Nil doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: No Information
Born: No Information
Website: No Information
Alias: No Information
Age: No Information
Plotter Link: No Information
Application Link: No Information
Custom Title: No Information
Joined: 3-October 17
Last Seen: Nov 19 2017, 01:21 PM
Local Time: Nov 24 2017, 12:37 PM
3 posts (0.1 per day)
( 0.33% of total forum posts )
Oct 5 2017, 11:56 PM
Race: Wood Elf
Allegiance: Athel Loren
Appearance: Tall and lithe, Saeran possesses many of the tell-tale features of the Asrai that some may say are beautiful. Her elbow-length hair is a rosewood blonde that is prone to finding its way out of most holdings, and so she often lets it flow free. The world around her is reflected in a pair of amber eyes set beneath dark, thin eyebrows and above a nose with a slight upward bend. She has a soft face and a strong chin, covered in a fair skin that freckles easily beneath the sun. Though she carries herself with confidence and a beguiling grace, Saeran is fairly strong, and has finely tuned muscles that show surprising quickness when outnumbered. She wears a set of light scout’s clothes set in the soft tones of the forest - greens, browns, and dusty grays - and is rarely, if ever, seen anywhere without her bow and the quiver at her hip. A faded set of puncture marks rests on her right forearm, a reminder that the beloved forest she calls her home is not always welcoming.
Clothing: Typical Wood Elf scout clothes, composed of tough but light leathers and hides and meant for movement. This includes a pair of knee-high boots made for wading and arm bracers. She has a hooded cloak of a deep green that seems to betray the eye when she enters the woods.
Weapons: Her beloved bow, a finely crafted piece of felled forest wood from her father; a quiver full of sharp, black arrows that you hope don’t end up lodged in your appendages; and a steel dagger, mostly for a last resort or for preparing her next meal.
Items: A small bundle of parchment, a few pieces of charcoal (most broken down to small nubs), and a canteen for water. These are kept in a small traveling pack.
Skills: Like all Wood Elves, Saeran is highly skilled with a bow and boasts deadly aim; it may be wiser to catch her unawares with her dagger, which she wields with far less skill, if catch her one can. She possesses a wide array of knowledge about plants and animals, and has no difficulty taking care of herself in the wild. Stealth is her fortitude. Life as a Waywatcher means she is knowledgeable of forest traps, and, should danger arise, quite talented at disappearing into its embrace to wait for safety to return. She is athletic and nimble, noticeably quick on her feet, and a talented climber, able to scale many a tree.
Personality: Saeran is a mild-mannered Wood Elf, and, despite her aloof and solitary nature, one might even consider her polite. A life in the great woods of her people’s forests has given her a rough outer layer that is at times cautious, but done little to dampen her curiosity in its wonders - and the dangers that threaten it. To those outside of Athel Loren, she appears slow to trust others and their intentions; likewise, her appearingly selfish demeanor and disinterest in others’ affairs does not allow her to create allies easily. Friendships with those outside of her kin are not impossible, but highly unlikely, for Saeran has difficulty identifying with goals outside of her own, even if they have the same end result as hers - something she struggles to imagine, especially as she travels the world. It is possible to catch her interest with a verse of well-crafted words or a riddle.
History: There are many curiosities in Athel Loren, and many more in Saeran’s home realm of Torgovann. The daughter of weaponsmiths, she was an inquisitive child, easily interested in the creation of the things all around her and their purpose. But interested though she was, it was not to be her calling. As the forest spirits found themselves both drawn to and wary of Vaul’s Anvil, Saeran found herself drawn to the shadows beyond the beech trees, curious and fearful of what lay beyond. As the years grew, it was not unusual to find her tasks around her family forge left unfulfilled as she wandered toward the forests’ lure. When she came of age to learn the bow, she grew more bold - too bold for the likes of her parents, who decided that, if she could not resist the songs of the glade’s shadows, it would do her good to possess the skills to protect herself. They had already lost one child to the dangers of the woods long before her arrival, and they could not bear to part with another.
Saeran did not argue. She entered the study of Wood Elf scouts as an eager student, but quickly discovered there was much to learn about the forests they called home - and with that knowledge, dangers. But it did not deter her. She enjoyed her tasks and the others in her field, and the long, quiet moments spent in the wood’s embrace. Indeed, she seemed more drawn to them than the mirthful halls. This proved a useful trait for the Waywatchers, and eventually she would emerge as a skilled guardian of her people’s borders.
Yet the more rooted she felt to the great forest that birthed her, the more she realized something within it was changing. The beastmen came in numbers greater with each passing season, and there were rumors on the lips of others of strange happenings in the north of the world. Indeed, how many strangers did she stop from entering her people’s realm without learning the secrets they harbored? With all of this came a bitter reminder that the Asrai shared a fate with a realm they cared little for. Now, sent forth on a scouting mission unlike any she has encountered before, Saeran bears the burden of discovering the threat lingering on the horizon - lest Athel Loren be lost forever.
Player Name: Nil
Feedback Format: PM, please!
They had chosen her, and she had agreed. It was a humbling and terrifying reality.
She stood on the edge of the glen, surveying it from the ground even though the limbs above called to her, enticed her with the safety of their shadows. How many years had she patrolled this very spot - and why, even with the number weighing heavy in her mind, did it now feel as if it somehow thought less of her? Saeran knelt down, pressing her palm against the earth below her. She was not the only one to go, but knowing that she must go alone, that there were adventures and dangers of equal measure facing her as great as any of the Wildwood, gave the young elf a mix of elation and apprehension.
She drew her fingers along a blade of grass. The lands beyond had mysteries she did not yet grasp - and soon could - but Athel Loren was where she belonged. She knew the paths above her like the curves on her palms; could travel them in the darkness of Modryn or the brightness of Arranoc. She longed for the hunt of its beasts and its enemies, and had felled both too often to count. To leave it felt like a gift she had pined for, though now, with it opened in her hands, she wondered if she would come to regret its possession. Could she be both curious of the world and yet care nothing for it?
A leaf floated down toward her. Her eyes held it as it landed softly on the grass. Its edges were tinted with the pale, yellow blight of death. But where there was death, there was rebirth. Like Orion and his hunt, so long as these glens stood for her people, that circle would go on unbroken. But only if they could protect it...and only if she returned.
Saeran straightened. She loved Athel Loren - and, thus, she knew she must leave it. Inhaling the scent of the woods one final time and imprinting it upon her senses as best she could, she drew up the hood of her cloak and did not look back.
Oct 5 2017, 06:32 PM
Hey there peoples, what's shakin'? I'm Nil. I followed Creazil over from another board we were on and thought I'd drop a line. I'm new to the lore but looking forward to flexing my writing muscles in a new universe. Huzzah.
See you around!