Post by Kono Slaker on Jan 3, 2007 23:04:11 GMT -5
Name: Carnesir, Ithildae (Dae for short, pronounced ‘die’)
Age: 107
Gender: Female
Hair//Eye color: Black/ One blue, one green
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 126
Town of Origin: Kirtan/Osilon
Weapon of Choice: Fairly good with a sword, and a bow, but she has unsurpassed skills with the san jie gun (three-sectioned staff).
Magic experience: Semi-skilled
Languages: Ancient and Human
Description: Though Dae is over a hundred years old, she appears about eighteen years old. She is slender, but very strong, as most of her weight is muscle. She has a delicate face, like all elves, but a hardness resides behind her odd-colored eyes. When she looks at people, it seems as though she can see into their souls, which makes many people uncomfortable. She often wears red, though she it is often accentuated with green, brown and gold. She almost always wears a dark brown cloak with a hood to disguise herself when she does not want people to see her as an elf. The cloth is very fine, yet very durable.
She loves learning new fighting styles, as well as enhancing the ones she has.
As a result of her training, she does not read or write very well, but she is enchanted by tales told by storytellers. Ithildae deals very well with people, knowing what to say to get what she wants. Very few people even realize that she is manipulating them. She uses that to her advantage.
Dragon name: Laerfea (pronounced ‘lyre-fey’)
Dragon gender: Female
Dragon color: Deep red with blended orange, gold, and white streaks along face, back, sides and tail.
Dragon Age: 8 months
Dragon Description: Laerfea is on the small side, but she has a hidden well of strength that she draws on when her ingenuity and cunning do not get the results she is looking for. The dark red of her scales give her camouflage when flying during both dawn and dusk. She values honesty more than almost anything, and she has no respect for those who lie to her.
Past: Ithildae’s parents lived in Kirtan. When Dae was 50 years old, she went to Osilon to study fighting technique under Sarn Rochben. Master Rochben had spent centuries training in all kinds of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat. Dae learned to fight with spears, broadsword, double broadswords, and three-sectioned staff. She preferred the three-sectioned staff because of the freedom of movement it allowed, as well as the reach she had with it. As part of her training she listened to stories Master Rochben told of great fighters who became heroes. She focused the majority of her efforts on the physical aspect of a fight, yet Master Rochben also trained her to have an almost impenetrable magical defense.
After 25 years of being one of Master Rochben’s disciples, Ithildae was proclaimed a Mistress in her own right. From her former master, Dae received a silver san jie gun, inscribed with a single word Fearless. From Astaldo, she received a straight sword with a garnet set in the hilt. Astaldo’s father was a swordsmith, and he made the gift sword for Ithildae’s ceremony.
On the day she left, not long after the ceremony, Sarn Rochben found his student in the great tree outside of her home, her pack waiting for her at the base of her hide-away.
“Greetings, Master,” Ithildae said, without any other indication that she was aware of his presence. After a last moment in her sanctuary, Dae made her way to the ground. She bowed out of a 25-year-old habit.
“Greetings, Dae. I wished to see you off,” Sarn said, and with a slight laugh, he added, “You do realize that you don’t have to bow, or call me ‘Master.’”
“You may no longer be my master, but you will always be my teacher,” Dae said in reply.
“Very well. Where will you go from here?”
“I think I may go see my parents in Kirtan, then I guess I will leave the forest, find where I am most needed.”
“Then I shall leave you with something that you have heard before, but you should make sure you keep it in mind, always: It’s not enough to know how to fight. You have to understand the spirit of martial arts. It’s also not enough to have a strong body; you have to have a strong soul.”
“Thank you, Master. I shall do my best to remember.”
“May you have a safe journey. I hope to hear of your travels someday.
