Post by Lindariel on Jan 11, 2010 21:18:11 GMT -5
Name of your Elf: Lindariel Halden, but everyone calls her Lin.
Age: 95
Gender: Female
Family Halden
Status: Both a warrior and a healer.
Weapons: Lindariel carries a long, simple staff made of hard wood that has spells on it to prevent it from breaking. It's almost more effective than a sword, because Lin doesn't use it to fight, just whack naughty little apprentices and, indeed, Riders. To fight, as she is a warrior, Lin has a bow that she sung herself from a tree. It is only by her side in battle, however.
History: Lin was orphaned as a child, and was brought up mainly by the Halden family. When she was old enough (actually, not quite. She left Illium a year or two before it was officially allowed) she left the island and travelled to Ellesmera with a company of some other elves. When asked if she wanted to see if a dragon egg would hatch for her, Lindariel scoffed and pushed the offer aside, saying she didn't want to.
She studied for years, and trained to become a warrior. She is proficient with almost any kind of weapon, but her favorite is the bow. When she was a bit older, Lin picked up the healing arts, and began to start developing her current personality as a result of many, many complaining and whimpering elves that were brought to see her. Over the years, she learned that it is better not to just sit by the sidelines, doing nothing. So she snaps. And yelled. And whacked elves and dragons alike with her staff.
Speaking of the staff, Lindariel acquired it in a very peculiar way. In Ellesmera, Lin had the tendency of sneaking off to a small hollow in the ground in a certain garden-no one really knows where-and singing to herself. It happened that there was a tree right above this hollow; the entrance to the small cave was under the roots. It was a small opening, so Lin only had access to it for a few years of her life in Ellesmera. However, one night she was feeling rather alone, and went to said tree to sing. Suddenly, she realized that she wanted to take this tree wherever she went, so she made a point of going back again and again until she had successfully sang a staff from the tree.
Personality: Lin is a bit sharp. She doesn't care for formalities, as she was born at a time when the elves were a younger race, and more reckless than they are now. She was born a few years after Eragon, but she treats him and everyone else as if they were no more than an apprentice. She expects everyone to answer to her, although she is by far not the oldest elf around. She trained hard as a warrior, and picked up healing a bit later, although she excels at both. Living on Vroengard with the Riders is about her worst nightmare-all the 'disobedient little pups' running about give her headaches.
Not really. She acts tough, but she really cares for all the Riders. Otherwise, why would she be a healer? Once someone has been brought to her she expects to be left completely alone, and she won't take no for an answer. Lin is a healer simply out of the kindness of her apparently non-existent heart. She likes to help people, since no dragon ever hatched for her (not that she tried). She loves her race and the Riders very much, which is why she consented to stay on Vroengard in the first place.
Lin belongs to the 'You-hurt-yourself-don't-expect-it-to-be-all-over-so-easily' group when it comes to healing. She prefers herbs and salves to magic on little things like burns. Only on big things does she really use magic. Lin is a very good spellcaster, and has incredible endurance and a large amount of knowledge regarding healing, but she doesn't do much offense-wise with her magic except to alter her arrows to suit her needs (Lighting them on fire, etc.).
Lin loves everyone very much, and while she tries to be rough she sometimes slips and lets her guard down. That's when her affection comes through, and she is always embarrassed that it happened. However, if someone were to lead her out of it she could be the most devoted person in the world.
Appearance: Lin is a tall elf, almost six feet tall. She has white-blonde hair that hangs neatly under her chin in a bob. To battle, she wears purple armor, something a blacksmith friend once made for her. It fits her and no one else, and she doesn't let anyone borrow it. Lindariel is very thin, and her hands are thin and graceful. She always smells of sweet herbs, but rarely ever smiles. In her left hand she always carries a staff. It is smooth, honey-colored wood, and far from a walking stick. It's more of a disciplinary thing than anything else; Lin uses it to whack misbehaving Riders and dragons. Her eyes are a hard golden-brown color, with almost no expression in them. Her skin is light, and her hands are callused. Usually, Lin can be seen in a sweeping cloak and tunic, and high leather boots and gloves. She keeps her bow and quiver, decorated with tiny silver beads, locked away for times of war, and rarely takes them out.
RP Example: Lin stared with satisfaction at her rooms. A musty smell of herbs hung in the air, making every breath a medicinal nightmare to those not familiar with it. Lin, however, was familiar with the scent, and she enjoyed it immensely. "Perfect." She whispered to herself, a faint smile on her lips. Everything was where it should be, and that was the way she liked it.
Leaning on her staff, Lin looked towards the door. "Not too busy today, are we? Hmph. Means that there are less idiots in the world, I suppose. But I can't help but say that I'm rather lonely." Her rooms were dark, although they had windows. Herbs blocked the sunlight, and the few stray beams illuminated dust particles floating to and fro right in front of her nose.
Grumpily, she blew them away, but they returned. She blew harder this time, annoyed at the little things, and still they returned to their original position. "Well." She said softly. "I suppose that's how things always are. One second you think things are getting better.." A shout of alarm came from outside, and the healer heard fast footsteps outside her door.
