Name: Elenion Alagos (EH-LEN-EON AL-UH-GOS)
Age: 3644
Gender: Male
Alliance: Edhil Resistance, though only for the last decade or so.
Race: Edhil, pureblood.
Appearance:
Elenion stands at 6'3, with long blonde hair, and silver grey eyes. His build is slender and lean, for swift, dexterous movement. While not in battle, he is usually wearing light robes, green in color, with woven trees upon its chest, arms and bottom. While traveling light, he carries a light sword, and bow His skin is a pristine porcelain. Under the winter stars and moon, his skin almost glows, as that is when his stars are aligned. Though he's been through his fair share of battle, he uses Edhel healing magics upon himself,, with that his scars usually fade.
Upon entering battle, he dons a one of a kind armor, forged for him in the fiery mountains of Ushtaway. It is very intricate. Its markings telling the story of wisdom over force. The pen defeating the sword, harmony and order over discord and chaos.
Class: Nestad, Pildae, Rautoth
Abilities/Skills: With his long life, Elenion has become quite the skilled potion craftsman, countless are the books he's written on them. Along with smithing, he is able to forge, and repair weaponry with ease. His natural Edhel gifts enable combat to be a breeze for him, be it up close, or with a bow, he is truly deadly, swift and dexterous.
Armor and Weapons: His battle armor is one of a kind. Edhel and Amlugan forge skill combined. The light, flexible crafting skills of the Edhel, along with the toughness of Amlugan hide. It is intricate in design, and something to be seen. Its hue is a dark red, and gold. He only dons it for war. Usually he is seen in his simple green robes, with simple mail underneath to provide the slightest protection. On his person at all time, is his edged, curved blade. Its hilt, gold, yet simple, while the blade is engraved in his natural language, it reads "Swift, and True." This sword can be seen resting on his right side, as he prefers a left handed stance. Also, usually wrapped around him, is his bow, the same one he made thousands of years ago, as but a boy. He has maintained it ever so.
Personality: If one were to describe Elenion in one word, it would be wise. He doesn't give into his lesser emotions, and usually thinks things through after he learns of it all. Never jumping to conclusions. Towards others he's warm, and over protecting. He cares for all life, and lives to see it flourish. He has a natural gift of empathy and intuitiveness. He can read others like an open child's book, but usually refrains from telling others. He loves to learn, knowing that no one is all knowing, and knowing that the truly wise never stop learning. He isn't what you would call cocky, but if he presents something, he is usually confident. He is actually always confident and trusting in his ability. Someone around for nearly 4 millennia should no longer have insecurities about much. Though he is wise, and tends to over think things, he does like to joke, and conversate with others. His cunning is not a cold hearted one.
History:
Elenion Alagos, literal translation being Star Storm, was born upon a winter's night more than three and a half millennia ago. The cool winter air, piercing to the bone, rattling to the core, blow over the land that night, snow wisps whipping from the ground, and trees, moonlight reflecting from the frozen ground, the entire scene seemed to glow as his mother gave birth, with his father right near. They looked up into the nights sky, and saw a meteor rain, and decided his name right then and there. Storm of stars, Elenion Alagos.
Elenions first few hundred years were spent mastering sword and bow with his father, and certain healing magic from his mother. He served in the military with his father who was already an established officer. Elenion was not his father though. As he had grown, tournaments, battles and wars had gone on. Elenion was in a large number of these. Never scathed, never injured. His prowess grew and grew, along with his ego. He came to be arrogant, and cold. But all that changed, when a small group of Edhil defected. No one knew why they did, perhaps madness was the answer? That was Elenions train of thought at least. Him, his father and their small group were sent to eradicate these group of defectors.