******
After returning home to Kirtan, and seeing her parents, Dae traveled east, staying within Du Weldenvarden. She had no intentions of entering the Hadarac. Not long after she exited the farthest eastern point of the forest, Dae found herself in Therinsford, where she met the storyteller’s apprentice, Gareth. Ithildae was fascinated with the tales Gareth told, and over the next two decades, they became friends. Dae was there when Gareth became the storyteller, following the death of his master, and she was there when he married Elena.
About a year after his niece, Aranel, lost her parents and went to live with Gareth and Elena, Dae said her farewells, and went in search of adventure. She had left for short periods of time to explore, and continue training, but she never went far.
This time, she went along the Spine, wishing to see if she could find something unexpected. She met a group of traders, and she followed them, learning about Galbatorix and the evils he had done. She stayed with them for the better part of a year, then, leaving the caravan, went off by herself to find a balance between herself and her new knowledge.
A decade passed and Dae had grown stronger in both her fighting and her magic. However, she made a mistake.
While returning to Therinsford from the edge of the Hadarac Desert, she passed too close to the city of Gil’ead. She was captured.
She counted heartbeats. She counted footsteps. It was the only way for her to keep time, as she had no view of the sky from her cell. She listened to the guards talk of matters that mostly did not concern her. Then, about a month after she was taken prisoner, as close as she could tell, she heard a guard mention that Galbatorix would be coming to Gil’ead.
It was only a matter of a few days before Galbatorix arrived. Dae was awoken from her reverie by the creaking of the door to her cell. In walked a man who radiated power, and commanded respect. She wouldn’t give it too him.
With a sneer, she said, “I presume you are the great king, Galbatorix.” Her voice carrying only the slightest touch of sarcasm.
“You would do well to show me respect,” came the reply. “I want you to join me, you have a great talent; you could go far with my help. Fight for me.”
“I don’t give respect to those who don’t deserve it… and I do… not… take… orders,” she said, emphasizing each of the last words.
“Then make it a request with an added threat. If you do not fight for me, then I will hunt down that storyteller friend of yours. I would not be responsible for what happens if it were to come to that.”
Introduction: Ithildae slowly made her way through the forest near Therinsford. She always felt comfortable in the forest; it reminded her of a time when she did not have to worry about so much. She had just finished a visit with Gareth. She made sure that Galbatorix was keeping his end of the deal.
He believed her to be valuable to his plans, as such, he could do nothing to her. She made the list of conditions: She does not have to swear fealty; she does not have to follow any of his orders; she does not have to kill; her actions would not be questioned. If he crossed a line she didn’t want him to, Ithildae would leave. She told him that at their first meeting. Much to her surprise, he accepted her rules.
Galbatorix could not harm her, because if something happened to her, then he would lose his grasp on her, and he did not want that.
Still, she didn’t trust him, or any of his minions. For almost the last year and a half, she had been traveling for Galbatorix, scouting. She would see people doing things that the king would surely want to know, however, what he didn’t know would hurt neither her, nor the other people.
She walked out to the road as the sun began its descent. Not far down the road, Dae could see a trader’s caravan. She knew of a clearing not far from where she was, she was prepared to offer it to the caravan, in hopes of gaining passage with them. As they neared, a smile slowly made its way to her face.
“Thavron,” Dae called as the caravan reached her. “It is good to see you again.”
A look of confusion flickered across the carpenter’s face, but an instant later, it was replaced by elation as he recognized who had spoken. He said, “Good to see ya, too, Ithildae. What’s it been almost ten years?”
“Ten years too long. How have you been?”
“Not much has changed, still in the business. I think I am going to be leaving this life soon, though. Return home to Daret, for good. My son would take over this caravan then. Speaking of which, Falas has been asking about you, recently, I do not know why.”
“I will seek him when you get settled for the night. Do you have a place in mind?”
“Isn’t that clearing of yours around here?”
“Yes, it is. There should be enough light left to allow you to get through the trees without any trouble.”
