Pylar Shaelol

[Lady Nayeli]

I was given the Name
Pylar Shaelol
I was born in the summer
Three Hundred & Sixty Years Ago
My Mother & Father both brought me into the
Elven Heart with a Varden Soul

My mother always called me a strong älfa, I guess I was strong, though, most mothers would say that about their own son. It was not very surprising to me at all. I grew up an only children, with a few other children around, but it was rare and far between to see others like me. I became six feet, five inches tall, like my father. I was blessed with my father’s long, black hair, that was as smooth as any älfa’s hair. I liked my hair, keeping it pulled back into a tight pony-tail and during times of war, making sure I had eagle feathers imbedded in the strands. Mom said it made me look like a slight savage, since when I fought, I fought with no armor, but only a pair of pants on and no shoes since I hated the feeling of them on my feet. My skin, though, naturally pale, is slightly darker then most elves because I used magic to make it seem tanner and such. I did not like the pale look, since I wanted to look like I worked outside, which I did more then most elves. My shoulders had always been slightly squared, showing the muscles that grew along my upper back, arms, and neck area. My chest is very toned, along with my abs, which are a six pack and very detailed. I do not really show them off, but I hate to wear shirts.

My legs are strong from run all the time, which has helped my endurance. When I started my training at a young age, I was always running, though for many months, I lost, I built up my leg muscles and pushed myself harder and harder, working to better myself as a elf and a warrior. During this time, I was always getting in trouble for not wearing a shirt or any form of armor. I hated the feeling of anything on my back. I always wore a pair of brown pants, never black or any other color unless I had to. If I wore any form of shirt, it was long sleeve and never anything fancy, which I truly hate! I also barely wear anything around my neck, unless I was told that it was a must. I do not wear jewelry, except for one article… A ring that holds a small purple stone in it, with my named around the stone. The ring was made by my mother so that I could store energy in it. I also hold a long sword, completely silver, except for the pommel, which is slightly darker and holds a purple gem on the ends of the hand guard and on the very end of the pommel, in circles. I also hold two daggers which look the same but smaller.

I move with a gentle elegance, like all elves like me, but I try to be a little less elegant and ’beautiful’, as some would call it. I don’t like being known as that. I wanted to be known as ramr, not naunen! I am a warrior, not some sissy älfa-kona! I move with great pride, not afraid to fight and ready to be loyal to my home, my family, my friends, and the elves that I have grown to love.

I do however, have my own marking that I have placed on myself during my years, and some that I unwillingly wanted. My first scar was nothing short of my first stupidity moment, where I allowed a blade to make contact with me. I was only 150 years old and I had gone out on a mission for my Queen to find a lone elf who had been causing problems. I did not listen to my training and I ended up with a blade driving into my back, though he was not dead on. I was still able to fight, but I was near death when I got to my home in Ellesméra. My second came when I was 200 years old, but this was no scar, it was a marking I had placed on my skin. I placed it on my shoulder and it looked like the head a wolf, howling into the sky, with a spear behind the beast, and the moon. I had placed it there right before trouble began to boil, but it was something I had always wanted for myself. My last and most recent was from the dragon wars, where I fought along side many riders and watched as each of them died before me. It was across my finely tone chest, where one of the dragons that were against took his claws and missed me by only inches. Well, I say missed, he wanted to hit me full force, but only clipped me with his massive claw.


My father called me a true warrior, which I guess could be called true. I am a quiet elf, not normally talking unless I am talked to. It is just not my nature to walk up to someone and put my hand out and say, ”Hello, I am Pylar!” Sorry friend, don’t count on that one any time soon. I am way different then most elves, who are bubble and full of hyper energy. I would rather burn my energy by running, then dancing around with my hands in the air, yelling and singing at the top of my vocals. To me, that is one way the elf nation truly embarrasses me. I am thankful that most of them only dance and sing like that in the privacy of the forest. I just don’t like attention, it is something I would rather stay far away from, but most the time, it is unavoidable. I hate to be gawked at, it is one of the most annoying things in the world, but after nearly 150 years of it, I guess I really have gotten use to it. I am not very fond of it, but I have to live with it, humans don’t get a chance to see elves much, well, they didn’t get to see elves much and now they got a chance.

I am actually am a really nice guy, just sometimes wish people would leave me alone. It gets rather annoying when people come up to you for no reason just to have a conversation about the sky. What is the point? It is the sky, no reason to get all emotional about it. I don’t get mad very easy, like I use to do. There is just no point in getting mad, I mean, really? What is the point if you can’t do a damn thing about it. There is honestly no point in it and if you can tell me a good point, then I might help you out a little, or well, I may get mad a little. I am pretty much just a mellow guy, not need to get mad and don’t think I don’t have emotion. I keep things plain and blank until I can trust you and then you may get a laugh out of me.


