Post by nuada on May 8, 2009 14:55:49 GMT -5
Note: this was about 8 paragraphs longer originally but then my Internet glitched and I lost it all.
Name:Nuada Aiedail, Lord of Kirtan
Age:1000?
Race:Elf
Appearance:Nuada is, as any elf strangely attractive, in a foreign and alien way. Even among his own people, however, he is considered handsome. Unusually for an elf his hair is bright red and he wears it long, with no trace of a beard as is elven custom.
Not all about him is beautiful though, for his left side is horribly scarred from wounds taken in the Fyrn Skulblaka. Though he has long since regained use of the left of hid body he keeps the scars still, as a reminder of the harsh lessons he learned long ago.
To cover this he wears clothes that cover most of his body and a pair of finely woven gloves. His clothes are fine by any standard and very ornate. He goes nowhere without his blade, crafted by Rhunon herself long before the doom of the riders. He is never far from his other weapons, his bow and long spear - an archaic weapon, long since passed out of common use.
Personality: Nuada is, for an elf, unbalanced. He is violent and quick to fight, much more so than is normal for any elf and is often incomprehensible or simply vacant. Much of his time is spent in Du Weldenvarden with the wild elves with whom he shares so many traits.
Once he possessed an irrational hatred of the dragons, because of the dragon wars. Now however that has shifted to an utter loathing of all things to do with the forsworn and worst of all Galbatorix.
Of all the oldest elves he was always the strongest advocate of war and intervention into Alagesia. For many years he fought all foes who threatened the forest and in recent times called for all out war against Galbatorix, a call which has been, to his unending happiness, answered.
History: Long ago in the time of the Fyrn skulblaka Nuada was but a common soldier, fighting the dragons with his people. At the height of the war he faced down a Green dragon, leaving himself gravely wounded unto death. Only the end of the war and the subsequent immortality of the elves that saved his life.
With the war ended he was out of place, a warrior in a peaceful realm. Though he wished to continue the war he dared not go against the will of the king. Instead he joined a like minded group and set off for the edge of the forest, to the new outpost of Kirtan.
Over time the extremists of Kirtan Softened their views, left or were slain. Soon Nuada was one of the few old Kirtans left. Now one of the leaders of the small community he continued to lead their warriors, few as they were to do battle with any foe.
Over time his blood-thirst and love of war grew until it finally pushed him over the brink into insanity. He returned to Kirtan and did battle with his old rival, Varean - the last of the old extremists. He would have slain Varean on the spot had not the townsfolk intervened.
Varean fled and was never heard of again in Kirdan, leaving Nuada as sole lord of the outpost. Soon he drew to him the most dangerous and vicious elves and trained them to become a deadly force. By now the warriors were nearly equal in number to the old inhabitants.
The townsfolk were outraged by Nuada's actions and his personal army. The conflict in the town was escalating even as word reached Nuada of Galbatorix's betrayal. The town was silent as he led his host to do battle alongside the king.
When he reached the field of battle however, he found the battle lost and the king dead. In anger and pride Nuada led his fresh warriors in a vicious counter attack, before fighting a rearguard action as the remains of the elven host fled into Du Weldenvarden.
Until the day the seal was set Nuada continued to fight and attack the empire, driving the humans from the great forest. For years now he has petitioned the queen to allow him to fight once more. With the march of the elves to the aid of the Varden his prayers have been answered.
Now he leads a force ahead of the main elven force, riding with speed to once more do battle with the enemies of the elves.
Roleplaying example:
How did you find us? Link on Realms of Arda
Age:25
Name:Nuada Aiedail, Lord of Kirtan
Age:1000?
Race:Elf
Appearance:Nuada is, as any elf strangely attractive, in a foreign and alien way. Even among his own people, however, he is considered handsome. Unusually for an elf his hair is bright red and he wears it long, with no trace of a beard as is elven custom.
Not all about him is beautiful though, for his left side is horribly scarred from wounds taken in the Fyrn Skulblaka. Though he has long since regained use of the left of hid body he keeps the scars still, as a reminder of the harsh lessons he learned long ago.
To cover this he wears clothes that cover most of his body and a pair of finely woven gloves. His clothes are fine by any standard and very ornate. He goes nowhere without his blade, crafted by Rhunon herself long before the doom of the riders. He is never far from his other weapons, his bow and long spear - an archaic weapon, long since passed out of common use.
Personality: Nuada is, for an elf, unbalanced. He is violent and quick to fight, much more so than is normal for any elf and is often incomprehensible or simply vacant. Much of his time is spent in Du Weldenvarden with the wild elves with whom he shares so many traits.
