Hot tempered half-elf who likes to hit things.
Speaks loudly and carries a bigger stick.
This half-elf is the son of a human prostitute and an unknown Windward Elf. His mother, Vira, worked at The Pearly Gates – a brothel in one of the rougher areas of Southern Vedegras. Without ever really thinking about it, she just assumed throughout her pregnancy that the father of her child was a human, and was as stunned as anyone to see Dolvan with his pointed ears and delicate features. Only after giving birth did she remember the drunken Windward Elf who had been reluctantly dragged into The Pearly Gates by his equally inebriated friends. Vira always considered it a good omen that despite astronomical odds, the only High Elf she ever slept with was also the only time she ever became pregnant. She teasingly referred to Dolvan as her “one in a million chance.”
Dolvan, however, is not so pleased with his heritage. Growing up in such a poor area, he can’t help but resent the wealth and status, not to mention the arrogance, that the Windward Elves casually flaunt. He tries to distance himself from them anyway he can – growing a beard to cover his Elvish features, trying (unsuccessfully) to hide his ears behind his hair, using a mace or club instead of the more “noble” Elven swords and bows, etc. However, in some ways this is all a sham. In a part of his psyche that he won’t even acknowledge, Dolvan wishes to see the Windward Isles and have access to their wonders. His disgust with the opulence and elitism of the Elven culture is ultimately the envy and rage of one who has been denied that to which he feels entitled. Not that he would ever admit this, even to himself.