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 Posted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 9:41 pm
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:09 pm
Savith, Chosen of Blue Mountain
Approved on: Sun May 18, 2008 8:01 pm
Soulname: -n/a-
Age: 7,000+ years
Tribe: Glider, Blue Mountain -as per Graphic Novels 2-4
Height: Glider tall at 5'8"
Description: Savith is tall and lean, as is typical for gliders. He has long auburn-colored curly hair and moss-colored eyes. He's pale but with a bronze undernote that speaks of one that has not been indoors all his life.
Backstory:
Savith was born in Blue Mountain over seven thousand years ago as one of the last glider children. He was born to two of the most talented and gifted rock shapers the Mountain had seen, seconded only by Aurek, also known as Egg. The boy was expected to be the culmination of his parents, and expected to surpass them in skill and talent for rock shaping. Sadly, this was not the case. At the birthing, weak with the strain, but overjoyed at the crying infant in her arms, Savith's mother asked Winnowill, "Tell me, my son will be the most gifted rock-shaper this mountain has seen." Winnowill looked, probed the vulnerable child, and replied, "No, Tarek. He will fly fast, and he will fly hard, for a glider he is. But I feel no touch of your gift within him."
Savith's early childhood is but a dim nightmare that creeps unbidden to his thoughts late at night when he's alone and trying to sleep. His parents' faces, now lost to time and tears, are but a shadowed blur. The touch of their minds no longer familiar, yet a dull ache that Savith has learned to breath about. What little does flicker into his mind in that half-awake mostly asleep moments are disjointed, and fragmented, leaping from joyously chasing feathers about the aerie to heart-pounding terrors deep in the catacombs to his and his parents' frustration at trying to spark some hint of rock-shaper's magic in the child.
It was during these first few years of his life, as Winowill began to further her grip on the mountain and its inhabitants, that Tarek began to openly disagree with the dark healer. It was after one such fight that Savith's mother went missing, and the mountain gained one of it's most notable statue figures: Door. Savith's father, distraught with grief, went to Winowill to beg for his lifemate back, so they could be together. The Black Snake tricked the poor shaper, and he found himself sitting in the hall, forever staring up at his beloved as the statue figure Brace. Savith found himself alone and without family, in a mountain growing ever more confined. The other shapers, whom where really to only elves Savith knew well, assumed and led the child to believe that his parent chose their fates, chose to sit as part of the stone mountain rather than continue on living with the humiliation of a magic less son. They refused to tell him which pair where his parents, and even snickered among themselves at the child's cries for his parents. So Savith blamed himself for his parents disappearance, even when Winowill, in kindness, gave the child to Llune, a magicless, childless glider. She learned to be a mother to Savith, and Savith learned to see her as the only mother he remembered. The move earned Winowill Savith's nearly undying loyalty as Llune gave Savith some stability in his live and some reason to try to contribute.
He trained hard, pushing himself and the gift all gliders possessed until finally, Lord Voll elevated him to the rank of Chosen.
As a Chosen he was the lowest and least important of the Great Protectors and so Savith strove to prove himself. Taking every fool-hearty mission, Savith fought to gain the eye of the true Lord of the Mountain: Winnowill. So, he volunteered for the certain-death mission to search for...for what? Savith can't remember. For it was that mission that made him a father, that mission that wrenched his soul from his grasp, and slammed it into another. And not just once, but twice. "Do you think the children will fly," a wolfrider in the tribe asked when they thought Savith wasn't listening.
"I hope not," the other replied. "I'd rather they shape rock than fly. It's just creepy the way he does.."
"Sssshhh!"
Shape rock....
So, Savith stayed, to wait, to watch. Hoping the childern had nothing. Hoping the childern had something. Wildstorm, and Wolfflame. They loved chasing their father, who wanted nothing more than to leave them to rot, but.... but they are a part of him. He can't help but feel.... responsible, some how.
A decade and a half later, his mission almost defunct, Savith packed quickly and left. No sooner had he lieft pack territory than he noticed he was being followed. His childern, the fools, were following him. He lead them on a merry goose-chase, doubling back, and making their lives difficult.
Months passed before Savith finally flew away, leaving the girls to die, alone, in the forest, just as he believed he had once died, alone, in the mountain. Both childern. Both without parents. Both unwanted.
Turns upon turns past. Savith's track-record proving him loyal to Winowill. Even when wolfriders infested the halls of the mountain. Even when Lord Winowill, after Voll's death, ordered the captured of elf after elf. He was always loyal. Even when it hurt.
Again, out on a mission, he returned to find Wolfflame, whom he called Ekana, there, in the mountain. Training. Not as a Chosen. Not as a hunter. But as the one thing he longed to be, the one thing the High Ones denied him: a Rock Shaper. "Father, it's me. Wolfflame. I'm alive."
And those words would grow to haunt him.
Learning to be a parent to a full-grown, magically active wolfrider is no easy task. Yet at Winowill's command, Savith begun to learn. Trying to be the role-model and parent to Ekana that he failed to be in the forest, all the while hating her for her ability to shape rock.
And then, the unthinkable. And it was Savith's fault. Why else would she act like a child? What else but dangling her gifts over his nose, like a waterskin to a dying man in the deesrt would make her subject the sanctity of the mountain to those outside, and then run? What else but the lack of his own ability to stop her, would prevent him from finding her quickly?
And for a handful and a half of turns, Savith searched, to no avail. Winowill, giving Savith the chance his parents never could, gave him Drifter, now called Volek to raise. To train as he did not train Ekana. And Savith begins to learn what it means to be a parent, what if means to sacrifice everything for the child.
Maybe someday, Savith will understand the why behind his parents' disappearance. Maybe someday, he'll forgive himself. Until then, he has Volek to learn from, about love, about loss, about life.
Training Volek hasn't been easy. From flying, to hunting, to tracking, to the handling of the bondbirds; it's a full time job! Still under orders to locate Ekana, and fearful of his Lord's retribution, Savith took the youth Volek out to 'train'. To the Plains they flew, and there found the Palace of the High Ones. And there found Ekana. But he was not allowed entrance. He was not allowed his daughter.
And the unthinkable, again. The plains were attacked by shaped creatures of horrow. After /he/ was questioned, "Are these the work of your /lord/?!" No, or he wasn't told. No matter. He leant his eyes, and the wings of his mount to the charge, and gave chase as an elf was plucked from their midsts by one of these creatures.
But Volek was attacked.
There was only one thing to make the child feel better: his father. How many times had Savith wished he could run to his father?
To Sorrow's End, Savith flew, Volek in his arms. To Rikia's side. "Here. He has a hurt that only a father can heal. Send for me when he is whole. There is still much to learn."
And then, he waited. A full turn.
Finally whole, Savith took Volek to the Raft Holt tribe. Might as well look there for Ekana, no? They arrived, and were allowed to stay as guests. What he would find next, Savith never dared dream he would find.
Not Ekana. But Larias. A traitor from Blue Mountain, captured and tortured, her mind fractured, and sent away. Yet here she was. Seeing a chance to return without being empty handed, Savith worked to regain Larias's trust.
