Nerdanel's Characters

Discussion in 'Character Profiles' started by Nerdanel, Jan 10, 2004.

  1. Nerdanel

    Nerdanel [...The Wise...]

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    Arianne The Dark Elf


    Name: Arianne the Dark Elf, Lady of Nan Gûlfuin , born Elárwen. Known to her sect as Elárwen, Lady of the Moriquendi. (Though she herself is not of the Moriquendi people by birth.)

    Race: Silvan Elf of the Peredhil, descended from Melian through Lúthien.
    DOB: Latter part of the First Age, some years before Elrond.
    Gender: Female, delightfully so
    Home: Mirkwood
    Born: In the mountains just outside Rivendell

    Appearance: Arianne has long raven hair and piercing green eyes veiled behind long lashes. She wears ebony robes that look to be spun of midnight. Everything about her seems to absorb the light in the room, so black is her dress, so dark is her hair that it seems, when you look at her, that her immediate surroundings are darker as well. She wears a black star on her forehead and an evil glint in her eyes. Her cold, piercing stare sends shivers through your body. As a descendent of Lúthien she wears the beauty of Tinuviel proudly. She is gorgeous, and enchanting. So beautiful it is said that she entrances those who gaze upon her. In her the beauty of Lúthien is born again, strong and powerful. She spends most of her time shrouded behind her black, coweled cloak, which sweeps the floor and shields her from prying eyes. Her mouth, is grim, her jaw set, but she is very beautiful in her cold, and icy way. Her skin is pale and her frame slender. Her face is one of calm beauty, and her flashing eyes sparkle with hidden desires. She is tall as elves are. She hovers around 5'9"-5'10". Her dress has long bell sleeves and a tight bodice which displays her ample bosom, and encircles her slender waist. The dress has a short train and reaches to the floor. About her waist, on a thin silver cord wrought of moonlight, or so it seems, hangs a silver pouch, contents unknown. Around her neck is an amulet set in mithril. It's gem glowing and at the same time muted with burning emerald fire.
    She is barefoot most of the time, though she can occasionally be seen wearing soft leather boots

    At times, during battle for instance, she dons a skintight, black leather body suit. It offers no plate armor but the tough leather protects her and gives her greater mobility. It fits like a second skin, and when in battle she dons knee high black leather boots. She sheathes her dagger here.

    Occasionally her robes, dress, or leather are deep blood red.

    She can sometimes be seen carrying a staff of ebony reaching to her eye level. Atop the staff is a glowing orb in which emerald and amber mists swirl.
    Something in her demeanor suggests that she holds more power within herself than she lets on, a power you would not want to meet.

    Animals: She has a black stallion called Tinnutal.
    And recently, having been gifted with a warg cub by a certain orc, she has been seen to be accompanied by this strange creature. Dark grey, with mottled stripes of white, and fearsome (for a baby) this wargling has already proven a dangerous but worthy ally. Beware his amber gaze, for he sees all with his animal-eyes. His name is Yrch-Tongue. A tribute to the orc from whence he came.

    Family: Arianne bows her raven haired head and then slowly raises it, her green eyes glowing fiercely in the firelight as she meets your gaze over the dancing flames.

    "My tale is of a different weave." She speaks in low, enchanting tones, drawing ears close, and curiosity closer.

    "I am ancient. Born of the far days of the First Age, in direct descent from Lúthien Tinuviel through her grand-daughter Elwing. I am sister to Elrond and Elros. My given name is Elárwen. It is through my great-grandmother Lúthien that I bear the blood of Melian, and through her husband Thingol that I bear the blood of the Sindar. The blood of the Edain also runs through my veins. I am gifted in many ways. And in many ways cursed. I was first born to Elwing and Eärendil, though I am listed in no records. This is the story of my being as has been recounted to from those who know it. Though I do not remember myself. It is said that Elwing carried me, and it is said her burden was not an easy one."

    At this Arianne's voice falters.

    "I am sorry. This is the first time I've told this story to anyone. It has always been necessary for my lineage to remain a secret. I trust it will not leave this circle." A slight edge of threat crept into the Dark Elf's voice as she uttered these words. Scanning the group surrounding her she counted a nod from each, before continuing her story.

    "The burden I cast on my mother was great, and the trial of my delivery even harder. Mine was a difficult birth, from which Elwing nearly died. I was born a month and a half premature. Elwing was on a walk in the foothills with her mid-wife excercising her weary limbs when she slipped and fell while crossing at the base of a waterfall swollen with snowmelt. The impact of the fall and the temperature of the water sent her into shock. And into labour. It was there on the banks of the river that I was born. Feeble and silent. Elwing was losing blood quickly and her pulse was sporadic. She drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware of her surroundings. The mid-wife had to make a choice: Save her mistress or save me. She made the choice swiftly. Seeing my weak and feeble state she cut the cord and left me to my fate beside the waterfall. She would tell Eärendil it was a miscarriage. That I was born dead."

    A tear comes to the elf's green eyes and sparkles in the warm glow of the fire. A grim line set in her mouth, her visage changed from sorrowful to stern.

    "The rest need not be told. Suffice it to say a Dark One such as myself, Sindarin like me was watching from the shadows that day. She rescued me, raised me, gave me both the name that Elwing intended for me and the name I bear today, and imparted to me the ways of her People...Our People."


    Powers: Arianne is descended from Melian through Lúthien, and is Half-Elven, and sister to Elrond. She bears some of the same Elven powers as Lúthien, Elrond, and Galadriel, but her limits are not yet known.

