The trauma of history: an original (low) fantasy RP

[Aufidius]

The trauma of history!

This is an original fantasy RP, designed with a flexible framework in order to get the most out of you (experienced writers). Although I will GM, and will occasionally pull rank and direct the RP as expected of me, I am looking for people who will contribute interesting characters and interesting ideas.

Anyway, to the details...

The World and its Races

This is a low fantasy world, where magic is rare, almost to the point of myth in the case of anything resembling powerful magic. The RP takes place on a continent called Tarimis, on a world known only as Eä.

Map of Tarmis (I know it's shoddy, but I'm far better at writing than making maps!) map link

The main body of Tarimis is made up of four main territories or nations. Three of these form the three 'playable' races, which are human, elf, and dwarf (H, E, and D on the map respectively). The more powerful magical creatures (dragons etc) found in fantasy, but these have become legend - to all knowledge they have long since died out, and most people have forgotten they exist. Orcs, goblins, some barbarian humans and giants inhabit a wild zone, walled off from the 'civilised' lands by an ancient wall (similar to the wall that keeps out the wildlings in Game of Thrones, but not as massive).

A little more on the three playable races and their lands:

The humans (Nestori): The human kingdom operates under a feudal system where each noble house rules its territory in a somewhat devolved way. The nobles are not independent of the crown, but are loyal to the human king as per the feudal hierarchy. The crown is held by King Louen Nestor, of the house Nestor which has ruled for the last 500 years (hence humans are often called Nestori). Humans are a less harmonious race than the elves or dwarves, and so there is more scheming and political intrigue to clamber up the ladder. The noble houses should be around six to eight in number, who in turn have lesser or knightly houses which serve upon them. The make up of these houses will be something we generate throughout the RP, though human players may wish to make a start in their CS.

The human capital is a great fortress city named Diomos that sits on lake Diomede, and is named after the King who founded it, Diomedes Nestor (confusion, I know). Diomos is the greatest city ever built above land, in size and grandeur. It stands as a bastion of human growth and fortune, and from there the King and his council rule. Every other city, save one which I will introduce in the RP, will be subject to creation hereafter. Be imaginative.

As a race, humans are complex, having a multitude of different personalities and characters. Many are wealth hungry merchants, or violent warriors, whilst an equal number rival the elves in their desire for self improvement and aesthetic dispositions. Men are often seen by the other races as unpredictable, but strangely capable. They are determined people, who as a mass can achieve wondrous feats. Humans have come the furthest in the least amount of time, and although they cannot yet match the elves' ancient knowledge or the dwarves' skills in physical crafts, many think it won't be long until they catch up. They also hold the largest territory and are the most populous race.

The elves (Majirel, Sindaril, Cilmessë and Therindë). The elves have something akin to a fully devolved democracy. Each elven territory is independently governed, and its leaders elected. There are four elven territories: Majirel, Sindaril, Cilmessë and Therindë. These correspond to slightly different racial and cultural qualities that have evolved since the elven schism, over a thousand years ago. The elves are harmonious however, and these territories do often come together on account of their mutual history and mutual values, but there is no central government as such, just a council that can be called when issues that affect all independent elven territories arise. Again, much of the fluff can be filled in by you.

The greatest elven city belongs to the Cilmessë, who inhabit the great forest of Quesien. Thus the city is called Quessir, which is interwoven amongst the natural flora of the forest. Great trees support intricate, beautiful structures which house the elven population. It is said to be amongst the most beautiful creation of any living people.

The elves are a noble, sophisticated race, and yet appear to others as often beautifully simple in their graces and pleasures. Elves are usually a similar height to humans, but are more lithe and dexterous. They have long lives, around 500 years, which gives them a sense of aloofness as comes with seeing generations of other races come and go. They have superb hand eye coordination, and make up for a lack of strength with speed and agility.

The Dwarves Politically, the dwarves are half way house between feudal governance and the elves' full devolution. There is a Dwarven King - Úlfr, but his power is more ceremonial. Dwarves have city states that operate in isolation from each other as clans, ruled by clan-lords. The King and his council do set the core rules that govern all Dwarven kind, but the Clan-lords have ultimate sway in their city. Each Dwarven city is built down, either underground or more commonly, into a mountain.