Once everyone had made it to the clearing, little fires began to glimmer in the approaching dark. Ithildae walked among them, noting how many of the people had changed so much over the last decade. As she neared the end of her inspection, she saw the person she had been looking for.
Falas had sandy blond hair, so light that it almost looked white, and crystal blue eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Ithildae knew he was not yet twenty. Ithildae could see no resemblance between father and son.
“Falas,” she said as she walked up to where he was sitting beside a small fire. “I hear you have been inquiring about me.”
“Dae! It is amazing to see you again,” Falas replied, as he rose from his seat. “I have something to show you.”
“What?”
“Not here. Follow me,” He said as he led the way to where his father’s things were.
Falas gently picked up a bag from the pile and began to weave his way out of the clearing, and into the surrounding trees. He went a few hundred feet from the edge of the clearing, then stopped. He set down the bag, and removed a round object, wrapped in a cloak.
He stood up as he began to remove the cloak. As the cloak fell to the ground, Ithildae’s eyes widened as she recognized what he held. The red sphere with orange, gold and white patches, was not an ordinary object.
“That’s a dragon’s egg! Where did you get a dragon’s egg?” Ithildae asked, almost not believing what she was saying.
“I met a guy who said that he took a red stone from a collection of multi-colored stones. I asked him if I could see it. This guy had no idea what it was worth; he gave it to me in exchange for a couple of bows. That was two months ago. I do not know why, but I thought of you. I thought I would show it to you and see what happens.”
Ithildae tentatively reached out a hand to touch the egg. She could not explain it, but something jumped. She knew the egg was meant for her. She told Falas.
He said, “It is yours. I hope it will protect you in the coming years, as you have protected us in the past.”
“Thank you, friend,” Ithildae replied, not sure what else to say. There seemed to be no words to describe the emotion she felt.
Ithildae stayed with the caravan for the next few days as they traveled to the next town on their route. However, four days after receiving her egg, Ithildae decided to break away from the group. She said her farewells to Falas and Thavron, and a couple of others with whom she had been close. She explained to Falas that she did not want to risk the egg hatching while in the middle of the traders.
She wandered through the forest, enjoying the solitude, and when night began to fall, she hunted with her bow, killing a few rabbits. She fell asleep not long after darkness settled over the forest. She had a fire burning, but she banked the coals in case she needed light before morning. She was awoken by a high-pitched screech.
Startled, she reached for her staff, then she realized the sound came from the egg. As she stirred the fire, a crack rippled along the surface of the shell. Ithildae stood up and collected the rabbits, bringing them within arms reach from the egg. She waited, amazed at the wondrous sight before her.
After what seemed like an eternity, pieces of the shell began to come loose; she quickly moved them away from the hatching dragon. Finally, the hatchling was free from the shell. It was beautiful, a deep red with orange and gold along its face, back, sides, and tail. Ithildae had chosen names that could possibly be accepted: ‘Caran-asea’ meaning ‘Red Leaf’; ‘Lhachril’ or ‘Lhachglin’ both meaning ‘Fire Gleam’; ‘Cugufea’ meaning ‘Spirit of the Dove’; ‘Laerfea’ meaning ‘Spirit of Song’.
Ithildae allowed the hatchling to eat the rabbits, which seemed to satisfy it, as it fell asleep shortly thereafter. Ithildae let the fire die down as she sat watching her new dragon sleep.
She woke as the sun just started to rise. It was still dark, but dawn was not far off. In the pre-dawn light, Ithildae saw the sleeping form of the hatchling, but it began to wake almost instantly, wanting more food. Ithildae hunted again, catching a rabbit and two squirrels. After the small dragon had eaten, Ithildae suggested the names, none of them seemed to fit, until she reached Laerfea. The dragon bobbed her head in agreement, rubbing her head against Ithildae’s side.
“Laerfea, it is then,” Ithildae laughed, content to have such a magnificent companion; unconcerned as to what would happen when Galbatorix learned of the newest dragonrider. However, something told her that he would be able to do no more than he had before.