Once he possessed an irrational hatred of the dragons, because of the dragon wars. Now however that has shifted to an utter loathing of all things to do with the forsworn and worst of all Galbatorix.
Of all the oldest elves he was always the strongest advocate of war and intervention into Alagesia. For many years he fought all foes who threatened the forest and in recent times called for all out war against Galbatorix, a call which has been, to his unending happiness, answered.
History: Long ago in the time of the Fyrn skulblaka Nuada was but a common soldier, fighting the dragons with his people. At the height of the war he faced down a Green dragon, leaving himself gravely wounded unto death. Only the end of the war and the subsequent immortality of the elves that saved his life.
With the war ended he was out of place, a warrior in a peaceful realm. Though he wished to continue the war he dared not go against the will of the king. Instead he joined a like minded group and set off for the edge of the forest, to the new outpost of Kirtan.
Over time the extremists of Kirtan Softened their views, left or were slain. Soon Nuada was one of the few old Kirtans left. Now one of the leaders of the small community he continued to lead their warriors, few as they were to do battle with any foe.
Over time his blood-thirst and love of war grew until it finally pushed him over the brink into insanity. He returned to Kirtan and did battle with his old rival, Varean - the last of the old extremists. He would have slain Varean on the spot had not the townsfolk intervened.
Varean fled and was never heard of again in Kirdan, leaving Nuada as sole lord of the outpost. Soon he drew to him the most dangerous and vicious elves and trained them to become a deadly force. By now the warriors were nearly equal in number to the old inhabitants.
The townsfolk were outraged by Nuada's actions and his personal army. The conflict in the town was escalating even as word reached Nuada of Galbatorix's betrayal. The town was silent as he led his host to do battle alongside the king.
When he reached the field of battle however, he found the battle lost and the king dead. In anger and pride Nuada led his fresh warriors in a vicious counter attack, before fighting a rearguard action as the remains of the elven host fled into Du Weldenvarden.
Until the day the seal was set Nuada continued to fight and attack the empire, driving the humans from the great forest. For years now he has petitioned the queen to allow him to fight once more. With the march of the elves to the aid of the Varden his prayers have been answered.
Now he leads a force ahead of the main elven force, riding with speed to once more do battle with the enemies of the elves.
Roleplaying example:
From Realms of Arda:
Elmo rode down the long road, the flanks his powerful bay horse rippling underneath his legs. A great sense of urgency loomed over him, a foreboding that had been growing these past two years. At last now he had acted, unable for any longer to still the dread within his heart or the fears within his mind. Truly now he knew, more so than any other that this new evil is a threat, a terrible threat to Arda and to the Eldar.
He rode on, his heart heavy with shadows even as the white city itself rose into view. The great fields of the Pellenor spread out below and the mountains rose in the distance, crowned by the immense weight of Minas Tirith. For a moment Elmo rested and gazed upon this site, for it's glory overcame his misgivings for a time, before he shook his head sadly and nudged his horse forward.
He rode across the Pellenor, the place of the great battle against the enemy. The place he had refused his aid to. Seeing now the rolling fields and the glory of the city he was assured in his decision, both then and now. For while he had once left men to fight their own wars now he turned to them; this war was not of man's making nor dwarf nor firstborn's. All must stand against a new and terrible threat.
Some time later Elmo looked upon the great gate of Minas Tirith, open now to all travelers and merchants. Here it was but a matter of walking through - or so it seemed. As he rode towards the gate the crowd around him began to writhe and he heard shouts of "Elf!" "Alfa!" The crowded men began to pint and some attempted to run forward.
Thankfully before anything happened a man came forward from within the one of the guardhouses beside the gate. He was a large and imposing man, going to grey and as he called for order almost all obeyed. One youngster, barely out of his youth, continued forward, mesmerised but the guard came forward and grasped him by the shoulders before throwing him back into the hastily departing crowd.
In a gruff, gutural voice he said to Elmo "I apologise my lord," bowing low he asked, "What brings one such as you to this city of men?" Already moving off Elmo called back in a high lilting voice, "I come bearing word for the king!" The guard looked startled and shouted at him as he rode away, "My Lord! The king will be in audience with the..."
The end of his speech was cut off as Elmo rode through the levels with speed, ignoring the great white buildings that were, to most, a wonder and marvel. As he passed through each gate in turn he was met with the same message, or one that was similar. The king is very busy, The king is in audience, The king cannot see you. Such answers meant little to Elmo and he pressed on regardless of how futlie his journey was.