The Dwarves' capital is the great underground city of Vánagandr. Sitting under the highest peak of Irthuk, in the white mountains, the city is truly vast. The architecture makes it, without doubt, the greatest feat of engineering ever undertaken. Having taken 700 years to become the city it is today, Vánagandr's caverns are awe inspiring and a monument to the power of the dwarven race.

Dwarves are short, stocky people. They usually stand between 4' to 4' 5'' but can easily weigh as much as a human two feet taller, having an incredible natural muscle mass. They are merry in song and drink, but stern in business; they are long term thinkers, who carry great stock in their clan above all else. Dwarves often live to be 160 years of age.

The wildlings, including orcs and goblins The wild zone is a race walled off from the rest of Tarimis by a great wall constructed by the combined effort of the dwarves, humans and elves some 400 years ago. The wall and its surrounding lands are neutral, manned by warriors of each race, sent on rotation every 5 years. There is a permanent guard, called the beacon holders. It is a vocation few still willingly take, and thus many are sent there to pay for their crimes (Game of Thrones rip off, I know).

The lands beyond the wall are often referred to simply as the wild. Orcs and goblins are the most numerous population, although giants and small villages of barbarian humans also live there. The lands, being towards the north of the continent, are much colder, and beyond a hundred or so miles north of the wall, very few maps exist of the lands thereon.

Plot

In the northern part of the continent (Tarimis) where the human kingdom and a dwarven clan-hold meet, a great discovery was made. Both the dwarves and humans claimed to have discovered it first, but eventually they put aside their differences to work together. The find was an archaeological wonder; a city from the first age (c.6000 years ago), of which records are extremely rare. After two years of painfully careful excavation, the elves were given a formal role on account of their vast lore and their status as the oldest civilisation among the three races. It was the first fully collaborative venture of all three races in decades. The most significant discovery was of a sarcophagus that seemed to pre-date even the city itself; sealed shut by powerful locks that the most skilled dwarven craftsmen couldn't unpick, the artefact was subject to intense study. The runes were in a language long forgotten, but from what could be established, it spoke of a great prophesy that was central to the faith of this ancient civilisation.

In the years that followed, other key discoveries were made, including several ancient scrolls, and crude pictorial evidence that hinted at a unified origin amongst the races of the earth, and the possibility of a 'master race' or 'creator race' lost to time. This theory caused an uproar amongst the various faiths of each race, but was unverified without the cryptic language of the ancients being broken. Just as scholars were making a breakthrough, an unthinkable event happened. The sarcophagus and several ancient texts and artefacts were being transported under guard from the ancient city to human territory where they were to undergo further study, when they were stolen by an unknown force. Immediately, the humans, dwarves and elves argued about what happened. Many blamed each other, others blamed secret clans of religious zealots; some looked to the orcs and goblins, who may also have a stake in the discovery; finally, a few dared to speculate at the return of a dark power, hinted at amongst the cryptic runes.

Whilst distrust has flared, groups have been formed to investigate and each race must continue to work together to arrive at the truth. What happens then, well, that depends...

So anyway: characters.

You will play a representative of one race, and by extension the political interests of that race on an overt level. However, the inner interests of that character will be left up to you.

I would like at least one human, elf and dwarf, and preferably 2 of each. That would mean an RP of around 6, but one or two more/less would be workable.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Race:
Age:
Appearance:
Role / job / class:
Background / History:
Personality / interests / motivations:
Skills and talents:
Equipment:


Any questions, please let me know. Once again, this isn't finished - it's a world and story we will build together.

EDIT:

Characters so far:

Aufidius: Uys Krige (Dwarf)

Data: Ilyria Rowan (Elf / Cilmessë)

Mammoth:

FantasyFan28:

[Aufidius]

Name: Uys Krige

Race: Dwarf

Age: 52

Gender: Male

Appearance: With a pair of deep set red eyes, robust nose and a face swathed beneath a dark blonde beard that hangs half a foot from his chin, Uys Krige is the embodiment of good dwarven breeding. Standing 4 feet 6 inches and weighing 78kg, his muscular arms, chest and legs betray a strength few others could boast of. His skin is olive except for six tattoos, one for each battle fought in the name of his clan or king. Over his armour he wears a black and maroon tabard with silver and bronze stitching, the uniform of all Irsbane clan bodyguards.