(accepted with 3/3)
Age: 107
Gender: Female
Hair//Eye color: Black/ One blue, one green
Height: 5’4”
Weight: 126
Town of Origin: Kirtan/Osilon
Weapon of Choice: Fairly good with a sword, and a bow, but she has unsurpassed skills with the san jie gun (three-sectioned staff).
Magic experience: Semi-skilled
Languages: Ancient and Human
Description: Though Dae is over a hundred years old, she appears about eighteen years old. She is slender, but very strong, as most of her weight is muscle. She has a delicate face, like all elves, but a hardness resides behind her odd-colored eyes. When she looks at people, it seems as though she can see into their souls, which makes many people uncomfortable. She often wears red, though she it is often accentuated with green, brown and gold. She almost always wears a dark brown cloak with a hood to disguise herself when she does not want people to see her as an elf. The cloth is very fine, yet very durable.
She loves learning new fighting styles, as well as enhancing the ones she has.
As a result of her training, she does not read or write very well, but she is enchanted by tales told by storytellers. Ithildae deals very well with people, knowing what to say to get what she wants. Very few people even realize that she is manipulating them. She uses that to her advantage.
Dragon name: Laerfea (pronounced ‘lyre-fey’)
Dragon gender: Female
Dragon color: Deep red with blended orange, gold, and white streaks along face, back, sides and tail.
Dragon Age: 8 months
Dragon Description: Laerfea is on the small side, but she has a hidden well of strength that she draws on when her ingenuity and cunning do not get the results she is looking for. The dark red of her scales give her camouflage when flying during both dawn and dusk. She values honesty more than almost anything, and she has no respect for those who lie to her.
Past: Ithildae’s parents lived in Kirtan. When Dae was 50 years old, she went to Osilon to study fighting technique under Sarn Rochben. Master Rochben had spent centuries training in all kinds of weapons as well as hand-to-hand combat. Dae learned to fight with spears, broadsword, double broadswords, and three-sectioned staff. She preferred the three-sectioned staff because of the freedom of movement it allowed, as well as the reach she had with it. As part of her training she listened to stories Master Rochben told of great fighters who became heroes. She focused the majority of her efforts on the physical aspect of a fight, yet Master Rochben also trained her to have an almost impenetrable magical defense.
After 25 years of being one of Master Rochben’s disciples, Ithildae was proclaimed a Mistress in her own right. From her former master, Dae received a silver san jie gun, inscribed with a single word Fearless. From Astaldo, she received a straight sword with a garnet set in the hilt. Astaldo’s father was a swordsmith, and he made the gift sword for Ithildae’s ceremony.
On the day she left, not long after the ceremony, Sarn Rochben found his student in the great tree outside of her home, her pack waiting for her at the base of her hide-away.
“Greetings, Master,” Ithildae said, without any other indication that she was aware of his presence. After a last moment in her sanctuary, Dae made her way to the ground. She bowed out of a 25-year-old habit.
“Greetings, Dae. I wished to see you off,” Sarn said, and with a slight laugh, he added, “You do realize that you don’t have to bow, or call me ‘Master.’”
“You may no longer be my master, but you will always be my teacher,” Dae said in reply.
“Very well. Where will you go from here?”
“I think I may go see my parents in Kirtan, then I guess I will leave the forest, find where I am most needed.”
“Then I shall leave you with something that you have heard before, but you should make sure you keep it in mind, always: It’s not enough to know how to fight. You have to understand the spirit of martial arts. It’s also not enough to have a strong body; you have to have a strong soul.”
“Thank you, Master. I shall do my best to remember.”
“May you have a safe journey. I hope to hear of your travels someday.