At last he stood upon the sixth level, where was the great chamber of the throne. His horse had been left at a stable on the fifth, along with his weapons and gear. Striding to the doors of the throne room with great, balanced steps he soon reached it. Before the door stood three of the reknowned fountain guard and as Elmo approached two of them closed the passage with their long spears and the third stepped forward.
"I am Cieran of the royal guard." he said, seemingly unaffected by the being he was speaking to, "State your bussiness here or begone." Elmo frowned at this presumptious human and said, "I am Elmo of Cuiviénen, here bearing a message and counsel for Elessar, King of men." Cieran stared at him for a long while before stating simply, "The king will not see you. Leave."
Elmo looked upon this human, who sought to order him. He was little more than a soldier, yet he spoke with a gravity few possessed. This, perhaps, would be enough to grant him respect from most, but Elmo was ancient beyond all others and few could command his respect. Instead of meekly leaving as expected, he began to shout, "You tell me that Elessar would not wish to see me, his most ancient companion of years! That he would not hear this news, for which I have come across the world to give unto him! Knowledge of such import as has not been heard in near a decade! Hah!"
Elmo continued to shout for soon enough it would disrupt the audience within and he would see the king, whether he was expected or not.
Elmo rode down the long road, the flanks his powerful bay horse rippling underneath his legs. A great sense of urgency loomed over him, a foreboding that had been growing these past two years. At last now he had acted, unable for any longer to still the dread within his heart or the fears within his mind. Truly now he knew, more so than any other that this new evil is a threat, a terrible threat to Arda and to the Eldar.
He rode on, his heart heavy with shadows even as the white city itself rose into view. The great fields of the Pellenor spread out below and the mountains rose in the distance, crowned by the immense weight of Minas Tirith. For a moment Elmo rested and gazed upon this site, for it's glory overcame his misgivings for a time, before he shook his head sadly and nudged his horse forward.
He rode across the Pellenor, the place of the great battle against the enemy. The place he had refused his aid to. Seeing now the rolling fields and the glory of the city he was assured in his decision, both then and now. For while he had once left men to fight their own wars now he turned to them; this war was not of man's making nor dwarf nor firstborn's. All must stand against a new and terrible threat.
Some time later Elmo looked upon the great gate of Minas Tirith, open now to all travelers and merchants. Here it was but a matter of walking through - or so it seemed. As he rode towards the gate the crowd around him began to writhe and he heard shouts of "Elf!" "Alfa!" The crowded men began to pint and some attempted to run forward.
Thankfully before anything happened a man came forward from within the one of the guardhouses beside the gate. He was a large and imposing man, going to grey and as he called for order almost all obeyed. One youngster, barely out of his youth, continued forward, mesmerised but the guard came forward and grasped him by the shoulders before throwing him back into the hastily departing crowd.
In a gruff, gutural voice he said to Elmo "I apologise my lord," bowing low he asked, "What brings one such as you to this city of men?" Already moving off Elmo called back in a high lilting voice, "I come bearing word for the king!" The guard looked startled and shouted at him as he rode away, "My Lord! The king will be in audience with the..."
The end of his speech was cut off as Elmo rode through the levels with speed, ignoring the great white buildings that were, to most, a wonder and marvel. As he passed through each gate in turn he was met with the same message, or one that was similar. The king is very busy, The king is in audience, The king cannot see you. Such answers meant little to Elmo and he pressed on regardless of how futlie his journey was.
At last he stood upon the sixth level, where was the great chamber of the throne. His horse had been left at a stable on the fifth, along with his weapons and gear. Striding to the doors of the throne room with great, balanced steps he soon reached it. Before the door stood three of the reknowned fountain guard and as Elmo approached two of them closed the passage with their long spears and the third stepped forward.
"I am Cieran of the royal guard." he said, seemingly unaffected by the being he was speaking to, "State your bussiness here or begone." Elmo frowned at this presumptious human and said, "I am Elmo of Cuiviénen, here bearing a message and counsel for Elessar, King of men." Cieran stared at him for a long while before stating simply, "The king will not see you. Leave."
Elmo looked upon this human, who sought to order him. He was little more than a soldier, yet he spoke with a gravity few possessed. This, perhaps, would be enough to grant him respect from most, but Elmo was ancient beyond all others and few could command his respect. Instead of meekly leaving as expected, he began to shout, "You tell me that Elessar would not wish to see me, his most ancient companion of years! That he would not hear this news, for which I have come across the world to give unto him! Knowledge of such import as has not been heard in near a decade! Hah!"
Elmo continued to shout for soon enough it would disrupt the audience within and he would see the king, whether he was expected or not.
How did you find us? Link on Realms of Arda
Age:25
