Hullo! Nice to meetcha! The name's Raff. ...Okay, if you're insisting on my full name it's- don't laugh- Rafion Goldenstrings. Please just call me Raff, though. My full name is the unfortunate result of being the offspring of an elf and a bard. Oh, and tack on "of the Order of the Fleet Fox", and you have a name that's far too long for any one person, even the ones with pointy ears where long names seem to be compulsory.

Right. Moving on. As you can probably guess from the fox thing, I'm a Messenger. A priest of Hermes. I know, I know- that's a human god and I certainly don't look like someone who'd fit into that priesthood. I'm not the only half-elf, but there certainly aren't many like me in the order. But, hey, Hermes is a Trickster, right? An almost-ranger-bard was probably a requirement to add more chaos to the ranks. Yup, you heard me right. I'm a priest with both warrior and minstrel training and was well on my way to becoming a ranger when I was Called by Hermes. Now that was an entirely unexpected, drastic change, let me tell ye! Unexpected and drastic, but absolutely amusing and different, so I was quite fine with the sudden change of plans. Well... except for the "no harmful weapons" thing. That irked me- it still irks me, really. But the mischief, magic, and traveling more than make up for the fact that I can now wield little more than a stick. A stick with a silver fox on the end, I'll give you, but still a stick. Which now has teethmarks in it from my dog trying to fetch it, by the way.

(... oh, hush. You did so try to fetch it. ... Just sit, would ye? ... No, you can't play with the mouse- you scare him when you chase him around.) Sorry, the shaggy mutt is annoyed that we're ignoring him and is reminding me that I should introduce my companions, too. ... Yes, I can talk to the dog, but no, I'm not crazy (shut it, Jack). That goes with being a priest of Hermes- most of us can speak with animals, although usually they're not as vocal as Jack here. The mouse hiding on my shoulder is Rhy and that cardinal perched in the tree yonder is Neru.

Okay, now that I've got all the introductions finished, I can continue. I'm a Messenger errant- this means that I don't work out of a particular mosque and instead travel from place t'place with whatever delivery I'm handed at the time. My home, as well as my heart, is back in Woodland, though; that's where I had my training as a youth. I'm not really sure why that wasn't chosen as a home base for me. Maybe the higher ups thought I'd do the most good always traveling? Maybe they needed a token non-human traveling out there openly? Who knows? I'm pretty happy with that decision, whatever the reason was.

Do I mind being a half-elf around humans? Nah, that's never been a problem. Personally, it's never bothered me and I'm all for being unique (and, okay, strange). I did spend the first half of my life mostly around elves before joining up with humans, so I've had the best of both worlds- 'though that does mean that my speech is a mishmash sometimes, ye ken? Anyway, as for outside forces... well, people don't generally mess with Messengers. Only the very stupid would insult those literate people who carry important news and correspondences, and the wisest recall that we're tricksters as well as letter-carriers. It's never a good idea to mess with practical jokers. Trust me on this.

I'd stay and chat, but I really haveta get going. I have a message I must deliver that's already been delayed too long. Maybe we'll meet again in another city someday... although I'll warn ye: you may not recognize me if our paths cross again when I'm not on an assignment- and even if you do, I'll likely answer with a different voice to a different name. There's a chance it'd be more unusual than my real one, but I doubt it.