Nicodemus was born an only child in his family's home to a poor estate in Erubesco, and was raised in part by his mother and father, and in part by his ailing Grandfather. His father was a jeweler, and was often away from home on various trips to sell his wares, sending home what little he could afford to. His mother was a maid, and often worked in the wealthier parts of town cleaning things of both common and horrific nature. When he was three years old his primary Care-taker and Grandfather, Alistair Hathaway, began to develop acute psychosis, for which he was bedridden. The occasional doctor or nurse that the household had been able to afford claimed that his psychosis and hallucinations were likely caused by syphilis, Alistair however died many years later without the infection present in his biology.

Despite the belief of medical professionals, Alistair swore that he was not sickly by any means that perpetuated among men, but that he was paying the price for knowledge long forbidden. From an early age, Nicodemus was exposed to the numerous hallucinations of his Grandfather and eventually began to have hallucinations of his own, often experiencing ones almost identical to Alistair's. Beginning at the age of Four, Nicodemus had been labeled clinically insane, although harmless; the same diagnosis as his Grandfather. For almost two years Nicodemus suffered these visions and night-terrors; whispers of entities old and harrowing, visions of catastrophes and apocalypses, and hallucinations of faceless beasts holding his body still throughout the night. Without any means to express himself, to unleash the Hells held within him, he turned to writing and poetry, both of which he shared only with his Grandfather.

His Grandfather consoled him throughout his early life, much to the anguish of his ever-absent parents, and Alistair refereed to his Grandson as a prodigy. Nicodemus didn't care much for the assessment of his writing, but his Grandfather was right. Even at such a young age, Nicodemus's writing was astute and visual, and those whom his Grandfather shared his writing with were astounded at the terror felt by reading a child's poetry, and it wasn't long until peculiar individuals began to pay hefty sums for Nicodemus's works.

At the age of 12, Nicodemus's first Novella was Published, a short story called "The Waters of Nisceir." His book recieved little attention outside of niche circles at first, but soon began to spread and fester among the shelves of those with a love for dread and cosmic horror. Not long after his publications growing popularity his household could afford his mother's early retirement, and after Nicodemus's fourth publication, at the age of 13, his father did the same.

His house was full, and his Parents were happy for a time, until Nicodemus made the decision to emancipate himself from them, cutting them off from their excessive spending of his own profit. He continued to provide them with more than enough money to live comfortable lives, all three of them, until his Father's greed led to his Grandfather being taken to a "home." At this, Nicodemus was furious, and immediately seized their income through his own volition, and using the money he had once given to his parents, Nicodemus purchased a small home for himself and his grandfather. Both his Mother and Father were forced to return to work, as their excessive lifestyle had left them without a dime in their savings.

After this separation, Things went well for Nicodemus and Alistair for a few years, Nicodemus's works became more and more popular with each publication, and as such his income continued to grow exponentially. However, at the age of 15, both he and his Grandfather's hallucinations became incredibly intense and consistent. Both of the Hathaway men could be seen from the outside world, wandering their house and screaming, whimpering, and whispering to themselves. For a period of two years, both Nicodemus and his Grandfather were plagued by numerous visions a day, heard the whispering of monsters every waking moment, and in their sleeping hours felt the looming presence of things so old that time itself seemed young in comparison.

There was only so much an old man could handle, before giving up to the whispers.

On the morning of his Sevententh birthday, Nicodemus awoke to find that the whispering had silenced, the entities that haunted his sleep were gone, and the visions that so often pounded in to his psyche were absent for the first time in years. With nothing but silent joy, Nicodemus nearly ran to his Grandfather's room, but found something so twisted there, that it haunts him to this day, and will likely do the same until the day he gratefully dies.

It was then; the day of his seventeenth birthday that his long dormant powers had awakened, and it was the day he abandoned what he had come to know as his home.

Fleeing to the Ashlands, he simply wandered for a time, traversing the sands instantaneously, and he began to become something of a folk legend; Eld Fen. His behavior was strange and terrifying for those unfortunate enough to witness him, as he would always stand just far enough away from villages or towns that he could see them; But, this meant they could see him as well. Whispers and rumors of a warped entity wandering the wastes, a being that could appear and disappear within moments, a being without a face.

After a bit of time, Nicodemus discovered one of the Largest villages out in the wastes, and he decided to settle there. So, he made himself a cabin from sand that couldn't have been large enough to contain more than a single small room, but the rumors of it's vast hallways and beautiful rooms began to spread, and people began to sneak in to the building to catch a glimpse of the faceless being and it's home.

This however, often proved to be the downfall of many a wastelander; as his home was not only vast, but infinite, and ever changing. Those that dared more than a glimpse into what had been named the "Yellow Cabin" often fell to insanity, wandering the infinite and shifting hallways until they died of dehydration or exhaustion. Only one man had ever survived a journey into the Yellow Cabin, but he had succumbed to a madness so severe that he could only talk in languages no one knew or understood, and likely didn't exist.

It was here in this Cabin that Eld Fen lived for nearly five years, growing his power and understanding his abilities. However, around the four year mark he was visited by a small group of Ashlanders, a group that was quite clearly not native to the immediate vicinity. Rather than just open the door to his home and enter, they had knocked and been very polite, albeit taken aback by the warped figure who curiously opened the door to the small cabin. After requesting quarters, he let them in immediately and explained the nature of his home; that it's structure was in constant shift and unless he escorted them they must remain in sight of the cabin's entrance.

That had been nearly a year ago, and he had since accompanied them in their travels through the Ashlands. His position in the group was simple, he would provide them with housing and often told them stories so chilling that sleep was occasionally difficult to achieve.

Not every member of the Wanderers was fond of him, but those that were found a good and powerful, albeit insane, friend.