But the pup Shadows tried to ruin it, and Savith did his best not to kill the wolfrider. Quickblade helped stop the fight, Savith flying off with Larias to speak with her. And over the next several turns, Savith regained much of the trust Larias had lost in him. It was when Dodia arrived that things turned interesting.
"The Festival of Flood and Flower," Dodia said, "And everyone's invited. Are you going?" Back to the desert. Savith considered, the fight with Shadows had undone much of Volek's trust in gliders, the wolfrider having said hurtful things to the boy. He agreed, and went to Larias, offering her a ride, offering her friendship (of all things!). She had been told to see Savah, the Mother of Memory for healing from her nightmares. "I'll see you there safely. After that..." Well, he'd like to spirit her away, but he wasn't going to tell Her that.
They stayed for the Festival, and then beyond. And Larias had disappeared.
Just his luck, no? Telling Volek to get ready to go, Savith made one more fly over, hoping to spot errant gliders to return to the mountain with him. Better to go home an elfnapper than go home empty-handed.
Just his luck, no? There was Larias. In the middle of the desert night, with another elf. Leaving the bondbird circling, Savith dropped down to find out who it was and to take Larias back with him. The three spoke, and the third elf attacked. At least, that's Savith's side of the story.
Grabbing Larias, thinking to protect the poor innocent glider, he flew off toward Blue Mountain, grabbing up Volek on his way. Thankfully Aroree was nearby, and grabbed the other as well, for punishment for attacking a Chosen.
But when they arrived at Blue Mountain, Winowill chided Savith for his transgressions. "You act before you think, and it makes me look the fool." And into the Cage he was tossed.
The tables were turned from the last time he and Larias stood near the Cage. He the captive, she the captor? "Take the bird and flee, if you must, Larias. Or stay hidden in my chambers." What in Voll's name would make the Chosen so defy his Lord? Larias's nightmares. He saw them.
But the Cage was not public enough, and the underworlders wanted a visible show of their dominance in the matter. So Malene shaped Savith to the pilar in the Main Hall as an eerie living reminder to all. Of what? Even Savith's not sure, but he knew he would find no rest from it until the stranger's people were satisfied or gone from the Mountain.
What happened next, Savith can not explain.
Once again his soul was ripped from him. But instead of the wild wolfthought he was shoved into, the pure grace and agelessness of a glider soul he merged with. Green eyes met blue. Tempers that mere moments ago had flared in anger, dimmed into sudden shock.
Larias. Savith.
It's the first glider-glider Recognition since... well, his own birth, at least.
"No. I will not submit." He was rejected. Just as he rejected the wolfriders the first two times.
"Recognition is a call no elf can deny, Larias. Deny him further, and he will die. And it will be on your hands." Winnowill glared at Larias, stalking toward her, "In either case, I will have a child of your flesh!"
Weak from the nearly full turn pinned to rock, and shaken to the core by the Recognition, Savith was released to Larias's care, and taken to his newly redecorated chambers within the Hall of the Chosen Eight.
It was a slow recovery, Winnowill refusing to render aid to it. A long, torturous week, but Savith could rest and recover. And the Call was heeded. "No more running."
No more running. Yet just after then deed was done, Larias did just that. Taking Winddance, Savith's bond, she fled the mountain, racing toward Sorrow's End and the underworlders that promised her refuge.
Needless to say, Savith was furious, and fought to recover quickly within the Halls of the Mountain. Months later, deep in white cold, when he had finished another lesson with Volek, a sudden pain filled him. A pain all too familiar, all too frightening. And again, Savith acted first. And thought later.
Safe. She was safe. Thank the High Ones. But so close to home, he refused to let her leave, and with much coaxing, Larias returned with him to the halls of Blue Mountain.
And there, for nearly two turns they lived, arguing with each other. Larias wanting to go out every moment. Savith needing her to stay well-behaved and silent. In the end, as Larias's time grew near, it was clear, she was not healthy enough. Dizzy spells, and trouble eating and sleeping. And through it all... Savith's Lord silent.
He acted, once again, without thinking. Stealing a young bondbird, not yet ready for harness, but one that he was training with Volek, Savith fled, taking Volek, Larias, and his mother, Llune. But where? Who would accept them? Who would heal them? Leetah.
It was a gamble. Savith wasn't certain Leetah would be there, or that Strongbow wouldn't shoot first and not even think later. But it worked. Leetah was there, and willing to help.
The two had been living in the Mountain, with Savith beingsent out of the mountain on the occassion mission, errand, and huting trip. It was on one such hunting trip that the Cataclysm struck, leaving Savith injured, dazed, and too far form home to send for his beloved lifemate. Afraid his soul would once again find itself incomplete after he'd given his heart over as well, Savith shut it away. He would survive, but a shell of himself, daring not even to pray that she and his son were alive.
Family:
Savith's father is Elian aka Brace (Book Character - approved 7-30-2002) and his mother is Tarek aka Door [going by Malene] (Book Character - approved 7-30-2002). He was adopted by Llune. He has the following known grandfathers: Rein (Adopted), and the following known grandmothers: Osella (Adopted). He has Recognized Clearlight (deceased), Softdream (deceased), and Larias. He is lifemated to Larias and was lovemated to Dodia (Book Character).
His children are called WolfFlame/Ekana, Wildstorm (deceased), Drifter/Volek (Adopted Ward), Rosendo.
Magics:
Sending - Very Well Controlled : Savith has the control of a typical elf with his sending. He can communicate very well, sharing thoughts and feelings, even during a mentally straining activity such as a hunt. It makes him a very effective hunting partner to another elf that can send. He doesn't have the largest range, as he's never needed to use it for long-range things. His mind is well used to the feel of Blacksending, and as such is more susceptible to even the lightest touch of it. He knows how to rest his mind afterwards in order to recover as quickly as possible.
Levitation/Flight - Incredible Control : Savith is a born glider, able to skitter through the air with but a thought. He can lift other objects, elves and so forth as well. The heavier the object or the finer the manipulations on the object being lifted, the more concentration it requires. He can fly in a fast sprint, rocketing to his top speed in mere seconds, but it doesn't last long. He can cruise, maintaining a speed about half his top speed for nearly a full day before being too tired to continue.
Recognition Preference: Random
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:10 pm
Adin Crosscurrent
Approved on: Wed May 14, 2008 9:37 pm
Soulname: Nyth
Tribe: Wavedancer
Gender: male
Age: (mature)
Hair: blue-tinted blonde, worn to his calves in a low ponytail (leather and beads wrapped around close at his mid-back only)
Eyes: bright jade
Skin: bitter sweet chocolate brown
Tail: brick red and crimson (fins on his forearms)
Sending: average
Magic Feeling: low
Flesh-shaping: average (upon himself only. A long tail or land legs)
History:
Second born son, Adin was a frail child. The healers had to take care to allow his body to adjust to the corrections they did on him. His older brother took to staying at his side to entertain the bored child.
Once he was almost a young adult he was well. And he took to making up for lost time by become an active teen. His brother, Adir, was being taught as a crafter while he took to being a hunter. They were as identical in appearance as twins despite the decade of years between them.
Chief Wintershore and Chief Darkpearl took them as heirs some time after they'd choosen their adult names. With Adin's adventurous go-forward nature he was called Crosscurrent: his more relaxed brother had taken to being called Riverbask for his habbits.
