Runboard.com
You're welcome.
SAMPLE BANNER

runboard.com       Sign up (learn about it) | Sign in (lost password?)


 
Eowomyrill Profile
Live feed
Blog
Friends
Miscellaneous info

Registered user
Global user

Registered: 11-2004
Location: Denmark (GMT +1)
Posts: 52
Reply | Quote
Enmiria Caelrim


"I let fire take my past; that leaves room for a future"

Name Enmiria Caelrim
Race Ar-tel-quessir (sun elf, high elf)
Birthplace Evermeet

Height 5'7" (170 cm)
Weight 158 lb. (72 kg)
Build Muscular, athletic

Face Angular, prominent nose
Hair Dull gold, short-ish, ragged
Eyes Liquid silver

(More to follow at a later date)

Last edited by Eowomyrill, 8/15/2013, 6:10 pm


---
~Eow
8/12/2013, 5:23 pm Link to this post Send Email to Eowomyrill   Send PM to Eowomyrill MSN
 
Eowomyrill Profile
Live feed
Blog
Friends
Miscellaneous info

Registered user
Global user

Registered: 11-2004
Location: Denmark (GMT +1)
Posts: 52
Reply | Quote
A plan too good for comfort


She wondered whether they had considered the possibility. It didn’t feel like it, as she was led along the narrow paths through the dense undergrowth. The trees here were old and tall, yet somehow not calm and wizened, as old trees should be. They hungrily ate at the sunlight above, condemning the ground to a perpetual twilight; even the birds seemed to have no business here. Not a sound except for the light and flexible boots of her and her detainers, steadily walking along the near-invisible paths, this way and that. No, it seemed as if the thought of it had not at all occurred to them yet. She lowered her head and followed along.

    They were Arvakhil. Sharp eyes, bright minds, and quick feet. Investigators and scouts of Evermeet. That cursed place, she thought. Their backs straight, they walked swiftly with a subtle, proud gaze that had settled permanently in their eyes. They wore armours of silvery steel and flexible leather, exquisitely crafted; and at their hips and on their backs were fine weapons. They exemplified to the extreme that knowing arrogance for which the Ar-Tel-Quessir, the high elves, were known.

    At last they came to a small clearing. Him. Her heart raced even faster. Her fingers had a slight numbness to them – she could not tell if they were shaking.
    “Ah, there you are,” he flashed a smirk, and quickly covered it up again.
    “Fanarur…” She made no attempt to mask her scowl.
    He stood calmly. He was not in a hurry at all. “That is true! You guessed that part right,” he finally answered. Happy to remind me I fell into his trap.
    “I have precious little time to waste on you,” and it is just that; wasted.
    Fanarur clicked his tongue. “All right, I shan’t waste it then. Come over here.” He gestured for her to join him near a break in the line of trees; a large open space, a gorge, lay beyond them. “If it pleases your highness,” he added. Again the flash of a smirk.
    She felt the scowl on her face draw sharp creases. Even as the numbness in her fingers increased and her pulse made it hard to concentrate, she stepped forwards, joining Fanarur as he glanced across the gorge.
    “Isn’t it magnificent? I expect you should think so.” He said casually, taking in the sight.
    Not like you to stop and marvel at beauty… What is your game this time? She considered her plan again, if one could call it that – her palms were sweaty. A thousand other impressions from all senses could have had her attention, but somehow she could only think about the numbness and the sweat in her palm. She looked out at the gorge, reluctantly. “You had better not waste any more of–“ then she saw her. You devil, Fanarur… Not this.
    “Am I still wasting your time?” His tone was colder, less playful. All business. She noticed she had been standing dumbstruck for a second or two. Numb fingers, sweaty palms.
    Across the gorge a woman in a commoner’s dress was held tight by another group of Arvakhil.
    “Here is the deal… your highness,” he sternly said, looking across.
    Gods… he really has not considered it. She could feel the numbness in her fingers pulse. Her heartbeat was loud, threatening to burst in the back of her head at any moment.
    “A lot of people are expecting you to return home. Expecting you to take up a station befitting of you.”
    I hate that word…
    “The time has come to make a decision on your part. I’ve made mine, and my decision is this: You can go back to Evermeet. You may take a while, but do not think me patient. You go back there and you make your people happy. As you are expected to.” He paused, turning fully towards the gorge.
    Sweaty palms, numbing rushes of blood flowed through her body. I hate that bloody word!
    “-Or Sinead leaves this place. I am expected not to kill her,” he scowled. Unusual for him. “But I will have them leave her in a very… very inhospitable place. Do you understand?”
    She didn’t give him the satisfaction of a nod. A tense hiss from her was all he received.
    “These are your two options. I expect you to take the right one. A lot of elves are.”
    Sweat. Palms. Pulse… Hate.
    “For all your well-laid plans, Fanarur, it always comes down to force. Doesn’t it?” She breathed once, the thoughts in her head a chaos, with a single, thin line running through it. “You expect,” she spat out the word, “people to react to it.”
    “Quite successful so far,” he intervened, turning around calmly.
    Why hasn’t he considered it – is he toying with me? Is the idea completely lost to him?! “You hold my best friend, my saviour, captive. The woman who is the sole reason I survived the Battle of Beregost.”
    He nodded, matter-of-factly. “Nothing less would do.”
    “Nothing less would do for what?” She hissed.
    “For you submission, of course. We have played this game for too long, you and I!” he shouted, though he tried to mask it.
    “I will not play by your twisted rules. I walk.”
    “Then Sinead,” he pointed behind him across the gorge, “is forfeit. What do you expect me to, back down? No, your bloody little highness, this is the way we play this game.”
    The thundering pulse became waves of energy, carrying her, urging her forwards. He truly doesn’t see it… She moved fast. Like she’d learned. Her intent was clear as she lunged forward, her strong hands up.
    He defended himself as a reflex, unprepared, unplanned. A short yelp escaped him as her hands grabbed his, and forced them aside. Are they really that weak, or am I really that strong? She pushed him backwards, the way a worker would push a heavy cart, his feet skidding on the rocks beneath them… Out over the edge. She held him there, feet dangling out over the gorge. There was a look of fear in his eyes, and of unveiled disbelief. He never saw it… Never saw how hard he pushed me. The Arvakhil behind her stood still; it wasn't in their power to intervene.
    “Did you plan this?!” She shouted. She didn’t care how loud.
    “But you… you don’t kill elves! Sinead-”
    “I will never go back to that prison, to Evermeet. Never!” The scowl on her face felt comfortable. She hardly noticed it. She lowered her voice; “and besides,” she looked over the other side of the gorge, the Arvakhil standing there, completely still. “-besides I don’t think your friends expect me to kill elves in order to save her.”
    Their gazes locked. For all the strength in her arms, she could barely hold him there anymore.
    “What about you? Did you expect that?”
    Then his mask cracked, and he screamed.

Last edited by Eowomyrill, 8/17/2013, 10:26 am


---
~Eow
8/15/2013, 3:55 am Link to this post Send Email to Eowomyrill   Send PM to Eowomyrill MSN
 
Eowomyrill Profile
Live feed
Blog
Friends
Miscellaneous info

Registered user
Global user

Registered: 11-2004
Location: Denmark (GMT +1)
Posts: 52
Reply | Quote
Re: Enmiria Caelrim


--Log in or sign up to see linked image content--

Enmiria Caelrim performing the 'Linadwuil'; a kind of rhythmic song.

---
~Eow
8/15/2013, 4:19 pm Link to this post Send Email to Eowomyrill   Send PM to Eowomyrill MSN
 


Add a reply





You are not logged in (login)