Wow, kind of amazing what can happen, over three hundred and sixty years. I was born to Eilaezalai, my mother and to Sholos, my father. My mother took on my father’s family name of Shaelol, and also took on the same ring, which my father made for her as a symbol of their unending love. After pronouncing their love for each other, the two became conceived with me, their first and only child. They were so happy to know that I would be their child, their hearts were filled with much joy, and I could not blame them. There was only five other elf children during this time, but I did not know them, we were few and far between.

I grew up in the Silverwood Forest, close to today’s Surda. During that time, there was no empire and their was no Surda and most everyone lived in peace. My father was a great fighter and protector of the Silverwood Forest, though many looked up to him as a kind of Leader, he never played such a role. He lead many young men deep into the now empire lands searching for any dragon eggs that belong to wild dragons, hoping see if any could be used for possible rider’s dragons. My father normally came out with at least one egg given to him by a dragon and then he took it to where the other eggs were kept.

As I grew and was able to do more then just be a child, my father started training me by himself, allowing me to learn how to do magic carefully and also how to handle a sword. When I turned 25, I went to the Forest up north and started my training with the other elves my age. I ran daily, working my leg muscles, but I kept to myself more and more. I did not want to be social much, my friends were all down south, near the sea and where the weather was always warm, the north forest was much colder then I was use to. But there was something there I always liked… The presence of the dragons! I had loved them, wanted to be a part of the league, but knew deep down that no dragon would chose me. I was not rider material, but I could always help.

During the time when the eggs chose their riders, I was there to watch all the time. I watched as the elder riders came out and present a egg to a few young people, humans and elves alike, and then after a moment, took the eggs back and waited to see which ones would hatch. Sometimes, they would all hatch, other times, they never hatched. It all depended on the dragon and I got to see it. During my time in the Northern Forest, I was sent on my first lone mission, to find a lone elf and bring him to the Queen… Dead or Alive… I was hoping for more along the lines of alive, but he was the first to attack me and I was left with my nasty scar to show it.

I spend weeks healing from this wound and my teachers lectured me on the importance of wearing more then just my pants. I still only wore pants, the feeling of a shirt on my back only caused annoyance. I had been raised in the south, where the weather is warm and humid, where the women wore very skimpy things and the males wore only their pants. It was something I had been born into. During my time of healing, I also working on magic a little, making sure I could the minor things to help me. When I had to clean out my wound, I worked on my water magic, when I had to light a candle, I worked on my fire. It was simple stuff, but still took the energy from me.

Not long after my attack, my mother presented me with something I had not expected… A beautiful silver ring that held a purple stone. On the ring held my name around the gem and I felt the energy running through the gem. I put it on with ease and during the rest of my training the whole group of others admired my ring. I did not mean to show it off, it kind of just happened. I trained with it daily, stored energy in every night before I rested and every morning before I ate my meal, since the meals restored most of my energy. I wanted to get all the energy I could stored up in this ring and never use it until I had no other chose but to use it. It would be when my body was near death, that was my plan.

After I finished my training, I returned to the Silverwood Forest, helping my father with his mission to find more dragon eggs. I hoped that during this quest one might hatch for me, but one never did. My mother stayed at home, helping with the other families and working on the community garden that everyone helped with. In the evening, I would normally go out there and help. My mother taught me more about plants and herbs then anything in this world, she would show me each thing about them and tell me how to talk to them. It was amazing watching her work with the plants and I wish I had her skills with such things.

I was 270 when things started going down. Galbatorix had lost his dragon, nearly everyone had heard of it and I had going back to the Northern Forest in order to help with anything. I had heard that he had demanded for another dragon, wanting to be the dragon rider that he was… However, he was denied and I was slightly happy for such a thing. I watched as everything cooled down for a few months, until the word came to Du Weldenvarden. A dragon rider had been killed and his dragon was bonded to Galbatorix… I was furious, as were many of the elves where I was. I ran back down to Silverwood Forest. I knew that war was coming, I just had this feeling that came with being a elf. Not a sixth sense, but the forest was very tense and everything was going down.

Galbatorix had gained support to over throw the council and the killings began. I watched as many dragons and riders were killed one by one. The elves armed themselves, ready for a battle. But, it failed… Galbatorix new the places to attack… My home was attacked, our homes burnt and the crops we had grown. My mother and father dead outside there home… No one was alive! It was his fault and I swore that I would one be the end to him. I watched as every dragon disappeared and soon only Galbatorix was left. For years I stayed in the Northern Forest, waiting to do something. When the Varden was formed, I was one of the first to support them and help them in all I could.

I, however, kept returning to the Silverwood Forest to try and rebuild, but no one came with me. I was left to work there alone and make it the home I had always wanted. I tried to bring others back, but no one came. So, I stayed alone, grew a small garden and at times even went deep into the forest hoping to find some trace of wild dragon… Only the nesting areas were left, though messy and unknown.