There has been loss. And births. Their mother died with another tribemate when Adin was over 200. Adir Riverbask had a child from Recognition while Adin Crosscurrent lost his best-friend. Centuries pasted. Their father found another love, Riverbask raised a family, and Crosscurrent patrolled the human fishing areas to insure no more nets, such as killed his friend, were used.
Crosscurrent actively watched the humanas. He led other hunters (with Chief Wintershore's wary eyes on them) into destroying those nets which might entangle tribemates. Killed a few in 'accidental' fashions to deter fishers from certain areas. The Chief reminded him of caution as well as limited it from become a blood feud between them.
When the moons shattered Crosscurrent had been taking Eltiln, a young friend, to prepare for his Soulname Quest. Crosscurrent, Eltiln, another hunter & cousin of the boy, went some distance from the usual tribe territory. It was to allow some safety in letting the boy try his hand at taking care of himself: to let him experiment with his new weapon, get a little advice from the adults, and generally much like a camp out with the boy doing all the work.
When the sea receded it also badly hurt Eltiln. Suddenly the trio were upon a high cliff far from the water. The other hunter had been seperated from them, but in Sending distance. Poor Eltiln couldn't be moved much. Moving him to one of the pools of water hadn't helped him but it let him survive. For almost two months the two made do with their new area while Myuadi travelled beyond Sending range to find the tribe (and hopefully a Healer).
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THE TRIBE
Much of the tribe consists of elves who can shape their tails into legs, or have shaped fins upon their calves. A small number are born with merely tails as their magic is something else (rock shapers or healers usually). There is no difference between them.
Leadership isn't by birth, but two are chosen.
There are two main approaches for this: a pair where one tends to those who remain behind and the other who leads the hunters, is the most common. Usually lifemates, but siblings & soul-siblings can be too. The thought is to have like minded partners who can handle working a part from the other.
The other approach is to have only one Chief. Normally this is only if one of the pair dies - there have been two ambious elves who have made them wary of only one leader. It is expected though that the Chief train two heirs/ select another partner the tribe agrees with.
Humans have a large impact on the Wavedancers. While the tribe stayed near remote beaches, islands and such, they have known of the human's fishermen. [more like hawaiian or alaskan then larger european boats]
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TRIBEMATES
Chief (crafter): Adir Riverbask, looks just like twin. A minor healer and crafter of clothes. The more social, laidback leader.
Chief (hunter): Darkpearl, still leads the hunters, partnered with Riverbask as his mentor. Named for the dark depths he can dive and his dark hair.
Teen (hunter): Eltiln - about to go on his Soulname Quest/become an adult. Light brown hair with bangs framing his face with a long scarf-cap that's tassle ends go to his lower back. His tail is cinnamon and tan. Barely tanned skin. Most noticeable is the lighter scale color at his kidneys where he'd gotten badly scrapped in a coral reef. DEAD
Hunter: Myuadi Jellyfish-Dodger, a slightly older comrade with a perfect sense of direction. Summer red haired, with a tail of purple and black. He was with them when the moons shattered and left them to search for the tribe.
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NOTE
Since I've not played a Wavedancer before, nor have the stats, physical characteristics are from the DnD Aquatic Elves.
Since there seems to be two versions to their naming I've simply combined both of them; the sound name given at birth and used in intimacy, and a descriptive name choosen as an adult and used more. Soulnames remain secretive.
Recognition Status: none
(for the time being. I'd like to RP a bit before that comes into play)
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:15 pm
Starsong
Approved on: Wed May 14, 2008 9:38 pm
Age: 177
Tribe: Forbidden Grove - Wolfrider
Skills: Hunting, First Aid, Skinning, Fletching, Marksmanship, Star reading(Astronomy)
Magic
Sending: Above Average
Magic Feeling: Slight
Finding (Prey Animals): Unaware of Power - Lvl 0
Animal Bonding: Controlled
Recognition: Random
Desc:
The first thing you notice about this young elf is her hair. White as the snow in the whitecold season, and almost as bright. Her frosty mane radiates out from her face, falling a little past her shoulders, being held back by a bright band of Royal blue. Below her short unruly bangs is a pair of vibrant, piercing, almond shaped green eyes. If you look a little closer you would be able to see flecks of gold embedded in the emerald green. Her face is simple, and usually emotionless.
Her clothing is ragged, simple green leathers to blend into the forest and a dark green cape to keep off the rain. Almost tatters now she has yet to find anything to mend or replace them with. Her boots had fallen apart somewhere between the walk from the Grove holt to Blue Mountain.
As you gaze at her, you get the feeling that she is a quiet, reserved elf. Simple, and mild, content on keeping her own company. And yet you wonder, maybe it is her intention. She can be seen mostly at night, with her head to the sky. On her back she carries a bow and a quiver full of sharp arrows. Slung to her hip is her fathers obsidian dagger, another one concealed in her boot. Around her neck, sometimes concealed by her tunic is an amulet she received a long, long time ago from a good friend. She is a wanderer, a keeper, and a maker. Her ever faithful wolf friend Shine, is always at her side.
Past:
She is a wanderer, a lost soul, searching for her place in the world. For many turns of the seasons she has been alone, walking the dark paths at night, and using the stars to guide her. No elf knows the lament in her heart, or the dreams in her head.
Born off the recognition between Nightsinger and Moonstar, in the grove holt, on a frigid winters eve. Her birth name which she has kept thus far symbolizes her entrance into this world. Through the cloud coverage, and the lightly falling snow, a single star pierced through the clouds, allowing its light for all to see. With the preservers singing in the background, the beauty of the night shown apparent in Moonstar's eyes as she named her firstborn with pride.
She grew up with her parents in the Grove holt, learning the ways of life an necessity. For many turns she's hunted and howled, laughed and cried, has loved and been loved in return. Many adventures have taken her to many places, she has seen the darkness with her own eyes. After leaving her home and returning again a much older soul, she has struggled to keep herself in the true wolfrider way. A difficult journey to the brink of madness, then back again. During this time she has lost many loved ones, and has brought a son into the world.
Though now all is presumably lost. The world torn asunder by an explosion in the heavens. She awoke to find herself in a land she didn't recognize, with the Glider Savith. After nursing Savith back to life, they ventured into the broken world. She wonders why the high ones saw it fit not to take her into their heavenly embrace.
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2008 7:17 pm
GentleMidnightDancer
Approved on: Thu May 15, 2008 11:20 am
Her Name is Midnight Dancer. She is of the Cat Elves. Her Tribe was once called Fangs of Silence but now is lost to her... She is an adult but still given to playful mischief. Dressed in shades of green she blended in with the thick grasses and lush jungles she once played in. Long black hair surrounds a soft featured face that holds two piercing blue eyes and just reaches the thigh. Full soft lips can often be found smiling as it is her nature to do so. Her sleek form is 4'1" and very fit as were most of her kind. She is a mix of emotions and often quick to smile rather then frown. Dancer is a loyal friend that stands with you till the end... She is quick, acrobatic and skilled in the hunt as most elves are... She is a skilled fishermen and swims very well... Dancers downfall would be her inquisitive nature... She has often caused trouble by just taking a closer look... Growing up her Father taught his only flower to look for the answers of the endless stream of questions she had. He never tired of his daughters mind wanting to know as much as it could comprehend. Even if he was upset with her for swiping an item left behind by a five finger he always foun a way to scold her without crushing the interest. Dancers Mother was the sensible one. Practical and to the point as she often found her daughter doing or playing with something she shouldn't be. It was an endless admiration of the wildlife that most upset her Mother. Not wanting every creature of the grasslands and jungle in her home when Dancer brought them. Still Dancer was a healthy child for all her mischief. If a wound came about it often healed quickly and she was off again. When Fire Bright was big enough to ride it only made her harder to keep watch on.
