Daemon Snow

Daemon Snow - The Brightest - Da'at
"Useless Magi-Man..."

-Captain Mogar

Much of the histories were lost, so this account of Daemon was pieced together from testimony from elder Ironborn. Specifically decedents of the late Captain "Mogar":

An outcast all of his life, Daemon learned to live isolated from others. Choosing instead to keep his nose down, and in as many books as he could find.

He lived with the only soul that ever cared for him, his sickly grandmother.

Never knowing his father, and his mother dieing in child birth left scars in Daemon's life that ran deep. A Bastard with no means, A pariah in a society made of mostly Genasi unwelcoming to his foreign blood, and an Awkward youth Daemon was certainly given a rough lot in life.

He would escape in stories of wild adventure. Demons and angels, gods and men, He found these tales more real than the stale harsh life around him.

Every passing year the certainty of his continued mundane life would etch itself into Daemon, growing ever more clear he wasn't meant for anything he had hoped for. His illusions of Grandeur remain just that and nothing more.

Deep yearnings for adventure would be buried under cowardice, and lack of self confidence.

The constant bullying of his peers wouldn't help either.

But still, somewhere within, a pulse beat. A surge that was soon awakened when several strangers stumbled into town looking for answers. He would meet with a hooded man who gift a strange golden ring to him. This ring would spark the Blue flame within Daemon igniting his casting ability as a Blue sorcerer. An extreme rarity, and the reason for the intrigue into research of this elusive character.

Other surprisingly more cryptic references to Daemon Snow's history were found in the Paradise of Gwenclan.

Suggesting he was the "Brightest before his fall, Splitting the darkest shadow from the purest light" This account however came into question as the records suggested Daemon "Walked eons in a moment" and lived on "Beyond the Lines drawn in the void on branches black as oil, but bearing fruit bright as stars" The Grand archivists researching the matter determined this was an over-exaggeration on the part of creative story telling.