******
After returning home to Kirtan, and seeing her parents, Dae traveled east, staying within Du Weldenvarden. She had no intentions of entering the Hadarac. Not long after she exited the farthest eastern point of the forest, Dae found herself in Therinsford, where she met the storyteller’s apprentice, Gareth. Ithildae was fascinated with the tales Gareth told, and over the next two decades, they became friends. Dae was there when Gareth became the storyteller, following the death of his master, and she was there when he married Elena.
About a year after his niece, Aranel, lost her parents and went to live with Gareth and Elena, Dae said her farewells, and went in search of adventure. She had left for short periods of time to explore, and continue training, but she never went far.
This time, she went along the Spine, wishing to see if she could find something unexpected. She met a group of traders, and she followed them, learning about Galbatorix and the evils he had done. She stayed with them for the better part of a year, then, leaving the caravan, went off by herself to find a balance between herself and her new knowledge.
A decade passed and Dae had grown stronger in both her fighting and her magic. However, she made a mistake.
While returning to Therinsford from the edge of the Hadarac Desert, she passed too close to the city of Gil’ead. She was captured.
She counted heartbeats. She counted footsteps. It was the only way for her to keep time, as she had no view of the sky from her cell. She listened to the guards talk of matters that mostly did not concern her. Then, about a month after she was taken prisoner, as close as she could tell, she heard a guard mention that Galbatorix would be coming to Gil’ead.
It was only a matter of a few days before Galbatorix arrived. Dae was awoken from her reverie by the creaking of the door to her cell. In walked a man who radiated power, and commanded respect. She wouldn’t give it too him.
With a sneer, she said, “I presume you are the great king, Galbatorix.” Her voice carrying only the slightest touch of sarcasm.
“You would do well to show me respect,” came the reply. “I want you to join me, you have a great talent; you could go far with my help. Fight for me.”
“I don’t give respect to those who don’t deserve it… and I do… not… take… orders,” she said, emphasizing each of the last words.
“Then make it a request with an added threat. If you do not fight for me, then I will hunt down that storyteller friend of yours. I would not be responsible for what happens if it were to come to that.”
Introduction: Ithildae slowly made her way through the forest near Therinsford. She always felt comfortable in the forest; it reminded her of a time when she did not have to worry about so much. She had just finished a visit with Gareth. She made sure that Galbatorix was keeping his end of the deal.
He believed her to be valuable to his plans, as such, he could do nothing to her. She made the list of conditions: She does not have to swear fealty; she does not have to follow any of his orders; she does not have to kill; her actions would not be questioned. If he crossed a line she didn’t want him to, Ithildae would leave. She told him that at their first meeting. Much to her surprise, he accepted her rules.
Galbatorix could not harm her, because if something happened to her, then he would lose his grasp on her, and he did not want that.
Still, she didn’t trust him, or any of his minions. For almost the last year and a half, she had been traveling for Galbatorix, scouting. She would see people doing things that the king would surely want to know, however, what he didn’t know would hurt neither her, nor the other people.
She walked out to the road as the sun began its descent. Not far down the road, Dae could see a trader’s caravan. She knew of a clearing not far from where she was, she was prepared to offer it to the caravan, in hopes of gaining passage with them. As they neared, a smile slowly made its way to her face.
“Thavron,” Dae called as the caravan reached her. “It is good to see you again.”
A look of confusion flickered across the carpenter’s face, but an instant later, it was replaced by elation as he recognized who had spoken. He said, “Good to see ya, too, Ithildae. What’s it been almost ten years?”
“Ten years too long. How have you been?”
“Not much has changed, still in the business. I think I am going to be leaving this life soon, though. Return home to Daret, for good. My son would take over this caravan then. Speaking of which, Falas has been asking about you, recently, I do not know why.”
“I will seek him when you get settled for the night. Do you have a place in mind?”
“Isn’t that clearing of yours around here?”
“Yes, it is. There should be enough light left to allow you to get through the trees without any trouble.”
Once everyone had made it to the clearing, little fires began to glimmer in the approaching dark. Ithildae walked among them, noting how many of the people had changed so much over the last decade. As she neared the end of her inspection, she saw the person she had been looking for.