Fire Bright is a large male tiger... His weight normly is close to 500lbs... Thick black stripes against the orange and white background of his nearly 9ft body are an appoising sight... Tigers have longer hind legs than forelegs and can therefore spring forward a distance of almost 32ft...
The tiger has the largest canines of all the big cats, at 2.5 to 3 inches long... The claws can be a fearsome four inches long... Curved claws allow tigers to climb trees head first, but to come down they must crawl backward or jump. This disadvantage, coupled with their size and weight, makes tigers inferior climbers compared with other big cats.A relaxed tiger has a droopy tail. A tiger meeting a friend waves a raised tail slowly. A tiger's tail swishing madly from side to side or held low with just the occasional twitch indicates aggression... Hearing is its most highly developed sense, far more important to its success as a hunter than either sight or smell. The tiger's ability to communicate by infrasound, a sound wave with a frequency below the range of normally audible sound...
Many animals, such as elephant and whales, communcate at this low-pitched level. Infrasound is fantastically useful for communicating over long distances or through dense vegetation because it literally passes straight through objects ranging from leaves to trees to mountains...
Age: All of 75. (I am an adult DAMIT!) icon_whee.gif
Recognition:Random
Soul Name: None icon_sad.gif (pouts)
Magic
Sending
Magic Feeling
Healing: Approved at powerlevel Unaware of Power.
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 7:56 pm
BlazingRock, Blaze for short
Approved on: Thu May 15, 2008 11:28 am
Age: 900 years, give or take a few
Soulname: Raza (hidden)
Recognition Status: taken (read “magics”)
Tribe: Dunerunners, and extinct tribe of desert nomads that established themselves on the rugged southern side of the massive dormant volcano to the south of Sorrow’s End. With a long history of raiding and being raided by a rival human tribe of nomads, they were possessed with a tough, warrior spirit similar to that of the Wolfriders. Indeed, they were the descendants of the aggressive element of the forefathers of the pacifist elves of Sorrow’s End. The talent to spark small fires was not unheard of among the Dunerunners, for the dry, hot badlands were the perfect place to develop the skill. Blaze had been chief of the tribe for the last 300 years; a testament to his strong will to lead. During the Great Cataclysm, a lava flow from the volcano trapped them and burned them all but Blaze.
Description: Rough and jovial, Blaze is a straight-forward, unhesitant survivalist. Well-muscled for an elf, centuries of desert life have made him quick-witted and amazingly agile on loose rock, sand, and steep cliff faces. His fiery orange hair is light enough that the slightest breeze leaves him looking windswept, and he wears his beard in a pair of beaded braids. He favors light-weight tight-fitting clothing, and is seldom without his trademark wide-brimmed hat. He has a habit of covering his dusty tan skin with complex patterns of charcoal paint similar to henna tattoos. Somewhat of an exhibitionist, he takes care in his personal appearance, and has an apparent like for the color red. It should be well-noted that he has a massive aversion to deep water. Anything over chest-deep he won’t go near; and being pushed/pulled under can leave him with headtrips for days and nightmares for weeks, as well as a strong dislike for whoever dunked him. Similarly, wet weather can lower his spirits and make him irritable, even spiteful. Yet although he can go for quite a while without water, he has no aversion to drinking the stuff.
Backstory: Blaze has done his best to forget his past, preferring to live in the present, but the fate of his tribe has quite literally been burned into his heart, for among those immolated in the eruption were his life-long soulmate BrightSands and their only cub. The exact details of the fateful day are something he has buried deeply, and he is extremely unwilling to talk about them, save to say that he has a borderline obsession with the safety of mothers and children.
Magics: Blaze is quite possibly one of the most accomplished fire-shapers since the high ones. After discovering his talent at an early age, he has pushed his control to the limits time and time again until he could start or smother campfires and shape flames into images without so much as breaking a sweat. However, he had reached a ceiling to his power, and try as he might he couldn’t accumulate the heat to intensify his fires further. Yet in his darkest hour he also gained his greatest skill. As his loved tribemates perished horribly in the fiery lava, their conjoined deathsends left a void in his soul. The terrible energy of the volcano flowed in to fill it, and in that instant he experienced a twisted sort of recognition with the heat in everything. In all respects, his soulmate became fire. With this deep new affinity his old restrictions were shattered, and his powers took on a more dangerous light. By causing the heat around him to flow into things, he can raise their temperatures dramatically (or gently, if the need arises), and if the object is even somewhat flammable he can ignite it, and from there he can intensify the flames until the object is burning steadily. He can also ignite thin air without a fuel source, although this is substantially more difficult.
However, his magic has its flaws. Firstly, the amount of heat and fuel available directly affects the intensity and size of his fire; without adequate heat or oxygen his fires become small and feeble. Wet weather can also make things difficult for him; in anything more than a light drizzle his fire-shaping is going to be almost useless. His range is also somewhat limited, with a normal use of about ten feet, up to forty feet at his highest level of effort. Although small fuel-les fires are the normal limit of his daily use, he does have access to extremely hot, flamethrower-style bursts, as well as concussive blasts. These sort of fires are extremely taxing for him because of the amounts of heat required, and during any longer a period of use than five seconds, he runs the risk of overtaxing himself and passing out, and if he were to try for twelve seconds he would die without the immediate help of an experienced healer. This weapons-grade level of use also has a risk of backfiring and burning him or giving him heatstroke. Obviously, he hardly ever risks that level of shaping.
His sends are powerful and long-reaching, but hard to hide from uninvolved elves because of their peculiar heat signature, which makes the recipient and anyone near feel oddly warm, even parched, depending on the intensity of the send. However, this is only a mental deception; there is no actual heat.
Blaze has a relatively low magic feeling, except for when the magic in question was involved with fire.
Weaponry: While Blaze’s fire is undeniably deadly, it is neither his first line of attack or defense. His weapons of choice are fire-hardened hardwood stakes of varying sizes that he employs as deftly as blades, and a heavy torch/staff that carries starter-embers and can be used as a potent beatdown weapon. These wooden weapons can be given an extra kick by means of his fire-shaping, or give him something to “grow” fire from. Though experienced in crafting obsidian weapons, he dislikes them for their fragility and incombustibility, but has in the past created lethal obsidian-bladed maces. Although his fire-shaping skills could have made him an excellent blacksmith, he has never seen a steel weapon until now. It should also be noted that he has no skill whatsoever with ranged weapons such as throwing-spears or bows.