Then, Eragon came… A many others began to come! The Varden began to fight more and people were rejoicing! I saw the good and returned to the Northern Forest to figure out what I could do. I wanted to help! I knew I could help! I helped the varden a lot, but on one of my travels back to Silverwood Forest, I was intercepted by a shade and ten soldiers, taking to the Prison and set there for weeks. I hated it, did everything I could to think of a way out, but nothing could be done. Until, a young lady and her dragon came and asked me to be a part of a plot… Though, I was told not to say a word by the dragon and I obeyed. I was to act like her slave, along with another female elf.


Roleplaying example:

This was just perfect! First, I was taking another run down to Silverwood Forest in order to help the Varden in a week and now… I was sitting in a blasted cell, unable to do nothing but sit here. My weapons had been taken and something was preventing me from using my energy a whole lot. I could pull water from the air, but other then that, I could not do anything. My ring was the only thing left with me that belonged and I was being forced to wear this blasted shirt! I wanted to go crazy! How in the world did this happen? I was running, about ready to stop for the night and rest until the following more, when ten soldiers came from no where and some shade! Next thing I knew, I was here, completely unaware of how I got here, but I was here. They even made sure to give me a viewless window… One that looked right at the stupid, envious castle. I wish I could of said my curses on that thing, to make it crumble to the ground, but whatever was holding me back only made me weak to think about it. ”Blasted Empire Baffoons!”

[/color] I said silently under my breath as I paced back and forth, trying to think of some way out.

Get those elves! I ran to the door, looking through my bars, though my fingers were hit with some kind of wood stick as I held onto the small black bars. I growled slightly under my breath as I watched. Women were taken from their own cells and towards the main room. It was odd that this was going on, I wanted to see what was happening. ”Get back you worthless Elf!” I step back as a large guard came towards me from the outside. He was lucky that I could not use my energy. I narrowed my eyes, my emerald years looking directly at him. I smoothed my hair back slightly and then looked around my cell. I set down against the wall, counting the moments gone by. I could hear men yelling back and forth between each other, even a baby crying because the mother had been placed in his hell hole.

I wanted to go CRAZY!!! What the hell did I do? Be born? I was older then probably half the blasted people in here and I was being treated like nothing. I felt the shirt stretch over my scared back and over my scared chest. My tattoo was showing on my shoulder of the wolf howling, with a spear behind it and a moon. I knew, it was a odd tattoo, but I liked it and I wanted it. My mother had not liked it when I had gotten it, but no matter. I heard guards walking by again, the jangle of keys and then my door open up. ”Stand up Elf!” I stood, though a little quicker then expected and my body was in a quick fighting stance. I felt them grab me and push me out the door, joining the other elf men. I looked around.

As I entered the main room, the women were gone, minus three and two I could tell were not elves. One I could tell was a elf. I saw a Dragon, which meant a imperial rider and then I saw him… Murtagh… The trader! The woman walked towards the group, all of use in a line. She looked over everyone, but stopped on me again. Her black dragon came up, his eyes different from so many I had seen, but those eyes were so familiar… They looked like the eyes of the dragon I had fought along side, who’s rider had died and she had gathered other riderless dragons to go and fight the now King of the Empire… They held the same everything, but this dragon was black, with stunning ice blue eyes. ”Your name, elf.”[/color] I looked at her for a moment, my eyes looking into her own.

”I am Pylar, Argetlam, I am a elf warrior from Du Weldenvarden… I was captured over one month ago out in the Spine by Soldiers and a Shade who’s name is unknown to me.”[/i][/color] She looked at me for just a moment, her head then nodding in response before her dragon’s head came forward, his mind brushing mine and I gave entrance. Her voice played in my head again, but his voice echoed with it.

”We are helping the Varden and we want you to be on our team… The girl beside me, Arwen, is also doing the same… Murtagh does not know because he is too close to the team… Just tell me if you wish to help and I will have the guards here release you, but you will need to stay with me and my dragon.”[/color] I looked at the dragon for just a moment, taking everything in about him. ”I am Nayeli, and I am searching for two elves to travel with me and work for me.”[/color] I looked at her for just a moment, thinking about this. I did not allow my eyes to waver, this was a big deal, but it could also be a trick and I did not need anyone tricking me. I looked at the dragon, meeting his ice cold gaze and then returning my eyes back to her.

”I will work for you.”[/color] I saw her smile and then she turned her head to another elf. I could not believe I had just agreed to work with a Dragon Rider of the empire. I did not allow my gaze to show such a thing, but I was scared and I was not sure if I could trust this woman.

Word Count: 0,963 (With Coding)
Tagged: Lady Nayeli & Osiris
Comment: I think it was pretty Good!
Color Code: Nayeli = E54C4C :: Osiris = A92929 :: Pylar Shaelol = 831F83
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[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

Woot, another character! XD Accepted!