Nathaniel was born Kenneth Helefern, given name of Kenneth because he was born of fire. Like many members of his clan, he trained in the art of combat and also of sorcery. When he became of age, the Elders bestowed upon him the name of Alastair, for he was a Defender of men. Traditionally, when one reaches adulthood, the chose which path to follow, be it combat or sorcery, having been brought up in training through all fields of expertise, the Sharakim people did nothing small. Alastair did not wish to chose between sorcery and combat. He had heard and read glorious tales in which brave warriors sought out Elven masters and learned how to blend the two ways together. Whent he time came for him to stand before the elders and declare his path for the future, he stood proudly and told them he intended to find himself an Elven Master and become a Duskblade, warrior of sorcery. His fellows mocked and jested that no Elf would ever take one of their kind as a student, but he was determined. The Council of Elders understood fully what it would mean should he succeed. Glory and honor, his name forever immortalized in song, should he truly become the first Duskblade of the Helefern Clan. They decided to honor his request and sent him on his way, granting him the use of a horse and gold for his expenses along the way.
   Alastair was only 10 went he left his family, friends, and home behind in search of a mentor to train him. He knew that any self respecting Elf would be hard pressed to accept someone who looked as he did as an apprentice, let alone even be seen conversing with him! He knew if he could just be given a chance to explain, that he could convince one to teach him, perhaps even accept him. It took far longer than he had hoped, and cost him far more than he anticipated to even be granted an audience with an Elven Master. His coin purse was nearly empty when he happened to come across Aranion Birvaul, in the city of Kornyth, on the outskirts of the border between the Elven and Human territories. The Elf demanded the last of his gold just to be seen in the same room as him! After discussing matters for well into the night, the elf saw the determination in young Alastair, the drive for devotion in him. He simply could not refuse to train the Sharakim. Together they journeyed far from the prying eyes of man, retreating to the secluded training fields in the Elven mountains of Faelandalan. The training was hard and relentless, it took much out of the young Sharakim. However, never did the man falter, never did his determination waiver.
   It was several years later that the mentor decided his pupil was finally prepared. He waited until Alastair was finished with his morning regiment before calling the man to him. He explained how it was a surprising pleasure to train him all these years. The Sharakim had never ceased to amaze him every step of the way. Alastair was beaming as his master showered him with such lavish praise. It pained him greatly when he was told that his training had come to an end. There was nothing more that he could be taught. Now was the time to go and learn by experience. Aranion did however, have one gift to bestow upon his student. Alastair was not the only one who had learned a few things over the years. Aranion knew the value and pride that the Sharakim people placed in names. He required his student to kneel, and placing his hand to Alastair's forehead, declared the man's name to now be Netaneil, or Nathaniel as it would be pronounced in Common tongue, stating that training him had truly been a gift from the gods.




Nathaniel Alastair