Animal: The small, nondescript armadillo that follows him everywhere is named Leatherback, or Backy. It has no special qualities except for it’s ability to curl up into a ball, but it does seem to have a cat-like relationship with Blaze.
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 7:57 pm
Name: Relim
Wed May 21, 2008 8:33 am
Soulname: Wouldn't you like to know
Age: 420 yrs
Tribe: Go-Backs
Desc:
Relim is a go-back. That's the first thing that you can tell about him, and that's without him even saying a word. He smiles at you like a friend, his pale blue eyes glinting merrily like the flickering from the fire pit, mischief seems to shine behind them. His hair, a light auburn like blood drying on a freshly killed deer hide, swirls wild around his head. He stands about 3'5 feet tall...average for a Go-Back, and thoroughly muscled. He can usually be seen with a sly smile on his face, and is ever ready for a good drink, a great story or a roll in the furs.
His clothing is simple...some would say crude, but obviously warm since he did live in the frozen mountains. A dark brown shirt covers his upper body, green pants cover his legs, the cuffs tucked into thick moccasins, well broken in.
Accessories are few and far between, but very appropriate. A small leather pouch hangs from his belt, a necklace that once was his mothers before she was lost in the troll war, and of course, his most prized possession, his father's brightmetal sword, shed countless amounts of blood in his eternal search for honor.
Backstory:
Born durring the greatest blizzard the tribe had ever seen, his mother was... Azil maybe, his father was no doubt Nacn as they looked almost identical. He was raised by the tribes fawn-tender as his mother was usually out hunting or doing high ones knows what. Raised in the tribe, he became proficient with the spear as all youth did. Kahvi was his source of inspiration and constant amusement, he loved pulling pranks on her just to get her to notice him. After he was 60 turns old, still a fawn to some, the great troll war hit. He wanted to fight along side the others but a broken leg from falling off the mountain side made him stay. He learned of his father's death when they brought his sword back with the wounded and dead. He grieved, the only way he knew how, harboring his hate for the trolls and the magic users that took a great warrior's life.
From that day on, he honed his skill in the blade, using it for everything from digging holes to gutting bears. The smith of the tribe taught him how to refine the blade and keep it strong and sharp.
Many years went by and life in the great white north grew stagnant, as it did from time to time. Visitors came and went and he longed to see the vast deep and the ground made of earth. Snow and blood was all he knew. He took off with his "mother" to search for the palace of the high ones, and ended up in Sorrow's end. Meeting some very nice and sweet smelling lasses. He stayed for a few turns, then the great Cataclysm struck. The ocean seemed to swallow the land whole, and those who didn't make it to higher ground were swept away, down under the earth into the blackness.
Magics:
Sending: Barely Controlled
Magic Feeling: None
Magics: None
Recognition: Random though most gobacks procreate with out it.
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 8:00 pm
Name: Llune
Mon May 26, 2008 2:19 pm
Age: ~8,000 turns
Tribe: Glider of Blue Mountain
Soulname: Unknown
* * *
Decription:
Llune is glider tall, somewhere around 5'5", and thin. Her wrists are small, her fingers delicate, her skin palest white. Her angel-fine hair falls in long, silvery locks of slowly undulating curls that barely surpass her ankles. Her features are fine, her eyes a pale charcoal gray. Her mouth is small but her lips are plump, and despite her alabaster pallor her cheeks are pink and healthy.
Currently she is wearing a tattered dress that once had fine bedwork in firey oranges. The hem has been destroyed, and it's tattered edge is mended with a skirt of woven leaves. Because of the horrendous changes, the sleeves and her shoes have long since been lost, though when necessary Llune wears a leafy coat she fashioned from dried leaves. The faded orange dress is snug around the abdominal area, and hints at the growing belly beneath, though one must look closely to notice.
* * *
Background:
I.
Though she has lost exact count, Llune is about 8,000 turns of age. Born to quiet, less than extraordinary parents, Llune grew up pampered and privileged. Her parents, Rein and Osella, were over-protective of their apparently magicless child, and encouraged her to read or do needle-point rather than play. She was weaker - nay - more delicate than most other elves, and so shaped her life around her inabilities. Though born with no magical capacity outside of gliding and sending, Llune is an exquisite specimen; tall and slim, her build makes an ideal mannequin for any conceivable manner of clothing.
Being magic-less and fragile, it was only natural for Llune to concentrate her energy on decoration, and after a few decades of intensive practice, she became an incredible seamstress and artist. Her clothes were well-made and extraordinary; durable and strong, yet laced with intricate designs of vibrant, subtly matching colors. After a few hundred years Llune was an expert on fabrics, dyes, and embroidery. Her fashion sense has helped shape every style of glider dress for many thousands of years, and will influence glider fashion for many years to come. Every conceivable color, texture, weave and arrangement has been explored by Llune. Indeed, Llune's fondness of colors caused her creativity to branch out to painting and flower growing.
By no means is Llune a snob. Her fragility houses an all-enduring tenderness to the rest of the world. Not loving only living things, Llune adores the very ground she walks on, the air she breathes. She is innocent, frank, and enjoys the finer things in life. While she is used to cushions and fine wine, herbal teas and fresh fruits. Even so, she would quickly find the beauty in even the roughest of living situations. Her focus is upon the aesthetic, not necessarily right or wrong, though she truly believes everyone would be better off if they'd just be *nice* to each other.
During Llune's youth, while apprenticing to be a seamstress, she encountered a elfess many years her senior, named Tarek. They became fast friends, Tarek with her passionate personality, Llune with her quiet logic, and confided everything to each other. Everything until Elian.
II.
When Llune took over as head tailor of the mountain, she required help shaping her quarters to accomodate her "office." Her help turned out to be Elian, who Llune developed a great affection for the easy-going glider. Though she enlisted his assistance at every opportunity, he was focused on her dearest friend - Tarek. Indeed, the Tarek and Elian were meant to be,
because the two recognized shortly after they met by chance in Llune's quarters. Llune simply faded from the picture, concentrating more and more completely on her craft.
However, When Tarek was turned to stone, with Elian quickly to follow, Llune felt immense guilt for not doing *something* to help them. When offered Savith, Llune accepted immediately, and combined her affection for Tarek and Elian and focused it upon her 'son.'
Savith, however, completely misunderstood the nature of his parents departure He thought they left because he was without magic, so Llune strove desperately to show that he could be talented despite his lack of magical ability, that he deserved to be loved regardless of his supposed insignificance. She knew why the two had abandoned their child, but the guilt of her jealousy and secret affection kept her silent, and she never told the young elf. He was a little child, sad, scared and alone when Llune took him in, and her love for him helped to dull the edges of the pain of losing his parents.
But like all children, eventually they grow up. Since Savith left her protection, Llune began working exclusively on clothing again, though she she has a few apprentices that put the pieces together after she's cut them. She plays the harp and sings, is the effervescent social butterfly at events, enjoys astronomical study, and designs custom-fit garb for her fellow gliders as gifts.