Falas had sandy blond hair, so light that it almost looked white, and crystal blue eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Ithildae knew he was not yet twenty. Ithildae could see no resemblance between father and son.
“Falas,” she said as she walked up to where he was sitting beside a small fire. “I hear you have been inquiring about me.”
“Dae! It is amazing to see you again,” Falas replied, as he rose from his seat. “I have something to show you.”
“What?”
“Not here. Follow me,” He said as he led the way to where his father’s things were.
Falas gently picked up a bag from the pile and began to weave his way out of the clearing, and into the surrounding trees. He went a few hundred feet from the edge of the clearing, then stopped. He set down the bag, and removed a round object, wrapped in a cloak.
He stood up as he began to remove the cloak. As the cloak fell to the ground, Ithildae’s eyes widened as she recognized what he held. The red sphere with orange, gold and white patches, was not an ordinary object.
“That’s a dragon’s egg! Where did you get a dragon’s egg?” Ithildae asked, almost not believing what she was saying.
“I met a guy who said that he took a red stone from a collection of multi-colored stones. I asked him if I could see it. This guy had no idea what it was worth; he gave it to me in exchange for a couple of bows. That was two months ago. I do not know why, but I thought of you. I thought I would show it to you and see what happens.”
Ithildae tentatively reached out a hand to touch the egg. She could not explain it, but something jumped. She knew the egg was meant for her. She told Falas.
He said, “It is yours. I hope it will protect you in the coming years, as you have protected us in the past.”
“Thank you, friend,” Ithildae replied, not sure what else to say. There seemed to be no words to describe the emotion she felt.
Ithildae stayed with the caravan for the next few days as they traveled to the next town on their route. However, four days after receiving her egg, Ithildae decided to break away from the group. She said her farewells to Falas and Thavron, and a couple of others with whom she had been close. She explained to Falas that she did not want to risk the egg hatching while in the middle of the traders.
She wandered through the forest, enjoying the solitude, and when night began to fall, she hunted with her bow, killing a few rabbits. She fell asleep not long after darkness settled over the forest. She had a fire burning, but she banked the coals in case she needed light before morning. She was awoken by a high-pitched screech.
Startled, she reached for her staff, then she realized the sound came from the egg. As she stirred the fire, a crack rippled along the surface of the shell. Ithildae stood up and collected the rabbits, bringing them within arms reach from the egg. She waited, amazed at the wondrous sight before her.
After what seemed like an eternity, pieces of the shell began to come loose; she quickly moved them away from the hatching dragon. Finally, the hatchling was free from the shell. It was beautiful, a deep red with orange and gold along its face, back, sides, and tail. Ithildae had chosen names that could possibly be accepted: ‘Caran-asea’ meaning ‘Red Leaf’; ‘Lhachril’ or ‘Lhachglin’ both meaning ‘Fire Gleam’; ‘Cugufea’ meaning ‘Spirit of the Dove’; ‘Laerfea’ meaning ‘Spirit of Song’.
Ithildae allowed the hatchling to eat the rabbits, which seemed to satisfy it, as it fell asleep shortly thereafter. Ithildae let the fire die down as she sat watching her new dragon sleep.
She woke as the sun just started to rise. It was still dark, but dawn was not far off. In the pre-dawn light, Ithildae saw the sleeping form of the hatchling, but it began to wake almost instantly, wanting more food. Ithildae hunted again, catching a rabbit and two squirrels. After the small dragon had eaten, Ithildae suggested the names, none of them seemed to fit, until she reached Laerfea. The dragon bobbed her head in agreement, rubbing her head against Ithildae’s side.
“Laerfea, it is then,” Ithildae laughed, content to have such a magnificent companion; unconcerned as to what would happen when Galbatorix learned of the newest dragonrider. However, something told her that he would be able to do no more than he had before.
(accepted with 3/3)
