Malcolm Tidesleeper

Folks say Malcolm was raised by mermaids, or selkies. They say his mother was a mighty pirate queen who was afraid of what her enemies might do to her son, had in secret, so she left him on the docks with salty tears in her eyes. They say Malcolm's father was a sailor and his mother a water elemental, a tragic story of love between a sailor and the sea. It was always fun to make up stupid stories, most orphans do. But that's all Malcolm was, an orphan. He grew up on the docks and the fisherman and traders and charlatans that worked there were his family. He slept in a dozen houses, on the decks of boats that sit at the dock at night. Anywhere that would take him.

He learned everything he knows from the men on those docks. When he was 15, he finally was able to join a crew for some time. Since the sailors that came through knew him, he got lucky in his choice of ships. During one voyage, he learned how to fight from a swordsman who'd booked the boat for passage. After about a year at sea, he got off at the next port, content to work the harbors again. He did this again 3 years later, when he was 19, and has been back and forth between ports since. Throughout his adolescence, he learned as much as he could from the men and women he worked with. Being a sea elf also meant he could do a lot of jobs that others couldn't, what with his ability to breathe underwater. He was never all that smart, but he always tried his best to absorb the knowledge people tried to pass onto him, even if it took him a bit longer. He never read much. Honestly, he kind of despised rich educated folk, especially since they'd always be the type to look down on hardworking harborfolk like himself and his comrades. Seemed stupid to him, if they were so smart why not just sail your own boat? Checkmate, athiests. 

Anyhow, with as much time as he'd spent out at sea and working at various ports, he thought he'd try to go out even further with his skills, put them up for work. He'd become a fine swordsman, and he heard from someone on the docks that adventurers make fine money. Most of his life, he'd barely scraped by, not that he was complaining, but sometimes you want to live a little. And eat finer things than the fisherman's stalls leftover fish.