Equipment: Uys's armour is bespoke, crafted from a mixture of metal composites and hides of the creatures that inhabit the depths of the earth. His chest-plate is a mossy green lamellar design, with interlinked scales fixed over a well fitting suit of chainmail. It is strong and flexible, with few weak points towards which an enemy can strike. His greaves, vembraces, and other parts follow a similar design. Only Uys's blackened helm is different; an unusual metal design, it was a gift from his father, who in turn got it from his father. How long the helm has been in the Krige family it is unknown, but it has worn little, saving each generation's scalp countless times.

Uys's tower shield is his pride and joy. Given to him by his Clanlord, Irsbane, it measures the full length of an average male dwarf. Made from solid mithril, its runes denote Uys's privileged status in Kazucdir. This defensive shield is symbolic of the dwarves' mentality that winning a fight first rests on solid defence. Nevertheless, out on the road, even without the defensive properties of a dwarven battle line, it has proven to be a vital part of Uys's fighting style.

Lastly, Uys carries a dull, steel warhammer. Finely balanced and the product of finest dwarven craft, the double headed weapon has a reputation amongst Housecarls such as Uys as being a proven means of handing out death. The steel point is designed to punch through all but the strongest armour, whilst the blunt side can deal immense damage in the hands of a muscular warrior such as Uys.

Other equipment is miscellaneous - water canister, food, flint etc...

Birthplace: Kazucdir - home of the deep lord Irsbane. It sits under a singular mountain next to the western border with human territory.

Biography: Born to the fourteenth line in the house of Krige, Uys - son of Jys, follows in the family line of housecarls to the Irsbane clan. He was raised by his father, sister and three brothers, being the youngest of his generation. His mother, typical of dwarven women, was a powerful warrior in her own right and died when Uys was eight. In his formative years in Kazucdir, Uys studied in the academy of defence, learning the history, lore, legend and culture of dwarven battle practice. He trained hard and engrossed himself in study, only to return home and have his father - a great warrior, test him thoroughly in his skill. The huge underground city of Kazucdir was his home for the first twenty years, staying at the academy for nearly all of that time. He knew no where else, only the vastness of the great hall and the sublime statues that dominated the underground landscape. But above all he was safe, and it was that which troubled him. No army had attacked the great city in three hundred years and so long as he stayed, he would never use the skills he had learnt. The purpose of Kazucdir, being one of the deepest of the dwarven cities, was to protect the dwarves from human expansionism, and if necessary outlast them in a siege for decades. With the relative peace between their two races, this possibility seemed highly unlikely.

Thus it was closer to the surface that Uys petitioned to be sent. At 23 he had become a full housecarl and warrior, but had since far only seen proper action against beasts and bandits outside the city's natural walls. Having been sent a request form the King himself, Irsbane dispatched Uys and his unit to fight against the more organised goblins, orcs and other enemies that harassed the great wall to the north of the dwarven kingdom. For five years he fought for his King, earning the respect of the many veterans with whom he stood shoulder to shoulder. Over the next ten years he severed in three more campaigns, representing his home city, house and clan. It was at the age of forty that he finally returned to Kazucdir. His father, already 180 and having suffered many injuries during his career, finally succumbed to his wounds. Upon receiving news of his death, Uys returned alongside his brothers and sister to carry the coffin of their father to the final resting place within the tomb of the house Krige. Resolved to remain with his clan and family, Uys undertook a new post at the academy in which he had trained for many years. He became both a mentor and student, undertaking advanced research in the library of tactics and battlements, whilst helping to train the next generation of warriors. At fifty he was given the honour of becoming one of the clanlord's elite bodyguards; only two years into the post, and he has been summoned to the great hall in response to the rumours that have come from the surface concerning a recent discovery and its disappearance. An atmosphere of possible war stirs, but little detail has reached the depths of Kazucdir, until now.

Motivations: Uys is extremely loyal to his clan above all else. He does not lack for ambition, but not in the same way of a merchant or human warrior who seeks self-advancement. Uys seeks glory for his family name and clan, and takes great pride in actions done for such causes.

