[Imladris]

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – No

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?
List them, please: I am in two, though I certainly have time for this one. I am in Resistance (which should be over sometime in November) and the Lingering Darkness
Please note you may play in only 3 games at one time.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? – YES. I have posted in The Green Dragon Inn
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For your character please include:

NAME: Lira Nen of Ithilien

AGE: 312 years old. Born in the 3rd Age 2721

RACE: Sindarin Elf

GENDER: Female

WEAPONS: Lira carries a simple silver dagger, a gift given to her by her friend Esgallhugwen, with ivy/floral engravings upon the handle and blade.

APPEARANCE: Lira is decidedly ugly, which is rare in the race of the fair folk. Her hair falls limply to her waist and is pale yellow, like a weak sunbeam struggling through winter’s clouds, and it is streaked with many strands of white which is as pure as driven snow. A casual observer would at first think that she has no eyebrows, but, if they look closely, they will see that they are pure white and overshadow her eyes, which are large and round and are as blue as water upon a winter’s day which turn to cool ice when she is angered. Her high cheek bones are very prevalent. Her skin is pale and fine as ivory. She stands straight and is not slender, though she moves with the customary grace of the elves.

She often dresses in varying shades of green and blue. On this particular outing, she is wearing a hunter green dress that barely brushes her ankles; she also wears a silvery green tabard. Her dresses are girt at the waist by a belt made of intertwining vines of silver and gold. Her shoes are soft leather and she often walks about barefoot. She wears no jewelry. Her hair is left free when she is not traveling, but when she is, numerous braids are entwined about her head.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Lira is very skilled in both the arts of healing and of warfare. Her weapon of choice is a bow, being that she is an elf of the woodlands, but she is also competent with the knife or dagger. She is not easily angered, but has an inbred hatred of evil things and wickedness. Normally she is happy, quick to laughter and smiles, her blue eyes sparkle and she is full of life; but occasionally, sometimes for no reason at all, she can be plunged into depression, despair and sadness. When she is in this depressed state of mind, she moves listlessly and does her duties mechanically and is not alert. These spells of varying moods can last either for a few minutes, days, or even years (for those of you who know her in the Green Dragon, she is in a “happy” mood right now). She is very sympathetic when people suffer misfortune. She also has the uncanny ability to sense if something is wrong or if danger is close. She also has some ability in sensing the emotions of others. So she can tell if someone is angry, upset, sad, happy, whatever.

Lira does not judge anything, people or otherwise, hastily. Once she has come to a conclusion, it is difficult to change her mind. She is stubborn, which can sometimes be an asset, and loyal. Forgiveness comes slowly to Lira. She views things with a sense of reality and does not deny the truth when it is unpleasant.

Though often Lira is often alone by herself, through her own choice, she is terrified of ever being truly alone, where there really is no one to go to for help or comfort.

Though unfair to the eye, when she speaks her voice is as the laughing spring, the dancing river, or as soft as the falling rain. When she sings, it is hauntingly beautiful, enchanting both elf and man. Though her voice does not have healing qualities, it has brought hope to those who have succumbed to despair, brought comfort to the grieving, eased the path of the dying, and calmed the fear of men.

HISTORY: When Lira Nen was fifty years old, she left her dwelling in Mirkwood and journeyed to Imladris, where she dwelt for 170 years. There she learned lore and the art of the healing as well as many other things from the elves who dwelt there. After that she left and returned to Mirkwood, just in time to hear of a group of dwarves who had been imprisoned in Thranduil’s palace. Their later escape had always puzzled her. During this short stay, she met two elves named Merenwen and her brother Celohir with whom she fell secretly in love. Two years later, she journeyed to the golden woods of Lorien and there learned many things of value. She dwelt there for 75 years, with an occasional visit to Mirkwood. While living in Lorien, she had heard rumours of a shadow that haunted the dark forest: a vile thing that Mithrandir and another were tracking; she had also heard vague tidings of evil. Towards the end of the year 3017 the rumours reached their peak, and early in the year 3018, she rushed back to the forest of her birth, no longer heeding her parent’s plea for her to remain in safety in Lothlorien. In April, Thranduil’s realm was attacked and Lira served as a healer in the palace. In one of the subsequent attacks, Lira and a few others sallied out together to aid the elvish line that threatened to crumble under the fiendish tide of the orcs that mercilessly assailed it. It was in this attack that Celohir fell under the vile knife of the orc. Rushing to him, she sang to him to comfort him for she had always known that he would have journeyed to the Valinor long ago if the times had not been so troubled.

During this time of bloodshed and grief, Lira gradually lost hope and gave up to despair. No song came forth from her lips, and she grieved over the loss of many a fair elf who should have been singing on the shores of the Valinor. It was a blow to her during the War of the Ring, for she had not realized until she had returned to Mirkwood all the evil that had been growing and spawning the darkness of Mordor and in the white tower of Isengard.

