Magic is equal parts art and artifice: much like life itself.
Description: A certain austerity defines the features of this masculine elf--his cheekbones are angular, jaw firmly set. An ancient and silvered scar mars his jawline, the sign of some long-ago conflict. White-blonde hair spills thickly about his back and shoulders when unbound, long and well-tended. With flesh nearly as pale, his visage would be monochromatic were it not for his eyes. They are colored vivid green, here and there spotted with darker color, like chips of malachite in a pool of emerald. He moves with an energy and vibrancy to match even the youngest elf, but a few strands of dull grey have begun to creep in at his temples: the first sign of time's relentless march.
Personality: Dalarin is something of a mercurial fellow: it has even been said that there are two Dalarins. Normally, he is amiable and exuberant, happy to speak with anyone on near any topic, be it the intricacies of the Lifewell or the minutiae of what woods are best used in cabinetry. At times, however, he is prone to melancholy, becoming withdrawn, distant, and at his worst, even acrimonious. Nonetheless, he consistently demonstrates a strong sense of responsibility: he is prone to trying to take on other people's problems and make them his own.
Background: One of the more aged of Faenor's kin, Dalarin has been a fixture of the House Ingith for many years. Few elves living better understand the arts mystic. As a magister of the arcane, he has freely lent his talents to all the Five Houses, and continues to do so to this day. He is known for subtle arts of enchantment and illusion, and also for calling upon a potent flame that can drive off even the chill of mountain winter.
Being well into his sixth century, Dalarin's memory is a long one, filled with memories of many elves whose bodies are now gone to dust. During his youth, his education was tended to by those who remembered only the long ages of the Faenor's seclusion, and even today, he still thinks of the elves of the mountains as a race apart, even if he is outwardly committed to unity.
During the Eradication War, he took the battlefield with a contingent of many of the world's finest mages, and in the early stages of the conflict, they managed to make some dent into the Host. Dalinar and his wife Aura were an inseparable pair upon the battlefield, their love for one another strengthening their selfless resolve. Unfortunately, she perished in battle against the Host's vanguard, and Dalinar was grievously wounded. The wound was as much spiritual as it was physical, and sapped away no small portion of his strength. He spent much of the exodus an invalid, and has only recently recovered.
Now a tireless figure, always willing to help build up the new lands of the elves, he has nonetheless issued dolorous pronouncements: He fears the return of the Host. Such mutterings have won him few friends. The notion that the old foe might follow the elves to their new home is a prophecy that few indeed have patience for.