Picking up their tracks in northern Undu Tol, they had heard from a local smith that they had purchased weapons, and a ship, and were last seen sailing towards Enya Tol. They gave pursuit, purchasing a small ship, and sailing the same. On the eve of them sailing, he saw his father talking to a rather ragged looking man. He was of the same race, but if there ever was an unattractive Edhel, he was it. His skin seemed almost burnt, his armor looked worn, his robes torn, crooked nose, cut lips. Even his weaponry, almost rusted sword, and a bow that looked as though it were going to break with a strong pull. He watched as his father smiled, and shook the man's hand. He read his lips, 'I'm thankful you're joining.' Thankful? Thankful for what? All Elenion saw was arrow fodder in this man.
The next morning they set sail at first light, headed north to Enya. Elenion was on the starboard side of the ship, looking over the vast sea. He had never seen something so...vast. In his hundreds of years of life up to that point, he had never left Undu. He had saw the sea before, but to actually be traveling through it, was something else. Tightening ropes, and shouts from his father on which sails to use could be heard all morning. Elenion looked up and saw his father at the helm of the small sloop. He loved him, respected him, looked up to him, just as most boys of any race would their father. A fierce warrior, with wisdom to boot. His father was headed straight for the council of elders one day. And Elenion wanted to be just where his father was. A commander, not just of a group, but an army. A commander of loyalty and respect. Ambition was all he had. And ambition and arrogance don't mix well.
A commotion could be heard in the center of the ship. It appeared that some of the group were practicing, fighting amongst themselves. Elenion had already beaten them all once before. But he still liked to watch those who progressed. Climbing up to one of the short sails, he watched them go at it. That's when the ragged man from the night grabbed the practice swords and challenged any. He took his armor off, having just dirty trousers, and boots on. His body was filled with scars and scratches. Some, if not most were not from swords, but from something else. Claws perhaps? Teeth even? Elenion watched as all who stepped up were defeated with such ease. The ragged man said he would take as many at a time who wished. He watched as he beat 10 Edhil with nothing more than a short wooden sword. Each man that fell only angered Elenion, why couldn't they beat this gutter rat? The man always helped the others back to their feet, with a smile, and gave them guidance on how to be better, what movements to make, footwork. "Anyone else?" The man asked, and Elenion couldn't help but to oblige. "Little young aren't you?" The man said, though his look changed. Before he was literally having fun teaching the other men. The look in his eyes as he saw Elenion, was one of intensity. Not hatred, but almost pride. Elenion picked up the other wooden sword, and with no words for the ragged man, he simply engaged him. Their fight was on another level. Elenion could not believe this peon was going toe to toe with him. The men watched in awe as this sparring match seemed to be a little more serious. And then, just like that, one of the swords flipped into the air, and with a sweep of the foot, Elenion was at his back, wooden sword at his throat. He had never been defeated. Ever. In real combat, or practice. The man flipped the sword, putting the hilt toward Elenion. "Up with yah" he said offering help up. Elenion shot up on his own, cursing the man for cheating. The man, looked somewhat saddened by Elenions attitude, "The sword... The bow... Our magics... All are merely an extension of our body. You would do good to remember that." Elenion was enraged. He wanted so badly to strike the man down, but he wouldn't.
The rest of that journey seemed small compared to that moment for Elenion. Sure, he would finally see the great cities of Enya, and they tracked these defectors down, but he couldn't get that single loss from his mind.
As they finally tracked down the defectors to a small corner in the city, they entered their strong hold. And thats when it happened, an ambush. In the blink of an eye, an arrow pierced his fathers throat. And all went blank. Elenion, to this day cannot remember what actually happened. He doesn't remember defeating the defectors, he doesn't remember it at all. He simply remembers waking up. Home, without his father. This was the first time he felt loss. A pain so deep, he felt as though it was his life taken. His mother comforted him best she could. Elenion left the battalion his father led. He resided himself to his home for the next decade. His mother suggested that during this time he read. Sharpen his mind. In that ten year span, he learned as much as he could. Countless books, countless scripts, countless scrolls he read. With the tragedy of his father, he became less arrogant... Humbled. It was as he was reading of the world, he saw an image of blackened armor he had seen once. It was the ragged mans armor. He was only 310 years old at this time, and wondered how many knew of this armor. This was an old book, an old grimoire. It was about Ushtaway. Learning about all of these cultures intrigued him so much. So, so much. His childish dreams of being a great general were somewhat put away... He wished to travel, and learn about these people. New worlds to him, his horizons wanted to be broadened.