After the war, she went with the elf colony that Prince Legolas founded in Ithilien, her parents accompanying her. They left a couple of years later and began their journey to the Grey Havens. In the course of the years that followed, Lira had journeyed several times to follow them to the Grey Havens, but she was often called aside by many things and often she would simply turn back and return to Ithilien. In the course of her travels she re-visited Imladris and the empty forest of the golden wood. She is in the Shire at this time because she had resolved to go to the Grey Havens, but became distracted with the beauty of the Shire and decided to tarry in the Little Folk’s land. Shortly before she left, a raven named Corn sent from her parents came to her at the Green Dragon and now he is always near her.
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Imladris' post

Corn was bobbing rhythmically on Merkaliel’s head, who whickered pleasantly as Lira trotted down the dirt path that led to Bree. That morning she had come across an abandoned trail some hours ago and had left the rest of the search party to go and explore it, as it led roughly towards Bree. But after an hour or so it had switched direction and so she traveled cross country until she had hit the main path again. She had searched in the dust for the tracks of the others, but did not find them. It was near dawn now, but early morning mists enshrouded the two in a wispy mantle and seeping fog entwined itself around the mare’s hooves; the horizon was stained with crimson, while orange tendrils curled greedily clutching at distant mountain peaks.

A soft singing arose eerily from the dusky meadow that stretched to her left: the singing of passing elves as they wended their way as a silver river through the hills of the Shire. Lira reigned Merkaliel, and waited for the ethereal line to pass: Corn for once was silent and stood with unaccustomed stillness as he waited with her. She could see them now, their faint light thrusting the pressing darkness of early morning away. The first elf, strong and beautiful, stepped into the path and Lira said, her musical voice soft and low, “Mae govannen.”

The elf bowed low and returned the greeting. They spoke in the Sindarin tongue and another elf, a lady named Merenwen, asked, “Lira Nen, what are you doing here? I thought that long before you would have taken ship to the blessed land of the Valinor.”

Lira smiled sadly and said, “The fair lands of Middle-earth call to me still, Merenwen, she whispers continually in my ears of the hills, the dimpled vales, and little river of this land, of the mighty forests which have withstood the darkness, and of the victory over the Shadow. It brings me joy to see the meadows of Ithilien plush with green grass and to see the white wildflowers sway in the passing breeze.”

The elves were silent and Merenwen asked, “Where is your bow? You are an elf of Eryn Lasgalen and yet you carry a dagger?” Corn snickered derisively and glanced insolently with a beady eye at Lira.

“The dagger was a gift of a friend…I forgot to bring my bow with me when I departed from Ithilien. I was worried about my parents and…” Lira‘s voice trailed off. Corn croaked sympathetically, flapped to her shoulder, and ran his beak through the various strands of hair that had come unbound from the braids that encircled Lira’s head.

Merenwen sighed softly and, as the line of elves continued their journey, she called, “Namarie Mellon Lira. We will eagerly await you on the shores of the Valinor,” she said, as they continued their own journey.

Lira watched them slowly disappear into the night, their silvery glimmer lingering long after their forms had disappeared. She shook herself and prodded Merkaliel forward as she thought of the parting words of Merenwen; Corn squawked with indignation as he lurched forward at the sudden movement of the horse. Eight years ago her parents had left Ithilien and told her that they would journey over the land of Middle-earth and, after about seven years, they would arrive at the Grey Havens and take a ship to the Valinor. They had promised to send a message, a dove, telling her when they reached the Grey Havens. Eight years had passed, and no messenger had come. Stifled fear and worry rustled in her heart, for the paths had yet been dark when they had departed. They had not gone in a group as Merenwen had wisely done, but had set off by themselves, alone, with but bows and arrows for protection from the wilds and the lurking orcs and spawn of evil that remained.

Leaving the thoughts of her parents behind, she mused of her mission to Evendim. She would be accompanied by others in the search for the missing Eodwine of Rohan. Stiffening, Lira wondered who would slay the rangers and messengers of Gondor and now Rohan. Or maybe they were not slain, Lira mused as a new angle of the tangle of unanswered questions entered her mind. But surely some would escape? Or maybe they had met with a fate worse than death…or maybe they really were a pile of bleached bones, if their flesh had already decomposed, otherwise they would be mere carcasses with...Lira shuddered and saw that she had reached Bree.

The wooden gate was partially hidden in friendly shadows, and rapping her knuckles upon the rough wood, Lira patiently waited for the watchman to let her pass.

“Who goes there?” a man barked, opening the portal as he peered intently through the gloom.

“An elf maid,” Lira answered back. “I am looking for Uien.” Corn nodded his head vigorously and hopped again to the Merkaliel’s head and ran his beak through her silky mane.

The man nodded briskly at the name and said, “She’s staying at the Prancing Pony, Miss,” he said, gesturing in the general direction.

“Thank you,” Lira replied. She slowly made her way towards the Prancing Pony, handed her horse over to the stable master, and looked about her. Corn grinned mischievously at Lira and disappeared into a pile of straw.

Hobbits and men were laughing loudly as they conversed of the doings and happenings of life in the Common Room; a hobbit danced gaily upon a wooden table, encouraged by the cheers and toasts of his companions. Others sat quietly in the corners, just out of reach of the fire’s lurid light. Lira’s eyes roved the tables and finally saw Uien, Falowik and two other hobbits. Making her way towards them, she said, “Mae govannen, Uien.”
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Edit: you'd think that after crafting this for several days and re-reading it over and over it would be perfect by now.

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: Imladris ]

[ October 13, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]