figure to her, he taught her of general magics, and when she showed interest in his specialty. He was proud to teach all he knew of transmutation. She, like many elves had other interests beyond their major field of study, Melwen had gold working as a pastime.

Near the middle of her apprenticeship she was sent to the city outskirts to purchase a list of magical regents from a caravan of strange creatures called dwarfs. Before she was sent her master told her all about how the dwarfs are not to be trusted, and that they are short, hairy, inferior, uncivilized creatures. After a long walk to out side the city walls, mainly because non-elves are not allowed into the city of Lellesari, she came up on their small camp. Her master was right these creatures were short, hairy and smelly. Their entire group was speaking in a language foreign to her, but when she approached an apparently older member of the caravan who seemed to be the leader gestured to an apparently younger dwarf with red hair and a braided beard to go talk to her. This dwarf whose name was apparently Durkas, spoke elven in a fairly mangled fashion. But still a dwarf who could speak elven! Melwin was amazed, she had been told that all dwarfs were uncultured oafs, and while his elven was bad it was passable enough to let her barter for the magical regents she needed. This meeting with an "uncivilized" race that could speak elven a language of culture and beauty was a bit hard for her to fathom. For the next four years she contemplated the implications of this meeting, wondering if everything she had been told about the lesser races was a lie. Then she met Laiwila.

Laiwila was a wood elf, visiting the the city of Lellesari with a caravan of her people. During a week when her master was out of the city on business, Melwen journeyed to the market district to see the wares being sold. She often traveled to the city center when she had free time toexerpiernce new wonders after her eye opening meeting with the dwarf. This time however she saw a group of elves, with pale skin and black or brown hair. Curious she asked an older sun elf who they are, "He replied they are wood elves young one. Elves who live amongst the trees with the other lesser races, and so are lesser by extension." After thanking her elder for his wisdom, she walked towards the strange elves thinking to her self, "I am told these are lesser elves, not the equal of myself or my kin, and yet I was told the dwarfs were not much more than pack animals. I will have to find out for my self whether or not what I am told is the truth." By the time she came out of her inner debate, she was standing before the stall the wood elves had set up to display their wares and had been stading there for several minutes. She perused their wares, only briefly glancing at the large quantity of bows arrows and other weapons, then her eyes lighted on a table of intricately carved wooden art. Delighted at seeing these pieces of art, she quickly lost track of time examining various pieces, marveling in the ways the lines of the wood were used as part of the engraving. Melwen is unsure how long she was standing there examining the pieces of of art, when a melodious voice shook her from her absorption, "Can I help you?" The elven was of a different accent than her own but that only made the voice sound more beautiful to her ears. Melwen replied as she slowly looked up "Oh, I was just admiring these beautiful engravings. Might I ask who made them?" About to continue into another question, Melwen trailed off her entire attention taken up as she took in the features of the elf standing across the table from her. Beautiful does not even begin to describe what Melwen saw before her, the elf's features were breathtaking, her expression radiant, and her every curve was as if sculpted by a deity of art. Melwen just stood there stunned as the foreign elf replied in her sing-song voice "I created the pieces you seem so enamored with." Then seeming to notice where Melwen's attention was directed, smiles and adds "My name is Laiwila, whats yours?" It took Melwen a moment to find her voice, smiling back she replies "My name is Melwen, its nice to meet you." Melwen purchases a few pieces from her, and asked if she wanted to be shown around the city of Lellesari. Laiwila was delight by Melwen's offer happily accepting. She spent the remainder of the day showing her around the city, asking her about land she comes from. Hearing her stories of the outside world. Hanging on her every word, Melwen was enraptured by her tales of the world outside of the city she has known all her life. As the sun went down Laiwila returned to her caravan and Melwen returned to her home. Each night for the rest of the week Melwen showed her the sights of the city, telling each other stories of their lives to this point. One night Melwen was taking her though one of the city gardens and as they walked past a grove of tall golden flowers stopped. Melwen turned around to see what was the matter and saw tears running down her face. Rushing to her side she asked her what was wrong, Laiwila replied "Nothing is wrong, I'm just so happy. These are my mother's favorite flowers and its been 30 long years since I last saw her. Thank you, thank you for reminding me of home." Surprised at her response all Melwen can do is weakly say, "Your welcome." Smiling with happy tears on her face, Laiwila wraps her arms around Melwen, she leans in and kisses her softly. Melwen heart races, asking her self if this is really happening. Laiwila smiles and says "Yes" softly as she leads her behind a small grove of trees, where they make sweet love together. For the next month before Laiwila's caravan had to leave Melwen and Laiwila explored their passions for each other, and when she finally left the parting was tearful, each wishing they could have had more time with the other. When they parted, Laiwila gave Melwen a beautifully carved wooden statue of the tow of them together, and Melwen gave her a golden locket she made herself, inside of which is an unaging flower of the sort Laiwila cried over.