Profession: Bodyguard / Housecarl

Unique Skills: Uys is the definition of a 'dwarven defender', having spent his whole life training in the art of defence. His hearing and eyesight is impeccable, and is almost impossible to sneak up upon. Even if a weapon can get beyond his armour, he is as tough as dwarves come, able to shake off all but the mightiest of blows. Offensively he is a good fighter, but a lack of mobility means he would much rather welcome an assault than begin one.

[Mammoth]

You already know I'm in.

Reserving this spot for my character. I will be editing this post probably within the weekend.

Also, think you could have borrowed more from Game of Thrones :P

EDITED:

Name: Mammoth
Race: Human - Barbarian
Age: 26

Appearance: Mammoth is a towering man, standing 6 foot, three inches tall, and weighing 325 pounds. While extremely muscular, he has the frame of a northern man: thick and barrel chested and prepared to handle the harsh northern winters, which last most of the year. Bald, with a very strong jaw line and deep blue eyes, Mammoth has a long thick blonde beard. He wears a scaled armor with interlocking iron plates, covered on the left by a shoulder plate and on the right by a white wolf's hide (a smaller, less imposing plate is below the hide). The hide is lined so that the head stares off of his right shoulder and the hide wraps around his back and down the plate, acting as a cloak of sorts. It is attached to the armor so as to not be easily grabbed, and can be removed rather easily in battle. Wearing heavy metal plate greaves and similar interlocking iron legplates, Mammoth is extremely well-armed for a "northman", as they are known to the south. His waist has a mammoth hide wrapped around it for warmth.

On his back, slung in two slings, one on his right shoulder and one near his waist on the left side, hang his weapons: Two double-sided axes each about 3 feet in length. The work that goes into creating the weapons is so great, that only a certain few are presented with them. Cold Steel, aptly named for its far northern origins, is an almost unbreakable weapon cast from the ore found below the ice shelf far to the north. The work and effort that it takes to craft it reserves the weapons only for the elite warriors of the barbarian tribes.

He wears no helmet, preferring vision to the protection it offers. He also prefers to stare his enemies in the face, and his own for his ferocious war cry.

Background / History: The northern barbarian tribes are known for being fierce and ferocious warriors, often attributed to their harsh climate and deadly wildlife that they share the wild lands with. There exist three northern human tribes, in addition to the dozens or orc tribes and other vile creatures: The Deldor, the Castian, and the Galian, each named after the mythical man whom they claim to have bound together each tribe long before the wall was built. The Galian, which Mammoth belongs to, is the northern-most tribe, located near the uncharted ice shelf. The hardy Galian are the only group that attempted to settle that far north, and they did so because they knew that the orcs and other Barbarian tribes were not tough enough to every conquer their homeland, should it come to that.

Most of those south of the wall don't understand or know of the tribes and their customs, but a few are aware of their culture. Each tribe has a designated warrior class, the ones who survive a specific set of trials that culminates with the Great Hunt. The Great Hunt involves sending a warrior out unarmored and unarmed, set to task of hunting one of the many dangerous animals of the wild. Despite holding to different alliances, the barbarian tribes are remarkably similar. The Deldor and Castian prefer to designate what animal must be hunted, the Galian leave the decision to the hunter. If they return, the are reborn as Death Riders, cast with the task of being the elite warrior class of their tribe, and re-named as the beast that they had slain with their bare hands. Once a Death Rider claims a beast, it cannot be taken until his death as he "rides the strength of the soul of the hunted beast to his grave". The more deadly the beast, the more prestige the Death Rider receives upon his return.

Mammoth, clearly, hunted down and slaughtered one of the great roaming mammoth of the north, known for being intensely short tempered and deadly with their massive tusks. He still carries the scars from his hunt, which mark his body in numerous places, none more apparent than the one that runs from the left side of his neck to just below his eye. While the story of how the beast comes to be slain belongs to the Death Rider, it is considered a great honor if he shares it with someone.

Mammoth currently acts as the Gal'thronir, the Galian title for the Vanguard, the man who is first into the battle and last to leave. In non war-time, he is the head scout for the Galian, and is often out in the snowy wilderness alone. He prefers the solitude and feels he works better when nobody is there to slow him down.

