Name: Tuulen Meeya Ludanen (Pronounced “Too-Lyn Me-yah Luh-de-none”)

Race: Purebred Ebony Dark Elf

Sex: Female

Age: By Dark Elf standards, she is about 17

Powers: As common with Dark Elves, she mainly uses fire magic and related magicks such as electric and plasma magic. She is trying to figure out how to use fire and ice magic to make a pair of eternal snow blades to give to the kings.

Family: Both her parents were commoners, her mother was a silversmith and her father was a blacksmith. She grew up in relative comfort with a few luxuries, but they couldn’t raise any livestock of their own or grow plants that got bigger than a pot because of the thick black smoke outside that wafted from the smithy. Her mother died after catching an infection after giving birth to her brother, Tulden (Toll-done).

Personality: A generally gentle woman, Tuulen spends much of her time combining the arcane arts with smithing, trying to invent better and stronger materials. She is kind and giving to those who have less than her, but has learned that in order to keep her father and brother in order, she needs to be short and stern with them. “Olun! Come in here now and clean the soot off the table so we can eat without ingesting coal and specks of iron!” “Ulun, don’t touch that plant! It will literally make your fingers swell and fall off! On second thought, go ahead and touch it. Then you won’t be getting into stuff you shouldn’t all the time.” You get the gist. She seems a little bitchy, but she really isn’t. She was made woman of the house very young, and didn’t quite know how to react to it so she toughened up for it. She has a soft spot for cats, most rodents, and baby rabbits. Adult rabbits she hates though, because they’re really gross and mean and unhygienic, so often the meat in their food is rabbit. Babies she takes care of though, and releases when they are old to enough to fend for themselves. She is secretly a hopeless romantic (wink wink anybody need a waifu?) and spends a few hours a week when she’s not working on her research or helping with the smithy she’ll find a clearing in a woods or a spot in a hay loft and read a bad romance novel.

Eyes: Light Yellow

Hair Color: White

Hair Style: Un-tied it hangs down just above her hips, but she wears it in a braid or a ponytail.

Appearance-Face: Soft angles with just a hint of cheekbones. Large, happy looking eyes, almond shaped. Lush lips with a perfect cupids bow. Does not usually wear makeup, but will put some dark rouge on her cheeks and very dark maroon on her lips if she’s going somewhere or meeting someone important.

Appearance-Body: 5’ 6”, 140 lbs, dark grey skin, slightly athletic build, pronounced hips and waist, 34 C cup.

Appearance-Apparel: Working-Puffy tan trousers tucked into knee high worn brown leather boots, random wool tank top with a square neck, brown leather arm guards with thick leather gloves underneath that go almost all the way to the seam of her sleeve. Utility belt that hangs loosely from her hip.
Not Working- Same pants, a different pair of knee high boots with soft leather and two inch rubber heels, random shirt of a similar theme, probably similar to a peasant blouse, random stomacher with the skirt part going to down to the middle of her thigh.
Formal- Pretty dress, not too flashy or fancy though. Something Medieval themed. Idgaf about the rest of that outfit.

Appearance-Misc.: several small scars on her forearms from before she realized she should probably wear safety gloves when working with volatile magicks and materials, one scarred patch on her should from an accident involving fire when she was younger, several cuts on her left and right ear which in all honesty, she liked the look of, so she did them herself. A few piercings on each ear, non-symmetrical. Most of the piercings are cast-iron with the exception of an ornate silver dragon’s foot holding an opal orb. No other jewelry unless she’s not working, then she has an amethyst crystal in the shape of a long claw or tooth attached to a long thin chain.

Weaknesses: The cold, large fires, burning pain, her family or friends being hurt or in danger, meeting important people who are actually important, such as one of the kings.

Strengths: Pride, agility, strength, can-do attitude, ability to get things done and to put 100% in it, realism, and bravery.

Job: Smithy/ Arcanesmith/ fire mage/ and now freelance adventurer!

Home: Near the marketplace of the capitol of Bright-Field.

Bio: Tuulen was born in December, and though her true love has always been metal and fire, she feels a strange pull towards snow and ice. She discovered that she had an unusual amount of power over fire based magicks at a young age, and though she was tutored in it she never had formal training. At one point she wanted to serve in the Guard, but was unable to bring herself to leave her brother and father to their own devices. Perhaps later in life, she can do it. She wakes up early every day, out of necessity rather than preference, and likes to watch the sun rise on the room while she eats her breakfast. She enjoys climbing things; trees, cliffs, buildings, you name it. She has vast technical knowledge, and is well versed in basic and intermediate fire spells. She’s a god awful cook, but she knows how to use herbs to improve the taste of her terrible food to make up for it. She also enjoys looking at the stars, but she’d rather sleep most nights than go star gazing.

(IF ANYONE WANTS TO BE HER SIGNIFICANT OTHER, OR WANTS ME TO RP HER IN THEIR RP JUST MESSAGE ME)

RP SAMPLE: Tuulen steps out of the smithy, pulls her gloves off, and unties her sooty apron. She lays it on a barrel next to the door and turns her head just inside the stable shaped structure. “Olun, I’m gonna go get something to eat from the market. I’ll be back in a little less than an hour.”, she calls to the elf by the forge. He is unusually large for a dark elf. He grunts in response and goes back to his hammering. She checks a bag on her belt to make sure she has enough currency for something good, and seeing that she only has a little left, shrugs and walks off.
She looks up at the signs in the marketplace, though she has them all memorized, and decides on a bowl of venison and oat stew. Making her way to her favorite stall, she notices her younger brother crouched over a circle drawn in the dirt with a few other children. They seem to be playing a game, so she just smiles and continues on her way. With a few greetings passed between shoppers and vendors, she’s almost to the stall when she feels her coin purse lighten a bit.
Without hesitation, she grabs the cutpurse’s arm and kicks their legs out beneath them. It’s just a scraggy looking man, maybe in his mid-thirties. Not a real threat. “Now”, she says in a cold voice, ”What exactly do you think you’re doing?” He has a confused look on his face, and slowly realizes that his arm is getting quite hot. “I was trying to steal it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me!”, he starts to wail. She throws his arm, releasing him, and he gingerly touches the shiny red handprint left behind. Not a bad burn, but enough to teach him. As he sits on the ground she points down at him and says in a seething tone “GO. I won’t turn you in, but everyone who has seen what just happen knows to be wary of you now. GET OUT OF HERE!”. He half crawls, half runs away and leaves (most) of the coins he stole behind. She gathers up the remainders and drops them on the table of stall-manager. He chuckles and brings her a bowl.