    Weapons: Ari needs no weapons as her power is enough to protect her, but nevertheless she carries a small silver dagger with an ebony handle in a sheath tied to her slender calf. She can occasionally be seen sporting a white bow and a quiver of silver arrows. During heated battle she weilds a longsword, with a black star on the hilt, and an emerald gem on the crossguard. The blade is purest silver, and Arianne weilds her weapon with the grace of a lifetime of dark training.

    Special Skills: Arianne has been trained in healing, among other things.

    Personality: Her eyes betray a wicked danger, and her demeanor suggests a tortured past. She's trustworthy though, and can be counted on. Her word is her bond. She's not always dark, at times she can be jovial, and she is always easy to get along with, if you know how. She's a tough girl, but in rare moments her emerald eyes betray a hint of her softer side. A side she is secretly desperate to let out.

    Lately she's been seen striding about the dim recesses of the gathering place of evil always battle-ready. She wears her leather constantly now, and carries no visible weapons outside of battle, though her sword is always nearby, always at the ready. Her eyes carry a mischevious yet ever-watchful glint, and her manner is that of carefully plotted deviance. She's a seductress and a spell-weaver in many ways. Entrancing and enchanting, she is not one to be crossed. Her beauty is great, and she knows this. She uses her glory as a weapon, and she weilds it well. She is seductress, and romancer, enchantress and warrior. Pray you don't find yourself at the end of her irresisitble emerald gaze...or you may fall.
     
  2. Nerdanel

    Nerdanel [...The Wise...]

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    Lûshbag The Orc


    Name: Lûshbag

    Gender: Female, (but this one can easily be changed to male if the story calls for a male orc)

    Age: 242

    Race: Orc

    History: Born in the depths of Moria and left to fend for herself, Lûshbag ventured from the Orcish stronghold at an early age, only to find he had nowhere to go. Taking up with a band of orcs out from Minas Morgul on a mauarading rampage Lûshbag became one of the formidable orcs of Mordor, and joined the Dark Legion. Sometime between joining the forces of Mornclaur and the present date Lûshbag learned of a certain fondness she bears for the Orc draught. Given to excessive drink with often comical results she was cast from the inner circle of orcs serving the Dark Lord and Mornclaur. After receiving stern reprimands from her Orc Captain and numerous attempts to sober her up, the exasperated Mornclaur delivered her into service to the Urukgûsh where she now can be seen wandering the halls of Mt. Gundabad. Most often sloshed.

    Appearance: Though once a tall orc at 5'6" and mighty in strength, Lûshbag appears hunched, and weary. She's about 5'1" now on a good day, and her once fit Orcish body bears a rather modest thickening around the waist from a few too many Cold Ones. She still bears the strength of her younger days, her arms still strong enough to rip flesh from bones, and her leathery skin has lost none of its youthful pallor. She has razor sharp teeth, though her tongue is none too quick. She has beady black eyes, and rough, metal staples across the bridge of her nose, along with numerous rings and barbs through her ears.

    Personality: This orc is not much given to conversation. Most often she is engaged in extreme snogging with her bottle of Orc draught, and when she comes up for air, her usual words to her fellow Orc are usually "BURRRRRP" and "MORE!" A comical addition to the Orc army, she still serves her master well. For like any good alcoholic, she's learned to function well while under the influence.
     
  3. Nerdanel

    Nerdanel [...The Wise...]

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    Skaishásh The Orc

    Name: Skaishásh
    Gender: Female
    Age: Who's counting?
    Occupation: Thief/Mercenary
    Race: Orc

    Description:
    As your eyes scan your surroundings your gaze halts for a moment on the grim visage of a hideous female Orc. Skaishásh her name is, and fell is her appearance. Her eyes, rife with diabolic intent burn a hole into you as she stres back, their yellow-green fire flaring menacingly. Her eyes are set close together above a wide nose into which two small, shiny metal hoops have been driven, obviously precious metals plundered from some dwarf or elf. Her lips are thin and curled back over sharp slavering fangs, a crude sort of smile plays across her villanious features as she continues to stare at you. Running her red tongue over her cracked lips. Her skin is leathery, thick, and grey, pulled tight over her sharp boned face. She has a high forhead, terminating in thick, wavy tangles of greasy black hair, a small bone poking out from the mess, perhaps stuck there to chew on later. Her sneer darkens as she watches you scan her body up and down. She is tall for an Orc, but short for most other species. She stands at 5'4", her legs only slightly bow legged, her back straight. She has long arms, rough tempered skin, taut over the thick muscles and sinew of her body. Her shoulders are not broad, but are strong, her muscles etched in stark relief through the tight grey skin. Her legs are well defined, each muscle throbbing with a life all its own as she stands, always at the ready, always near to striking. She carries no weapons, and though a slave has lost none of her fire. Her body is a well capable weapon, and you find yourself shifting uneasily as you watch her legs flexing, as if she's about to pounce. She wears a metal band on her arm, shiny and polished like the rings through her nose, and pointed ears. And over her torso she wears a dirty, stained black leather tunic,sleeveless, and made of a soft suede, but tough nonetheless. It is cinched at her waist with a leather thong, and hangs to mid-thigh. As your inspecting gaze travels back to her face you find that her gaze has grown from menacing to self-satisfied, her yellow green eyes glowing with a secret knowledge. Her fanged grin smug. Her eyes darken as she sesnse your fear and alarmed you spin around to look behind you. Nobody is there, but when you return to glare at the Orc, Skaishásh has disappeared.