After meeting her, Melwen's world was reeling. She had been told all her life that all other races were less than her, that no one was her equal besides other sun elves. Yet, she found a wood elf, a supposedly lesser elf to be someone she could open her heart up to. Some she saw as her equal in every way, but they were of a supposedly lesser race. Yet Melwen did not think of Laiwila as being of a lesser race. For the last 6 years of her apprenticeship, she had this mental turmoil. Not sure what to think anymore at the end of her apprenticeship still had not found an answer to her question of, "are we right to think of ourselves as superior?" She spent 3 years in quiet thought and study, contemplating this question quietly as, the few times she had tried to ask someone what they thought they instantly replied with how Sun elves are the master race. Eventually she decided to join with a sun elf caravan heading to wood elf lands to see more of the world. Maybe her brethren are right and all she has seen are exceptions.

Melwen decided to sign on with a Sun Elf trade caravan of about 30 people, as a passenger on her 124th birthday, to travel to the nearby wood elf city of E'halin. With the intent of seeing more of the world and broaden her horizons, to see if the rest of the world is as inferior as her elders say. Up until this point in her life Melwen has not had anything bad happen to her, she has had tearful partings yes, but nothing bad has happened to her. The caravans journey was planed to take 45 days over land to the nearest Wood Elf city. E'halin is fairly close to the border of Wood Elf territory, forcing the caravan to leave Sun Elf lands for about 15 days travel before the last 2 days through Wood Elf lands, being forced to travel over the great plains, a part of the world with a well known reputation of raider and bandits. The first half of the journey was uneventful, besides a few encounters with wildlife. About two thirds of the way through the trip, they came across the remnants of a human caravan. Looted and burned. It was a horrific vista, the burned out husks of covered wagons, carrion birds pecking their way across the remnants of the camp, strewn with at least two dozen bodies, mostly men, with only one or two women amongst the dead. When Melwen first saw the scene, she stopped walking stunned by the horror. Then the stench hit her, and she doubled over and retched. While she took a moment to regain herself, the caravan leader worked his way through the remains of the camp, seeing if anything was left. Then he stops behind one of the wagons, and curses loudly "Orcs." The party quickly leaves the burned out camp traveling on, nothing to be gained for staying around the horrific scene. As they travel on Melwen asks one of the caravan members about Orcs, all she knew was what most Elfs knew. That Orcs are brutish beasts, known for raping, pillaging and looting anything they see, from caravans to elven cities. All orcs are capable of is destroying and taking, not able to create anything more than crude facsimiles of something one of another race made. The experienced caravanner responded with her knowledge of how orcs inhabit this part of the world, and patrol it in large raiding bands. The remainder of the trip looked uneventful, for the next 9 days they traveled on without being molested or met by any creatures. Each night they would stop and make camp in a manner that quickly became routine, the wagons would be circled, large sleeping tents would be pitched at about 6 to a tent, and a cook fire was set. Then after evening meal the caravan had a watch rotation of 4 people up at a time with 2 hour shifts until morning, then they would pack up and continue on their way.  The trip actually had become relaxing and peaceful after she got over the walking. That night however her peace was shattered. Melwen awoke hearing a guttural howl, reaching for her clothes she quickly set to getting to some semblance of decency. In the short minute it took her she heard strange sound after strange sound. First she heard the guttural howl from earlier over and over again from a dozen direction, also she heard the sounds of shouting in elvish and a language she did not recognize, all the strange voices low and deep. Then suddenly she heard a loud wet squelching sound, right outside the tent she shared, along with a weak strangled cry in elvish, the side of her tent being sprayed with rain-like droplets, a thin form slumping against the tent. Melwen scrambles for any sort of weapon, none of her magic available to her. A shrill elven scream echos across the camp, making her hand freeze, the others elf's sheer terror rushes into her. A moment ago she was merely panicked, now her heart is racing in her chest, her hand shaking as she scrambles around for anything to defend herself, a cold sweat running down her spine. Desperate she finds a dagger, grasping the handle as if her life depended on it. Turning towards the flap of the tent, she hears a dreadful ripping sound behind her, but before she can turn around a pair of strong, large hairy hands grasp her ankles. As she is pulled out of the tent, the pitiful knife slips from her hand, her robes riding up as her body is dragged along the rough, pebble strewn ground. Hands scrambling desperately to cover herself, she is draped over the creatures shoulder, screaming her head off, as the hulking beast turns from the camp and slowly walks away. Filled with terror, she screams until her voice goes hoarse. As she slowly returns to focus, the first thing she notices is the stench, radiating for the creature, a thick musk overwhelming and filling her keen elven sense. Along with its thick mat of hair covering its body, she sudden realizes, with a sudden wave of dread where the creatures hand is holding her over its shoulder, and what it intended to do to her. After the orc used her, her and the rest of the surviving women of the caravan were taken prisoner by the orcs. The next 7 months were a living nightmare, her own personal hell.

The band of orc was ambushed by wood elves at the end of her hell. Like vengeful angels their arrows rained down up the orcs, each shaft landing true. Falling like dying leaves, within 5 minutes all of the hundred some orcs were dead. When the slave stockades were broken open, Melwen felt her heart soar. A group of armored wood elves walked into the stockades, breaking chains and handing the now ex-slaves clothes. When the warrior reached her she fell into his arms and cried, her ordeal at its end. Miraculously her things were found in the cache of orc loot, unbroken and untouched. Melwen spent the next month in the wood elf city, while she and the others recovered from the hell.

(Insert reason for traveling to adventure hook here)