When her son recognized and was forced to leave the mountain to find a healer, Llune went along and was exposed to a whole other species of elves - the Wolfriders. Naive and careless and, of course, fascinated by the pretty sound of howling, Llune brought this habit back to the mountain and was punished for it. The punishment (grounding from sewing and other creative activities) affected her deeply, and she began again to behave. However, she suddenly began to actually listen to political discussions in the mountain. Her priorities didn't *change*, they expanded.
III.
Although Llune had spent the entirety of her life having extensive, magical dreams, she had been assured since birth that she had no special magical abilities. Little did she know that her dreaming life was an unconscious practice of her innate astral projection skills. Over the course of 8,000 turns she has developed the length of time she can spend on the astral
plane, though is only able to project in her sleep, and with a fair amount of control as she's been dreaming 'lucidly' for at least 2,000 years.
It is this unknown ability that allowed Llune to recognize someone outside the mountain, though she was never allowed out unsupervised. In a dream one night, Llune bumped into another elf, one with creamy dark skin and bright brown eyes. She felt this closeness, heard the whisper of a soulname, and then awoke in a cold sweat. She failed to understand her
situation, and had similar dreams over the course of a number of nights.
She began to feel ill, feverish, nauseated, and began to make more frequent visits to the outside for particular herbs for teas. Although she was always taken out under the watchful eye of one of the Chosen, her visits were so frequent that the guard generally had lost interest in her outside activities, and would usually hunt until she sent to be taken back to the mountain.
It is on one of these semi-private visits outside that Llune stumbled upon Errite, a tall foreign elf, whose skin was the creamy mocha of a desert people and his eyes the color of topaz. Awestruck by his beauty, Llune could hardly speak and so only sent him clips of the dreams, which he was able to return in kind. But Llune's prudish, reserved nature prevented her
from immediately consummating the recognition. Indeed, Errite was a poetic plant shaper and quite reserved himself, and agreed to the forbidden and fiercely romantic courtship. The two were perfect compliments - and began to meet secretly outside the mountain on a regular basis. It was not long before they fulfilled their recognition, and Errite convinced Llune to run away with him.
They planned their escape, but truly were no match for the wiley ways of Lord Winnowill and the Chosen. It is actually a sort of twisted luck that during this fast failing escape the moons collided and the world was forever changed. The mountain was nearly out of sight on the horizon when it happened. As Llune and Errite ran from the quickly closing Chosen, they were knocked flat on their stomachs. The ground was shaking violently, and they weren't able to stand, were barely able to crawl towards each other. Just as the tips of their fingers and their eyes met, the world split and the cacophony of the collapsing mountain deafened their screams.
IV.
Llune woke at the bottom of a chasm, just as the first fingers of dawn's light were flicking across the ridge hundreds, maybe thousands of feet above her. How many days had passed? One? Two? Two hands of days? She didn't know.
Both her legs were caught and painfully twisted under a collection of stone and debris. There were no other elves anywhere in sight. Though she was weak, Llune sent with all her might as far as she was able. The blow to her head and her body prevented her sending from being entirely effective, and she spent a few more days under the rubble, waking only to desperately send, all in vain. She had used her gliding skill to float the miraculously nearby pouch of escape supplies over to herself, and began to focus her remaining energy on lifting the stones off her legs. She was very obviously unable to walk once she had freed herself, and her food supplies were fast running out.
Only able to glide and support her damaged legs for short periods of time, Llune opted to move along the bottom of the canyon rather than attempt to climb out of it. She moved roughly in the direction of where she had been told the great water was, in the hopes that perhaps she would be able to drink some of this great water. Clearly Llune's knowledge of the world was desperately lacking.
But, at last, fortune was to shine upon her, and she happened to come upon a spring that had been uncovered in the disaster. Water trickled from this cracked aquifer and pooled at the base of the rock, then moved away further along the chasm. Boulders formed cavities large enough to serve as a rude sort of dwelling, and Llune did precisely that. She healed slowly without the assistance of magic, and began to rely more and more upon her gliding abilities to manipulate the world around her.
It so happened that the supply pouch she recovered after the disaster held an additional stroke of luck - Errite's bulbs and seeds. Sadly, at the bottom of the chasm, Llune was cradled in a series of sheer rock faces and various rubble. Her dried fruits and vegetables were running out, and there was no dirt - or plant shaping magic - to make sure she didn't starve.
Still, Llune spent her recuperating days gathering debris and slowly crushing and watering it into dirt. She planted. She watered. She lost weight, and she hoped. Perhaps Errite's plant-shaping magic had stuck with the seeds. Perhaps the minerals in the synthesized soil were especially healthy for these particular seeds. Whatever the case, Llune was once again in luck, and the plants grew fast and she didn't starve.
In the months after the disaster, Llune has started healed and is able to walk with a limp for very short periods of time, and is only able to glide for short periods of time also. She has managed to fashion a home in a pile of rubble, decorated with flowers and woven mats. All around the opening of the spring, Llune has begun to painstakingly carve shelves into the rock walls and plant flowers there. In any crack or crevice that will hold her debris scavenged dirt, some sort of plant grows.
Because Llune's knowledge of plants and seeds is limited to flowers, there is no regularity to the plants growing in any particular area. Her home is clean, and though the floor is covered by mats, underneath is only rock. But Llune knows she can't survive alone, and has begun to scout along the chasm on a daily basis, toward the great water, sending as far as she is able. To date there has no response, but Llune has high hopes that someone is around, and if she just stays close to water, well, surely she'll come across some others, somehow...
V.
One night, a few hours after Llune put herself to bed, an earthquake occurred that cracked the aquifer further, causing an immediate and surprising flood. Llune was unaware of all this until she was soaked and water was flooding into her humble abode and washing her out into what had now become a dangerous river. The skies had opened in a tremendous storm, and Llune was swept downstream like a rag doll.
Taxed from her busy day scouting, and not having had much sleep, Llune tapped her energy further by using her delicate arms and legs as well as her levitation abilities to keep herself from drowning. The violent storm didn't make it any easier, and Llune was hard pressed to tell up from down. As day broke and the storm abated, Llune was able to pull herself out of the now swollen but significantly calmer river to collapse, exhausted, upon the river's edge. And finally, she slept.
Little did she know that she had landed only a few miles upstream from the cove a handful of other elves had settled at. Indeed, were she to awaken, she would be able to hear, faintly, a waterfall off in the distance, and possibly even happy yells of elves leaping into the water below. All that is left for her to do is wander toward the waterfall before she could be reunited with her kin. Will she do it? Will she attempt to go back to her rocky home? Will she try to drink the greatwater? The world may never know. Unless they were to read the thread in "The Cove - Morning Fishing."
* * *
Magics:
Levitation: Very well controlled - she can fly at the rate of a steady jog for a few hours, and can lift objects up to about 1/3 her weight.
Sending: Very well controlled - Her sending range is a few miles, and she is comfortable sending emotions and ideas as well as words.
Astral Projection: Barely controlled - *NOTE: Llune can ONLY astrally project IN HER SLEEP. She has no knowledge of her skills ICly, though practices regularly each night when she sleeps. When she awakens, only the strongest impressions of what happened over the night remain. This skill is intended to be discovered ICly, and to be something she will struggle to gain control of in her waking life. So she has zero control of her astral projection while awake, and some control when she's asleep.