A year later he found himself on the sea again. This time passage to new worlds. For the next 2000 years of his life, he spent wandering and learning of the free peoples of the world. He had taken in 2 lovers at this time, but both had fell ill and passed on. During this millennia, he increased knowledge, and battle skill. Knowledge in his mind was power, but it was good to stay sharp physically as well. He lived everywhere, off the lands, in the mountains of Stegros, to the inns and farms of Eriston, to being in the wilds and a number of tribes with the Calva. All the while increasing knowledge, and trying to stay out of their political affairs.
He remembered that book from countless lifetimes ago. The one about Ushtaway... Its wonders, the Amlugan, the mystery of it all. It was in this moment, he knew that's where he wanted to go. He wanted to learn first hand about the Amlugan.
He traveled to southern Stegros, the closest he could get to Ushtaway. From there, he climbed, and crawled, and jumped, and swung, all through razor sharp rocks, until he had reached a peak so high, it was as though the sun never went down. All he saw was a sea of clouds, and sky. Then, in the distance, he saw it, saw him, a majestic winged beast pierced the sky, and then back down again. His heart fluttered, and he almost jumped off the cliff. But, he spent about 3 weeks climbing down. The lower he got, he saw from above how these lands differed from the world. More untamed, more wild. This was his lifes greatest challenge. He was going to stay here until he died, or mastered the wilds.
Upon finally getting to ground level, he searched for shelter in a near by cave. As he slept, he heard shifting in the depths of the cave. Drawing sword quicker than he drew breath, he delved deeper, his eyes adjusting to the darkness best it could. Roars came from within, and his pace slowed, but didn't stop. Slowly but surely a whimper was heard as well. It was here he found an Amlugan. It appeared to be... Sick? He wasn't sure, luckily there was a skylight and he could see much better. Inside, he realized she was giving birth, but there was a large gaping wound on her neck. He approached with caution, and well, that was taken as aggression, as a weak swipe from the beast knocked him back and nearly knocked him out. Again and again he tried, and again and again, he was thrown back. But he could tell, with each hit she was becoming weaker. He was finally able to get close. Her head, twice the size of his body in length, he ran his hands to her neck, and a whimper escaped her again, followed by winces of pain. Elenion closed his eyes, and began using the healing magic his mother taught him, and the wound soon began to close, and then heal. The Amlugan jumped up, and cornered him, speaking in Edhil, a language he had only spoke to her moments ago. She questioned him, why he was there, what he was, and why he helped her. His answers seemed to have been good enough, as he helped her give birth to another Amlugan, his color black, with red dots upon. His back.
For the next 1000 years, he spent dodging, ducking, and conquering the death that was Ushtaway. Wild was a word to weak to describe this place. But he grew to love it. And the first Amlugan he met, and her son, became friends. Her wisdom, and knowledge was... Priceless. The things he learned, the things he thought, that were wrong. The Amlugan taught him true wisdom.
One day, he returned home. His armor, the very same as the ragged mans from ages ago. Now he knew why he was able to defeat him so easily. When he returned, his mother had been in mourning... 50 years ago, the Fatenen had committed atrocity. Genocide of the Uialien people. After the Edhil lament for them, Elenion was enraged. With all of his travels, he had come to love all life, had even spent time with the Fatenen. His anger thrust him into action, and since, he has joined the resistance, helping all who needed it, and who asked.
Other: I may make an Amlugan character later, to compliment him, it will be the one from his history, the child he helped birth.