Personality / interests / motivations: The Galian are known for their ferocity, and how they will have no mercy for their enemies. While the other two barbarian tribes are largely honor-driven, not fighting unless given reason Mammoth is not afraid to dirty his hands. As such, He is one of the most highly regarded warriors the Galian have to offer as he will do what most will not or can not. He can read, albeit not well, and is quite the tactician. He was born for the battlefield and he thrives in battle, enjoying the chance to slay his foes. When the Galian need something nasty done, he is trusted with the task. Mammoth has no qualms with burning down an entire village and everyone in it. That's not to say he enjoys slaughtering innocents, but in the wild lands you tend not to have many options.

As one of the few Galian who can read, he is often sent as a emissary when other tribes or the southerners beyond the wall would prefer to talk than to die.

Skills and talents: Can read and write, but struggles with advanced words of the southern nobility. Expert tactician and fearless warrior. Adept at scouting and tracking in the wild lands. Can withstand incredible punishment. Overpowering in battle, even if he lacks speed.

Equipment: Dual Cold Steel axes, etched with the insignia of his Hunt. Plate armor.

[Aufidius]

ha, that could be arranged

[Fantasyfan28]

Reserving a place for my character sheet... Will hopefully have a rough idea over the weekend.
(Got to dust off my thinking cap first..)

[Data]

I'm trying dearly to get back into the RP world. I used to love this so, back a few years ago. I personally love Game of Thrones, and adore the fact that it's not based on the actual story. The tidbits you've drawn in work very well. Now I'm going to submit a Character Sheet for a character I've now got in mid, but of course if it's not up to par, please let me know. I don't want to hold anyone back here. ^^



Name: Ilyria Rowan

Race: Ilyria is an Elf of the Cilmessë nation.

Age: One Hundred and some odd years

Appearance: Ilyria stands roughly 5'3'' and weighs about 100 or so pounds, and even for Elvin standards can be considered a slight woman, but even though she looks unimposing, she is not soft. The sharp plane of her face and high cheek bones are faintly reminiscent of a fox which her deep auburn hair does nothing to help. Her waist length hair is captured in a neat plait. Always with her and tucked safely beneath her armor is a gold and silver wire pendant twisted into the symbol of her family a Rowan tree.

Equipment: Given her stature, heavy armors have never suited Ilyria. Her leather armor is study enough for me line of work. She wears a long- sleeved white linen shirt beneath a study jacket made of a deep brown leather, sturdy polished brass buttons line the front allowing her. The leather of the jacket is doubled in the torso. Linen trousers a covered by well worn leather leggings, and her boots were made for forest life, thick soled but well fitted to hug her calves and keep her pants protected from the underbrush. Her belt has several small pouches, two that hang easily above her left hip, and a single inner one. She also has a small satchel that contains her limited provisions and personal effects that she carries with her. A silver hilted dapper is sheathed at her right hip, and there is also a very thin dagger tucked into her right boot.

Ilyira's weapon of choice is her bow. It is a long bow skillfully carved by her father, and it depicts an ancient tale of the Fox and the Shrew in the intricate scenes carved lovingly into the rowan wood. Her bowstrings are kept tucked in and inner pouch in her belt. Her quiver of arrows is made of woven reeds with a cover that flips open to reveal the two dozen arrows hidden within, years of hunting and narrow escapes have taught her the error of not covering the arrows.

Ilyria's final and most prized possession is her hunting hound. A rare breed that her family is well known for raising. Nyx is a black fox hound, a breed of canine that strongly resemble the black foxes that hunt in the forests of Cilmessë. He stands no more than two feet tall with large golden eyes and a large bushy tall tipped with silver.

Vocation: Ilyria is a huntress, scout, and tracker. She was selected for her keen senses and her renowned tracking abilities.