Magic Feeling: Nil. Less than nil. She's absolutely clueless. Seriously.
* * *
Recognition Status: Currently Recognized
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Posted: Thu Jun 12, 2008 8:02 pm
Name: Peyote
Approved on: Wed May 21, 2008 12:04 pm
Age: 800
Soulname NONE
Description
Peyote is a dark skinned maiden from Sorrow's End. Long lush locks of black hair, and warm honey colored eyes. She wears a tattered two piece dress that once was bright and colorful.
Backstory
Peyote was born in the village of Sorrow's End. Her life as seen the arrival of the Wolfriders and gliders and all manner of elf into her hometown. ANd at each fesitval, she's the one serving drinks and making sure everyone wants for nothing. She's bright, bubbling, and a gossiping goose. During the cataclysm, she was out picking more catcus bulbs from which to brew her napal wine. On high end, she watched the ocean swallow her home. Lost and afraid, she stumbled about in clueless shock.
Magics
Sending: No Control (she can't hear open sends, locksends are odd buzzings in her mind, and blacksends are oh so painful but she doesn't know why)
Recognition Status: Random
Signature.
Total Value: 10,364 Gold
[Item Information]
Item List:
Daisy's Sunny Dress
Yellow Neck Ribbon
White Poinsettia Hairpiece
Lovely Genie Purple Headpiece
Lovely Genie Red Headpiece
Lovely Genie Gold Bangle Bracelets
Lovely Genie Gold Bangle Bracelets
Lovely Genie Gold Arm Bangle
Lovely Genie Gold Arm Bangle
Long-Stem Gilded Rose
Gold Promise Ring
Gold Hoop Earrings
Flashion Yellow Shoes
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Posted: Sun Jun 15, 2008 6:20 am
Name: Dewpaw
Sun Jun 15, 2008 6:20 am
Age: barely more than a cub
Soulname: Hidden
Tribe: Wolfriders
Wolf partner: Morningtail. He is a brown-ish grey wolf cub, just recently big enough to carry Dewpaw. Their bond was strong early on, as their mothers were partners.
Description:
Dewpaw is a young elf with amber colored hair and light green eyes, lighter than fresh buds in the spring. She is short, just below the average height of a wolfrider cub. Dewpaw wears simple brown leathers and green cloth. She has a green cloth shirt that drapes on her right side and she ties on her left side, just below the arm. She wears a brown leather skirt and when not barefoot, simple leather moccasins. Dewpaw is rarely seen without a flower of some kind in her hair. She also wears a tattered brown scarf, a piece of clothe that belonged to her brother. She carries with her two knifes, hers and her brother’s. Her knife is simple, a slightly curved blade on a leather bound hilt. Her brother’s is slightly more elaborate, as he shaped a wooden wolfhead onto the hilt.
Dewpaw is extremely curious, always seeking answers and trying to learn all she can about nature and the world that surrounds her. She is only average in her skills, as she is still a cub and is learning. She has taken a greater interest in tracking and tanning than in anything else. While not shy, she does like to be alone, often escaping to the trees, jumping branch to branch rather than touching the ground.
Back story:
Dewpaw was born in the original Grove Holt, not long before the Cataclysm. She was named so for her mother claimed, “the child wakes before the morning dew can pass away beneath the rays of the rising sun“. She followed her older brother, Leaffoot around constantly, hoping to gain his abilities as a tree-shaper, even though his powers were barely developed. Leaffoot in turn, watched out for her, keeping her out of trouble when he could. She was raised typically for a wolfrider cub, enjoying most her freedom in the trees and the day she met her wolf partner, Morningtail.
During the cataclysm, Dewpaw had found herself wandering around, just inside the tribes hunting territory. She remembers little of the event, only a string of quick images flashing through her mind with only pain-filled voices, screams, and terrible noises to correspond with them. After the dust cleared and the air fell silent, she searched for and found her brother, already passed. Her family had not made it out of the holt. She took her brother’s dagger and the torn clothe from his shirt, using it as a scarf she always keeps with her.
She howled for her family, howled for her lost home, and howled for all the pain that existed, until her throat became raw and she could no longer let her song ring out.
She joined in the new holt, finding comfort amongst her fellow elves.
Magic
Sending: Level 4 - Somewhat Controlled. Dewpaw is both a skilled sender and one susceptible to strong sending, making her highly vulnerable to blacksending. Her abilities are stronger with elves she shares a strong bond with.
Magic Feeling: 2 - No Control of Power.
Animal Bonding (Wolves): 2 - No Control of Power.
Recognition Status: random
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Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2008 6:59 pm
Name: Autumn's Joy
Soul Name: He will know
Age: 800
Recognition: Random
Tribe: Wolfrider
Sending: 7
Magic feeling: 1
Magic: Rock Shaping: 4
Hair of fire and a temper to match Autumns Joy is far from unremarkable. Glittering green eyes gaze at you for a long moment before the send touches your mind. Should you be unable to send then you will find it hard to speak to this quickly annoyed beauty. With no healer in her tribe for many many turns Autumn grew up mute. When a healer was available she refused as she was set in her ways and found the lack of chatter no bother. The sleek Wolfrider female is all of four foot nothing. Born as most elves are born, by recognition.
As silent as her mouth are this ones steps through the woods. As is with most Wolfriders Autumn knows the skills she needs to survive; hunting, fishing, swimming, climbing and of course to walk the trees as she walks the land. As a child she was called the silent pup. A name that both fit and wounded at the same time. Wolves were supposed to howl and her heart so wanted to join the wolf song. As she grew she never wanted for much and was never treated like a bother for her communication in sending grew fast and strong. Another skill found at an early age was rock-shaping. Her Mother and Father looked astounded as she placed her hand print into a near by boulder. Ever since they have done what they could to help their cub grow and learn. Her skill useful in weapon and tool making for all in the tribe.
Now in her 800th year the world she has known has changed so much. The moon has torn to chunks and bits with survival being hard at best. Her bond lost, her tribe gone and the endless moving as she hunts. Hunts for food, hunts for water, hunts for others and hunts for the strength to go one. She pulls from the animal inside her more and more with each passing day to keep her mind from going mad at the unending silence of all she knew and the endless chatter that seems now to consume her mind with none to speak
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Posted: Wed Oct 08, 2008 6:26 pm
Creek Runner
Age: about 100 (yesh, he is an adult)
Soulname: Rhen
Tribe: Plainsrunner
Description:
Creek Runner is a young adult elf with black hair and eyes and tanned skin from being in the sun. He is the average height for a plainsrunner, just a little taller than a Sun Folk. Because of his life in the plains, nomadic in nature, he is trim, and light on his feet.
Creek is quite, not speaking often, including sending. He plays tough, but he's shy and reserved. He likes to think things through before saying anything. His weakness is cubs, ever since his little sister was born, he could not refuse a cub anything.
Oddly, on top of being a good hunter, he's a good cook.
Back story:
Creek Runner was born into a nomadic plainsrunner tribe. He grew up learning how to hunt and ride no-humps, even combining the two so as to shoot an arrow from the back of a no-hump. His mother and father were both hunters, while his mom doubled as a cook, and his dad a tanner. He picked up both skills, although his cooking ability was always ebtter than even his hunting.