"The next they just get worse."
Age: 95
Gender: Female
Family Halden
Status: Both a warrior and a healer.
Weapons: Lindariel carries a long, simple staff made of hard wood that has spells on it to prevent it from breaking. It's almost more effective than a sword, because Lin doesn't use it to fight, just whack naughty little apprentices and, indeed, Riders. To fight, as she is a warrior, Lin has a bow that she sung herself from a tree. It is only by her side in battle, however.
History: Lin was orphaned as a child, and was brought up mainly by the Halden family. When she was old enough (actually, not quite. She left Illium a year or two before it was officially allowed) she left the island and travelled to Ellesmera with a company of some other elves. When asked if she wanted to see if a dragon egg would hatch for her, Lindariel scoffed and pushed the offer aside, saying she didn't want to.
She studied for years, and trained to become a warrior. She is proficient with almost any kind of weapon, but her favorite is the bow. When she was a bit older, Lin picked up the healing arts, and began to start developing her current personality as a result of many, many complaining and whimpering elves that were brought to see her. Over the years, she learned that it is better not to just sit by the sidelines, doing nothing. So she snaps. And yelled. And whacked elves and dragons alike with her staff.
Speaking of the staff, Lindariel acquired it in a very peculiar way. In Ellesmera, Lin had the tendency of sneaking off to a small hollow in the ground in a certain garden-no one really knows where-and singing to herself. It happened that there was a tree right above this hollow; the entrance to the small cave was under the roots. It was a small opening, so Lin only had access to it for a few years of her life in Ellesmera. However, one night she was feeling rather alone, and went to said tree to sing. Suddenly, she realized that she wanted to take this tree wherever she went, so she made a point of going back again and again until she had successfully sang a staff from the tree.
Personality: Lin is a bit sharp. She doesn't care for formalities, as she was born at a time when the elves were a younger race, and more reckless than they are now. She was born a few years after Eragon, but she treats him and everyone else as if they were no more than an apprentice. She expects everyone to answer to her, although she is by far not the oldest elf around. She trained hard as a warrior, and picked up healing a bit later, although she excels at both. Living on Vroengard with the Riders is about her worst nightmare-all the 'disobedient little pups' running about give her headaches.
Not really. She acts tough, but she really cares for all the Riders. Otherwise, why would she be a healer? Once someone has been brought to her she expects to be left completely alone, and she won't take no for an answer. Lin is a healer simply out of the kindness of her apparently non-existent heart. She likes to help people, since no dragon ever hatched for her (not that she tried). She loves her race and the Riders very much, which is why she consented to stay on Vroengard in the first place.
Lin belongs to the 'You-hurt-yourself-don't-expect-it-to-be-all-over-so-easily' group when it comes to healing. She prefers herbs and salves to magic on little things like burns. Only on big things does she really use magic. Lin is a very good spellcaster, and has incredible endurance and a large amount of knowledge regarding healing, but she doesn't do much offense-wise with her magic except to alter her arrows to suit her needs (Lighting them on fire, etc.).
Lin loves everyone very much, and while she tries to be rough she sometimes slips and lets her guard down. That's when her affection comes through, and she is always embarrassed that it happened. However, if someone were to lead her out of it she could be the most devoted person in the world.
Appearance: Lin is a tall elf, almost six feet tall. She has white-blonde hair that hangs neatly under her chin in a bob. To battle, she wears purple armor, something a blacksmith friend once made for her. It fits her and no one else, and she doesn't let anyone borrow it. Lindariel is very thin, and her hands are thin and graceful. She always smells of sweet herbs, but rarely ever smiles. In her left hand she always carries a staff. It is smooth, honey-colored wood, and far from a walking stick. It's more of a disciplinary thing than anything else; Lin uses it to whack misbehaving Riders and dragons. Her eyes are a hard golden-brown color, with almost no expression in them. Her skin is light, and her hands are callused. Usually, Lin can be seen in a sweeping cloak and tunic, and high leather boots and gloves. She keeps her bow and quiver, decorated with tiny silver beads, locked away for times of war, and rarely takes them out.
RP Example: Lin stared with satisfaction at her rooms. A musty smell of herbs hung in the air, making every breath a medicinal nightmare to those not familiar with it. Lin, however, was familiar with the scent, and she enjoyed it immensely. "Perfect." She whispered to herself, a faint smile on her lips. Everything was where it should be, and that was the way she liked it.
Leaning on her staff, Lin looked towards the door. "Not too busy today, are we? Hmph. Means that there are less idiots in the world, I suppose. But I can't help but say that I'm rather lonely." Her rooms were dark, although they had windows. Herbs blocked the sunlight, and the few stray beams illuminated dust particles floating to and fro right in front of her nose.
Grumpily, she blew them away, but they returned. She blew harder this time, annoyed at the little things, and still they returned to their original position. "Well." She said softly. "I suppose that's how things always are. One second you think things are getting better.." A shout of alarm came from outside, and the healer heard fast footsteps outside her door.
"The next they just get worse."