History: Ilyria wasn born of a small family village, but unlike the beautiful capital city of their nation, the small village of Sorva was built on the ground amongst the trees of the great forests that surrounded their lands. Ilyria is a middle child of three, but she was never close to her siblings. She and her wolf pup Nyx got in much trouble as she reached her mature years, but she learned quickly how to hunt and use her bow. As she aged, and time lay seemingly endless before her, Iylri set off for Quessir. She was recruited to service the great wall doing one of the Elven terms there. Pitted now against fierce and ferocious orcs and ogres of the Wilds, Ilyria found her place. She was sent to scout encampments, learn the land, wild though it was. For decades she hunted the Wilds, her and Nyx taking to the freedom it gave, but she would never place herself under the Beacon Holders. It was not her duty, but her joy to hunt here.

Tragedy hit the year Ilyria turned a century old. New came to her place on the Wall that bandits had been plaguing the forests in outside of Quessir, and that they have moved east. Sorva had been razed. Ilyria raced back to the trees that she know by heart, to the game paths that her feet knew without looking. In the still smoldering ruins of her village, she found strangers and neighbors from other villages helping lay the dead to rest. Ilyria helped, carefully building pyres for each dead, wishing them luck in their next life. Her entire family had been part of the slaughter, and revenge burned within her. As the ashes of her family cooled, she set out on a hunt, weeks cold. She found the tiny traces, followed the ruins and rumors. Using her skills she found them and followed them. After breaking away to retrieve the soldiers and guards of Quessir, Ilyria got her justice as the human bandits were destroyed, no tolerance given for those who would kill children. Honored by the guard, Ilyria was given to their ranks and defended her new city until the news came of the theft.

Motivations: Ilyria is an idealist and despises evil and abuse of innocence. She was a bandit hunter for the Guard of Quessir for this very reason.

Talent: Archery is clearly Ilyria's strongest offensive ability. As a warrior she lacks many skills, her size and experience allow her great speed and agility, but she cannot fight well. If she cannot take out her targets from the trees, from afar, then she is more likely to retreat and find a position more to her advantage. She is also skilled in tracking, and usually always finds her quarry.

[Aufidius]

That's a lovely CS, Data - accepted. I think Ilyria will fit very well within the story.

I think there's a few of us getting back into writing after a little break, so you're in the right company.

[Rethel34]

I might attempt a CS for this later if I have the chance. Give me until midday tomorrow; if I don't have a CS in by then, I likely won't be able to be involved.

[Aufidius]

That's fine.

On a general note, I have an elf and someone expressing interest in an elf character via PM. I'd like a couple of humans and perhaps another dwarf for balance.

[Calvin]

Name: Rhysvielen "Lin" Theanduil

Race: Elven, Majirel

Age: 130

Appearance: Lin is 5'9" tall and weighs just over 8 stone. She has pale blonde hair, and even paler skin. She is more muscular than an average elven female, although it is not apparent due to how she normally dresses. Her face is not particularly striking, her features are in fact somewhat bland and flat. Her eyes are a bright yellow, and they contrast her face in a severe fashion. She somewhat gives the impression of an owl.

Job: Assassin

Equipment: Valuing shadows and subterfuge as her armor, Lin does not carry or own any equipment that could be considered battle armor. When among the public, she dresses in the simple yet elegant gowns humans and dwarves associate with her kind. She prefers gowns of pastel blue lined with faded silver threads as they tend not to draw the eye. Her thin, green dress shoes offer little protection or support, and they interfere with her running.

When not meeting in public, she covers her street clothing with a dark blue cloak of a light cloth, weighed down at the tips with mundane stones to keep prevent the wind from blowing it open. When she must not be seen at all, she wears a dark brown leather tunic dress, slit at the side and reaching to her mid-thigh. Her legs are covered by soft, brown leather boots reaching up to her knees. Her hands are covered by thin leather gloves, and she hides her head and elven ears with a normal blue scarf.

A single stiletto is Lin's only weapon. Its sharp, thin blade penetrates the thickest hides, but it is not a weapon suitable for confronting a soldier in combat. Her particular stiletto was designed by a dwarven heretic with a special feature to drive the blade through a dwarf's thick back and into his heart. The blade itself extends deep into the handle, and the handle can be detached and used to drive the full length of the blade into the victim. It is a dull, gray thing with a small crossguard and no embellishment.