Creek's name was given to him becuase of his uncanny ability to find water nearby, which led to the discovery that he had "finding" magic. As he got older, he helped his tribe find water to camp by.
When Creek's sister was born, he felt a strong connection with her and took an active role in caring for her, even showing her how to shoot a bow. She was never as skilled as he or as natural, but he enjoyed teaching her.
He met his first love shortly after he was deemed an adult, having completed his first hunt and his "journey". ((Um, I based the Plainsrunners a lot off of Native American tribes, so they have similar customs. Is that okay?)). She was Weaver, a skilled crafter in the tribe with green eyes that he couldn't help but look into. He would bring her gifts from his hunts, new grasses adn furs to work with. And she, in return, would help him with his clothes. they never recognized, and she soon found another lovemate. He dealt with this, realizing she had only been his frist lovemate, not his lifemate.
When the moons shattered, Creek was searching for water with a few otehrs tribeselves. Him and the others became seperated, the nohumps they were riding sppoked and ran off. He lost his, unable to calm it, and set back to the tent village on his own. When Creek made it back to the village, a day later, he found that the others had already returned. The place had been cleaned of useful and personal objects and the dead properly cared for. He found his sister's grave and his father's. Hoping to find them, he found what he could and went out on his own.
He stumbled on the forest and sensed teh presence of elves, saw signs of elves having passed by. Hoping its his family, he went into the woods.
Sending: average (about a 5)
Magic Feeling: around average(about a 5)
Magics: Finding (controlled, 5)
Recognition Status: random
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Posted: Sun Oct 12, 2008 8:17 am
Name: Airana Fathom
Soul Name: Nee
Previous/nickname: Little Pearl
Age: Adult
Gender: female
Hair: Her hair is to about her waist or where her tail starts. It flows as the water moves it and often hides her slender face. The color is blue with white streaks and white edges, looking much like a wave might.
Eyes: Amber colored eyes peer at you through the lengths of hair. Most often they shine with a joy that can only be know to those children of the sea. They also cannot be in the bright sunlight. If she pokes her head above water it would most likely be during an overcast day or at night. These eyes are best equipped for the darkness of the depths she enjoys exploring.
Build: Fathom is sleek and long. She has the tail of a shark that sets her apart from most of the others with fish tails. Her elf form and shark form combined set her at a length of about 71/2 feet. The longest part of her is the shark. It also gives her a different swimming style and sometimes can catch her tribe mates off guard.
Skin tone: I wanted to make her dark skinned but maybe she should have a more pale skin if she never really comes out of the water and likes the deep deep waters. I mean she wouldn't mind basking on rocks on a nice to cloudy day but I thought intense sun would hurt her eyes. (any sugestions?)
Tail: The sharks tail is a smoky gray with darker areas around the fins and down the middle of the back. The underbelly is a light gray that fades into white. In the right light one might even notice the speckles that run down the length of her back. She has two dorsal fins along the spine and five smaller fins on her underbelly. The upper half of her tail is also considerably longer then the lower.
MAGIC- Her water magic is strictly the movement of water. Making things that are natural to the ocean. IE-waves,water spouts and whirlpools. She cannot make ice or fog or change the temp of it for hot or cold. She can only move it as it would move in the ocean to defend or play with her tribe members. She also can't pull water from larger bodies of water. Like pull water into the air or suck water out of plants and such. She can only move existing water.
Sending - Average
Sense Magic - Strong
Water Control - (5) Average/strong (I would say the high end of average pushing to the low end of strong.)
PERSONALITY
Ever since Fathom was young she has always had a love for pearls. The shiny white cultivated sand grain the oysters made were lovely in her eyes. If anyone gave her one she was in her glory. Finding ways to string them together to place in her hair and anyone else who would let her. An odd thing that wasn't so nice about Fathom was she was fascinated watching humans drown in the sea. Yes she kept a safe distance but still it fascinated her to watch them struggle then float to the surface or sink to the floor. At times the bodies had to be drug off so not to attract sharks and other scavenger/predators. She wondered how something that seemed so frail could be so deadly. Losing both her parents to the humans gave her no care to want to know them better in any way. In her own tribe Fathom might have been seen as just a bit aloof. In her mind no race was better then those that swam in the waters and she always had an I know I'm perfect attitude. Humble she isn't. She enjoys the young a great deal and will dote on them as she was doted on if she is able.
HISTORY
Growing up in the water was as it is for most young Wavedancers. Little Pearl was able to do as she liked most of the time but kept close watch over. When her parents were lost to the humans she was then raised by her much older brother (Shark Seeker) and his lifemate(Sun Skipper). Their son (Reef Runner) quickly became her play toy but didn't seem to mind the ever following little cousin that quickly became like a sister to him. It seemed her will was not to be denied and may be the reason she feels she is special. Or it could be her water magic that surfaced not long after her parents died. It was then she was taught to harness her power and hone her skill.
When Little Pearl was discovered in the blackness of the deep Chief Dark Pearl (who was also known for going into the blackest depths) saw fit to school the young one on plants and animals found there. Better she be there with someone then swimming into the darkness alone. Soon she was given the name Fathom. As years flew by in an endless fashion that elves hardly noticed Fathom became a lovely young woman.
It was during this time she came to have lovemates and life lessons. The long spans of early adulthood holding many joys. Moments under the stars never to be forgotten and broken hearts that only time could mend. Fathom still enjoyed making jewelry for herself and others in her tribe. Enjoying scouting around for lovely shells, rocks or any other thing that caught her eye. It was on a run to the Oceans black bottom with her Chief and now friend Dark Pearl when the world was to change forever. The very ocean shook and Fathom gasped. Dark Pearl calmed her but things soon were not calm at all. Creatures starting darting and swimming about. Some bumping into them as they made their way slowly back to the light. Not wanting to hurt or be hurt by anything. The ocean floor ripped open and a large cloud escaped from the rip. It was then that Dark Pearl felt something within his very being ache. Now swiftly they swam as the waters around them seemed to try and spit them out. Large jets of land pushed up from under them. The grounds blood poured out in hot anger making it hard to keep ones bearings in mind. His mind touched Fathoms telling her to go home NOW as they split up in the confusion. Only a heartbeat did she hesitate for as much as he was her friend he was still her chief and not to be ignored. Her mind touched his lightly with hope and she was gone.
On her way the mountains split and fell into the waters. Creatures swam and moved to get away. Ariana became confused in her directions trying to avoid everything that was going on. Her mind called for help but only heard faint calls for help from others. Her brother and her cousin stuck out in her mind. Trying to help others and help keep order as things went mad. Then Shark Seekers scream as his lifemate was killed. It hurts so much to feel his sadness. Before she realized what had happened a great cloud of underwater gasses engulfed her. She struggled to breath and move to the surface. Here she blacked out and drifted where the wild waters might take her. When she woke Fathom had no idea if she was near her home or not. Her mind tried to reach out but found no response. Now she swims aimlessly about looking for others to ease her pain from being alone and lost.
BOND
Although she enjoyed the dolphin pods greatly. They were much like children themselves. Airana never bonded with any of them. Rather she made friends with all of them.
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