[piosenniel]

Elves of Lórien


Seth Cotton's character

NAME: Vaele Andarion

AGE: 1,268

RACE: Elf of Lorien

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS : Vaele carries a fine, carved long bow which he is very accurate with. The bow as engraved runes and is of very good quality. It was a gift from his father and therefore means quite a lot to Vaele. He also has a short sword attached to his leather belt which he uses at times for more close combat.

APPEARANCE: A lithe and elegant elf and has blonde shoulderlong hair with thin plaits on the sides that stretches all the way down to his shoulders as well. His clothing that he bears seems rather simple, but it offers more protection than it seems to. He wears a woven shirt with wristpads, shoulderpads and a thin armourplate on the stomach. Due to his need of staying flexible at all times, his armour must not weight him down. He has a dark green woven robe that gives him a splendid camouflage in trees, and in forest terrain in general actually. The rest of his outfit is pretty standard, elven light boots and typical pants with no remarkable protection, as he after all is a marksman.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: A quite laid back and calm elf, even in the most pressured and hasty situations, he somehow remains cool when many others panic. He often says that his brain is more powerful than his bow when it comes to fighting in a war, and at times it seems hat he is right. He takes advantage of the situations, the terrain and things around him to do what he has to do. Either it is about defeating a foe or bypass obstacles in his way.

He has a lot of honour and pride, and he is definitely not an elf to insult. Because insults is something he doesn't take lightly. This pride is nothing that really shows on the calm surface of his, but it is noticeable when talks, always adressing people with respect which is a way for him to show that he is honourable, acts or is being insulted. At verbal confrontations he is very quick to reply to comments about him, still with a calm intention, but his way of keeping his pride on top is obvious.

HISTORY: Vaele lived peacefully in Lorien, being trained as a marksman with a clear talent for accuracy and speed with the bow. He has become more and more skillful over the years of training in the forest, practicing his silent movement and sharp hearing which appeared to prove useful to him later in his life. He longed to prove himself worthy after all the training he had went through, and one day his chance came. To aid Eregion at all means.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seth Cotton's post

Vaele took up his bow, felt its weight. He nodded for himself and placed the fine longbow on his right side and let it lean against the wall as he took up the rest of his needed equipment. His quite weak breastplate was filled with memories, he sighed as he put it aside in the pile of “Necessary Things”. His longbow, arrows, breastplate, leather armour pads for both legs and arms and his hunting knife were all in the Pile of Necessary Things. As well his backpack with some bread and small, chopped pieces of fruit.

His sister came in, all dressed in white and golden hair. She walked in without a sound and kneeled down on the floor beside Vaele. She stroked him over the forehead and he turned his head slowly over to her and met her gaze. She looked sad, but Vaele knew that she was doing her best to hide it.

“I will come back sister.” He said and forced himself to smile.

“Be careful. I will not stand losing another brother cause of some meaningless fight.”

“I promise you I will return.” Vaele answered and rose up from the floor and began to strap on the armpads. As he came to the strapping on the breastplate around his back his sister helped him.

“Be brave Nilwèn, do not despair because of me. It will not help to griev.”

His sister rose up as well, her cheeks were red. “Do not play a hero!” She exclaimed, almost yelling at him with her lightest voice. He saw that she began to shiver, probably she cried but Vaele was not sure. Nilwèn ran out of the talan and Vaele stood in the middle of the room and looked with sad eyes after her. Vaele growled and took on his robe. He tried to ignore her and her emotional burst, instead focusing on what he had to do. He was not to let this interfere. His fingers nibbled on the robes silver clasp. Attempt after attempt he failed to fasten it.

After a cursing the clasp and a few more attempts without any luck, he managed to fasten it. He had never been good at practical things; doing things with his hands in general. He had never possessed that skill. He lifted up his backpack and took it on. He kept his bow hanging by his shoulder and his knife in the boot. He was all set to go. He left the talan, but stopped in the door opening and looked around in the talan for a moment. It had his been his talan for ages, his sanctuary, his oasis, and now he stood there knowing that he might never return to it again.

He stood for another moment, remembering all the times he had found peace in the quite small talan. He slowly closed the door and decided to bid farewell to his father. His father met him on the small lawn in front of the talan. They embraced as father and son, Vaeles father patted him in the back as he let go. He did not say anything, he didn’t have to, his eyes said it all. He was against it as well, he had complained about Vaeles decision from the day he mentioned that he had been thinking of signing up for it.

It surprised him, he thought his father would be more understanding than that.

“Farewell father.”

“Farewell my youngest son…” He stood quiet; closed his eyes and sighed. “Stay safe”

“I will.” Vaele said shortly and began to walk to the camp for the contingent which was stationed outside Caras Galadhon. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw his sister stand, beautiful and completely silent, looking after him as he walked. Her expression on her face was a memory he never forgot.

He walked lightly and swift, thinking he was already late. The darkness came closer over the talans and he wanted to get there as quick as possible. As he got closer he saw the banners and the many tents with preparations; archers checking their bows, captains giving orders. It was a constant alarm of noise.

“Archer, you are late.” Vaele heard a voice behind him, which sounded pretty annoyed. He turned to see who it was, and as he suspected it was the commander of their contingent.

“I beg your pardon, Commander…” Vaele said and half-bowed.

“Commander Eldegon” The tall, pale elf said with a remarkable superiority in his voice. He sighed and looked at Vaele, kind of examining his possible capabilities in combat. “Good at stealth? Scouting? We need a scout in the first rank. Someone swift and silent, a good hand with bows is appreciated, but by judging your equipment and yourself, you seem to be a pretty skilled archer.”

Vaele just nodded quite baffled. The elf talked clean and unusual quick. He must be in quite a stress, Vaele thought.

“Very well, get in the first rank and prepare yourself. We will march in the daybreak.”

Vaele walked over to where he was directed, the first rank in the lead. He was quite pleased with his given position, and being a scout fitted him well. He saw another elf from the first rank ahead. He wasn’t sure wether this was the first rank or not, so he walked over and asked the elf which appeared to be rather young. “Excuse me, friend, but is this the first rank?”