[piosenniel]

DEDICATED CHARACTER

1.) Durelin (Game Owner) – Elf Scout Captain from Mirkwood

Name: Calenvása

Age: 4,276

Race: Sindarin Elf of Mirkwood

Gender: Male

Weapons: Calenvása has never had need of learning the arts of war, nor has he ever wandered far from his home in Mirkwood. Since it has only been a short time that his homeland has been in danger, and Calenvása has found it hard to bring himself to defending his land, though it be his, he has never picked up a larger weapon than his hunting knife. It is a fairly long blade, slightly curved, with the sharpened edge along the back of the curve. Engraved in the dark oak handle is the Sun, her rays running both up and down, twisting and encircling both the handle and the blade. Calenvása has always found the Sun to be the greatest beauty of the Earth, this Middle-Earth that he holds dear in his heart, still. Its picture being on this weapon, which he carries at all times, now, does remind him that it sets in the West, as well. The other weapon he carries is a shortbow, another hunting weapon, and very useful within the forest. Both these weapons are useful now that he has given his service to Mirkwood as a Scout.

Appearance: Fairly tall, though not so tall among his kind, standing at 6 feet, 2 inches, he has the light complexion of the Sindarin elves, with typical grey eyes and blonde hair, which is allowed to grown down to just below his waist. He dresses in a tunic and leggings of dark forest colors, soft boots of brown leather, as well as bracers upon his arms.

Personality: Calenvása is still in love with Middle-Earth, and still mesmerized by its beauty. He is able to find so much more wonder in this world than many others, and dreams of nothing more. Never has his thoughts drifted to what he does not have, to what lies beyond. He has never left his own land, though he has wished to for many years. And when Elves and Men fought the Shadow thousands of years ago, the Shadow that has rose again, he remained in his land. His love for the World has never been great enough to overcome his fear. It is hard for Calenvása even now, though he is but a scout. He has no wish to face death, a concept he and his people have had little understanding of for many years, safe in their immortal haven. Even now, when the Shadow has been present within his home itself, he is unable to pick up any weapon more than the ones he has hunted with for many a peaceful year. As a scout, Calenvása predicted that he would not have to face his fears, but his prediction has been proven wrong several times since he first offered his service to Mirkwood. And now that his troop’s scouting has led him closer and closer to Dol Guldur, a pit of evil among part of which was the Elves’ glorious home, he is concerned that he will be forced to face much.

Though this fear has been ever present within him, Calenvása’s intelligence and ability to hide his emotions has allowed him to keep the fear from showing at all, except when he must use his knife or bow. It is mainly because of this that he is still only a Captain. He is a quick thinker, when fear does not prey at his mind, and his wisdom from many years is great. Another thing that impairs him is that he is not much of a leader, as he is reluctant to take command. He is readily able to make decisions, but is very often afraid to act upon them. Calenvása is never found lacking words, and he can be a very charismatic person. Also, he tends to be a very cheery person, always ready with a smile. This cheeriness stems from an insecurity, though, as he is unable to take things too seriously.

Calenvása cannot even think seriously of his fate. He knows only of Middle-Earth, and wishes to know nothing else. He keeps his ears closed to the sound of the Sea, and refuses to follow the Sun into the West. For now, he is content with this denial, as there is much yet to do for his Middle-Earth.

History: Calenvása has dwelt in Mirkwood and watched the Shadow grow over it, doing nothing, for quite some time. But when the fortress of Dol Guldur was made a stronghold of evil within the forest itself, Calenvása decided that it was time he gave his service. He rose to the rank of Captain among the Scouts very quickly, mainly because of his long ties with Mirkwood and its King, Thranduil. He once was offered a position among Thranduil’s councilors - which was offered because of a combination of Calenvása’s wisdom and family ties with the King - but declined it. He would have declined the offer of being made Captain, if he could have.

Authority, responsibility has never been a wish. Being involved in anything has been of little interest to Calenvása, as living has been enough. For years he has fought a war within himself, fighting against his fears with the love he has for Middle-Earth. He still fights it now, but has made much progress. Becoming Scout Captain has been one step, and he has steadily become more determined to do what he can. Unfortunately, he believes that what he can do is very limited.

The men he serves with still wonder about him, but they have grown to know him as of good spirit and good intention. They follow his lead, and lead when there is need of it.

~*~

Durelin's post

As leaves were disturbed in the underbrush of the forest, a cold finger came down to touch Calenvása’s skin and run down his neck. The drop of dew had clung to the leaves well into the morning, hiding from the sunlight of the early morning. The elf forced himself to remain still, though a tremor threatened to run through his body and his hand desired to brush away the itchy stream of water. As he had come to learn after years of practice, becoming someone else was the only way to escape feelings. Calenvása let his mind focus on what his eyes observed, and let it free to view the scene from whatever direction it wished. It of course was impossible for his mind to literally wander freely; it felt so odd only because this was true serenity.

What his eyes observed through thick growth and scattered branches and leaves hanging down into his line of sight was, in particular, a rather large orc garbed in an assortment of leather armor that still left quite a bit of dark skin bare sit and sharpen a huge slab of metal that was obviously thought of as a sword. Not two feet away another orc stood; and another; and another. It had been quite some time since this many dark creatures had been gathered in one spot. In this case, their numbers were so great that they had to gather outside the forest. Because of this, Calenvása could not get close enough to see how large a force was actually gathered here. But his eyes proved keen enough to tell that this was an army, and one comprised of thousands of orcs…

A flash of gold far away before him and to the right caught Calenvása’s eye. An army comprised of thousands of orcs…and southrons, and, as always, easterlings, too. A more sophisticated type of armor could only mean that evil Men were a part of this force as well. That was to be expected, of course, if this force was meant to carry out specific orders. These specific orders were one of the most important things to be learned from observing this force. For now, though, the most specific Calenvása wished to get was what this army’s destination was.

Calenvása decided to break the serenity and turn his head slowly to each side. He could see the elves that crouched beside him and behind him in the underbrush. They had been intently observing the movements of every single creature assemble among the swiftly clearing trees on the edge of the forest, but Calenvása’s slight movement had brought their eyes to him. Slowly bringing his hand up where it would be visible to all around him, he motioned to them and gestured behind him. They would need to meet to discuss their observations and decide on a plan of action.

One by one the elves moved deeper into the forest, deeper into the cover of the trees. Calenvása waited quiet and still for several minutes to make sure that he was the last to move. All the while his thoughts tried to piece together any clues he might have seen, going through the pictures in his searching for any information that was not obvious. All the while he could only wonder which route the army would take. Would they head north, to attack the part of Mirkwood still held by his kindred? Or would the army head east and south, to the Golden Wood, a sanctuary of beauty and home of his brothers?

It had been several years now in which the darkness had been growing, and the role of Calenvása and these elves as scouts had become of dire importance. Much rested in the hands of Calenvása, who had been given command of this scout troop or Mirkwood. He wished with all his heart to help Mirkwood fight back against the Shadow, but he could not help but be discouraged, especially with the image of thousands of orcs assembled just outside the boughs of his home.

Finally feeling that he had given his comrades enough time to make their way a safe distance from the creatures that so tainted the forest, he carefully made his way through the underbrush still in a crouch, and sheathed his belt knife as he did so. He had felt safer with it in his hand as he kept his eye on that orc sharpening his sword.


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EDIT: Revised post now on board - Pio