Background: Executioner of the Majirel Advance Guard, Rhysvielen Theanduil. That was how she defined herself. She delivered the council's judgement onto criminals. Whether or not these criminals resided within their nation did not matter, high crimes would lead to death. Violations of humanity, or of nature would be put to an end by any means necessary. Rhysvielen was the hand that thrust the knife, that was all. She was an extension of the Council, and therefore an extension of the people. Even if she needed to remain in the shadows, even if she had to suffer the squalor and poverty of the worst foreign encampments, even if she spent most nights alone in an alien land, she took heart in the fact that her mission was worthwhile.

The killing was not hard for Rhysvielen. The council decided who to kill. Were it not her, another would have been sent to end the life. And the council acted for the best. They did not execute men for petty reasons like revenge or punishment. The other races were young, reckless, and ignorant. The council would provide a guiding hand for the benefit of all, even if the young races of humans and dwarves could not understand their actions. The council's orders gave Rhysvielen's life purpose, even peace. Because of her mission, she rarely saw her own kind, and she was not to involve herself too deeply with the foreign races. It was not the killing that was hard.

Even though she was not supposed to mingle with the foreign people, not speaking to anyone at all was far more suspicious. She enjoyed the company of the ambitious humans and the uninhibited dwarves. Especially after a few glasses of ale, they were quick to do away with what was proper and show their true selves. The idea that she was helping such lively people was a small source of pride for her. Her elven name was difficult for their tongues, so they called her "Lin," from the end of her first name. A name that wasn't elven. A name that was called by people who knew her. A name just for her.

Their company was warming, but it also weighed on her. Humans could be quick to trust others, and she did not relish lying to one who trusted her. She always had to hide who she was. And eventually, as she was called by another order, she would have to leave and travel to another place. She never said farewell. If her mission was done, there was no need to blend into that society. There was no need to say goodbye.

Rhysvielen's life changed ten years ago. A member of the Executioners made a mistake. The dwarves found him, and they made him speak. The poor elf told them everything he knew, and when they still wouldn't stop, he told them everything they wanted to hear. More members of the Executioners were found in dwarven lands, and even human lands, because of what one said. It was about that time she stopped receiving anything from the council. At the time, she lived in a human settlement as a relatively unknown presence. She heard the rumors. The elves were killing humans and dwarves, the elves were trying to weaken the other races for an invasion, the elves were afraid of the humans' quick progress, any elf must be a spy or a murderer. The nation of Majirel publicly denounced any connection with the Executioners. The council themselves stated that they were a small, extremist group with no affiliation to the nation's people. The council said any elf with an affiliation with the Executioners was a traitor, a criminal, and an exile. The council would provide any assistance they could in eliminating this rogue element and foster peace between their nations. Rhysvielen ran from the cities and towns before the bounties on elves began to be posted. For a while, relations were extremely tense, but once emotions cooled the humans and dwarves made peace with the Majirel.

For a time, Rhysvielen lived in the forest. She knew what fruits, nuts, and plants she could eat. She could easily take to the trees to avoid hunting parties and wolves. She survived in the woods, and she found some company in a few grazing animals who saw her as a friend. She lived in the forest for the better part of a year, until she was surprised by a hunting party stalking a herd of deer. The sun had been bright that day, and it blurred her vision. She had not seen the hunters until they were already firing arrows. She had been standing in an open field. There was nowhere to run. To her surprise, the hunters at first ignored her, then harangued her for standing so dangerously close to their prey. After telling her off for her carelessness, they let her be.

Since learning that, at least in the area she had migrated to, elves were no longer all suspected as spies, she returned to human society. She works as an city courier, delivering messages back and forth.

Interests / motivations: Lin desires to be acknowledged, and she wants to return to her homeland. She enjoys competitive games with others, and she is fond of animals.

Skills and talents: Lin is fast and agile, able to outrun even elven pursuers and continue at nearly full speed through obstacles or difficult terrain. She is adept at slipping into shadows and crowds. Even in combat, her unassuming pose and thin profile are easily forgotten in the face of more immediate threats. Lin can climb and leap like an acrobat across walls, and stalk silently from ceilings. In a fight, she dares not attack an opponent head-on, but she is quick to plunge her knife into an unguarded back.

Lin has exceptional vision in the night, but she has trouble seeing in bright daylight. It was this trait which prevented her from becoming an archer.