Born in 1431DR to Cordelion Romyanar, a rather eccentric sun-elf, and Elenaisis Velusa, a human female who was a ranger from Waterdeep, Arkdelion grew up in a rather loving environment in Cormanthor despite being a half-elf.
It was perhaps his lineage which compelled the largely Ar-Tel’Quessir community of Myth Drannor to accept him as one of their own. His late grandfather, Kaldelion, hailed from the northern fishing town of Elion in Evermeet(the Green Isle) which faced the Trackless Sea.
Kaldelion was a member of the Elion council, which though loyal to Evermeet’s rulers, would rather maintain neutrality in political and military issues.
All that changed though in 1374DR when the Daemonfey staged an assault on Evermeet and hence was seen the first sign of eccentricity in the House of Romyanar.
Seiveril Miritar, governor of Elion, raised the banner in response to the attack and Kaldelion almost immediately answered the call to arms along with his son, Cordelion and 300 Elven fighters loyal to the House of Romyanar of Elion( almost a fifth of Elion’s population) much to the surprise of the Council.
The combined forces of Evermeet managed to turn back the demonic assault but Seiveril Miritar was not finished. He resigned his governorship and stepped down from the Council of Elion and announced that he would leave Evermeet for Myth Drannor, to rid the elves of the Daemonfay and Sarya Dlardageth once and for all. Seiveril then appealed for volunteers for this noble expedition. The first to answer his call? House Romyanar of Elion.
A tale for another time, not only did the Elven army destroy the Daemonfay but they also recaptured Myth Drannor and the legendary city is now almost back to its former glory of ages past. Seiveril’s daughter, Ilsevele is the new Coronar of Cormanthyr, ruling alongside her husband, the legendary Fflar Starbrow Melruth, who himself was resurrected by Seiveril in the crusade for Myth Drannor.
Kaldelion Romyanar fell in battle, leading a heroic counter-charge when Seiveril himself was cut down by the hellish hordes of Sarya and the Daemonfaye in the final battle for Myth Drannor within the city itself.
The House of Romyanar, along with its fiercely loyal warriors who numbered less than thirty at the end of the crusade, gained new prominence and prestige as one of the new military Houses of Myth Drannor. As the new head of the House, Cordelion Romyanar was appointed one of the High Generals of Cormanthyr.
At 48 years old, Arkdelion was still young by any given half-elven standards but already an accomplished warrior defending the borders of Cormanthyr whenever the need to arose. In his free time, he spent the days in the libraries of Myth Drannor.
A particular character had always captivated him ever since he first read her story as a young lad. It was the story of Valindra Shadowmantle. To him, hers was a tragic tale about an intelligent and captivatingly beautiful moon-elf who lost her way and eventually turned undead and also, unfortunately, evil.
Arkdelion had always wondered what he would do if the opportunity came that would pit him against her. It did not take long. A call for adventurers and heroes from Lord Neverember of Neverwinter came to Cormanthyr along with the wagons of a Dwarven trader, Huerder Smashfoot, himself an acquaintance of Arkdelion.
“Did you not hear, Ark? That old hag, Valindra did done attacked Neverwinter.” Huerder muttered in between sips of his soup while they were both sitting around the campfire of Huerder’s trade caravans in the woods outside of Myth Drannor.
“THE Valindra, Huey? The one I keep talking to you about?”
“Yeap! The one and the same.” Came Huerder’s nonchalant reply.
It took much convincing but at the persuasion of his mother, his father eventually relented. A week after that meeting with Huerdar, Arkdelion found himself at the port of Waterdeep, about to board the ship bound for Neverwinter.
“Hey Half-elf! Where ye be from?’ Arkdelion heard a gruffy voice ask. He turned to his left and found himself facing a burly man standing at least half a head taller.
“Depends on who asks.”
“Heheh. Kyljoye be my name. I am from here. Heard Neverwinter found herself buried deep in Undead and am eager to shovel her out of that rut. My sword arm is aching with the anticipation.” He arched his right shoulder to add further emphasis while wearing a smirk upon his face.
Arkdelion found him amusing and decided a talking buddy on the short voyage would not do any harm.
“I am Arkdelion of House Romyanar and I hail from Cormanthyr.”
Kyljoyle grinned and his previously grim face turned kind in doing so.
“Cormanthor eh! Welcome lad to Waterdeep! So this House Romyanar thing…does it mean anything in my language?”
At the same time, the call to board came and everyone surged towards the ship.
As he paced alongside the burly Kyljoyle, Arkdelion smiled and turned to his new-found companion.
“House Romyanar? It means “House of the Rising Sun.”
Kyljoyle allowed a few seconds to pass in silent contemplation and he eventually responded.
“Well I’ll be damned if a bard does not turn that into a song one day!”