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Old 05-31-2009, 09:52 AM   #1520
Spirited Weaver of Fates
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Hello everyone, it's been awhile, I hope you don't mind the uninvited Guest I guess I just can't resist a good wedding But don't worry I will write for Ęšel too So here are the bios for both of them:

Name: Iomhair Fearghal

Age: 24 Gender: Female

Race: Human (Barding)

Appearance: Standing at 5ft 8” Iomhair is considered tall for a woman and with soft brown eyes and wavy brown hair many a man would deem her pretty perhaps even beautiful in her fine cut coats usually of blues, yellows or deep purples finely embroidered with contrasting colours, atop snug fitting blouses and long skirts. She has a medium complexion marred only by the occasional ink smudge. Being a scribe by trade her long fingered hands are constantly stained and a fine feathered quill can always be found somewhere about her person, if not in her hand, then tucked either in her hat or her belt or even tucked behind an ear.

Character: Other than being born in the lake town of Esgaroth very little is known of Iomhair’s past, a wandering scribe never content to call any one place home for too long, preferring instead to learn and document the tales of other more interesting life’s than her own. A free spirit full of life and love, a hopeless romantic more suited to poetry than the fine craft of scribing some might say. Full of good intentions Iomhair portents to only writing truths, ‘weather those truths be damaging or not is up to the reader’ she would protest ardently. Some mistakenly may think her a fool even a bit of a sap, but Iomhair is well educated and well versed in the vices and deceptions of many of the houses within the race of men. Like most scribes her only weapons are her quill and keen mind, she shuns violence where possible preferring the role of spectator to combatant. Perhaps Iomhair’s worst weakness is for a pretty face and a sweet smile, though it could not be said that she deferred from the passion and chase of a man believing himself above love.


Name: Ęšelhild (Ęšel)

Age: 20 Race: Gondorian Gender: Female

Appearance: Ęšelhild is tall and slight; her rich dark hair falls over her shoulders with the sides usually pulled back into a neat and tidy braid. Deep dark brown eyes reflect the sorrows of her past. Despite dark eyes and hair her complexion is unusually fair, giving her a gentle beauty that she is plainly unaware of.

Ęšelhild’s attire is usually that of various coloured Cytel’s worn over shifts of either white or cream linen and tied at the waist with either leather or hand woven knotted belts. Almost always in her possession are her simple box and a small knife for cutting roots and herbs.

At present Ęņelhild is in possession of her father’s sword (though she never wears it). A unique blend of both Rohan (Her ancestors on her father’s side having originally come from Rohan) and Gondorian craftsmanship went into its making. The blending and folding of it’s metals done in the Rohan fashion, with the tang just short of the full width of the blade giving it an even balance, yet the guard, grip and pommel distinctly of Gondorian influence, with a majestic rearing horse to the right of a great spreading white tree and an anvil and hammer to the right engraved into the pommel. (No-one but Eodwine, Matrim and Balvir are aware of the swords presence.)

Character/History: Before the afflictions of her uncle (Lord Cild, head merchant of Minas Tirith) Ęšelhild was a happy and bright young girl, brought up by her father in the ways of Gondorian noble society and more than a little pampered, but in no way naļve as many believed her to be. She disliked the games and deceits of nobles and spent much of her time in the halls of healers. Her Grandmother had been a Lęce and it was only natural that she would have the same affinity and the healers had no objection to sharing with her the secrets of their craft, especially as she was eager and even willing to do the chores required each day, chore’s that many other children of nobility would quite openly sneer at.

Ęšelhild’s happy and contented life was not to last, as on a routine patrol her father and his men were ambushed and killed changing her life forever. Ęšelhild’s mother having died in child birth and her grandparents having also pasted she was left unto the care of her Fathers brother, Cild a crude and shrewd businessman who had always distanced himself from the family, weather by choice or not Ęšelhild did not know, but she had noticed that he and her father never seemed pleased to see each other.

After several cruel and sometime brutal years at the hands of her Uncle Ęšelhild become quiet and withdrawn and even stopped visiting the halls. The once confident and exuberant child now seemed to be afraid of her own shadow. It was rumoured (A rumour started by her uncle) that she grieved the loss of her father (Lord Arethil) and her late mothers brother (Lord Mordavim) and would not come out of her room to see anyone, it was even rumoured several times that she had tried to take her own life, but none of the healers had ever been permitted to see her, her uncle insisting he had his own private healer and would use no other.

But Halfric the son of the late lord Arethil’s scribe and Ęšelhild’s childhood friend would not believe the lies of her uncle. The truth was that he loved her and although he knew the nobility of her birth would never allow for him to be an acceptable suitor, he cherished their friendship and could never believe that his friend would not wish to confide her grieve much less be so weighed by it that she would think to end her own life. So he challenged Cild time and time again to let him see her but the merchant refused eventually bringing false charges against the boy which saw him enlisted to the southern boarders for three long years... to cool his temper and stay his tongue the magistrate had ordered.
Reluctantly he served his time under the command of captain Balvir of Ithlien and returned no longer a boy but a young man with his resolve hardened. His weapon skills had remained minimal but his skill in information gathering and espionage would serve the purpose of his return. He was resolved to remove Ęšelhild from the reach of her uncle. So it was that he returned secretly and set about gathering information and even bribing members of the merchant’s household until one night when Cild was to be gone sometime he snuck into the great house and convinced Ęšelhild to leave with him.

But fate was not to be on their side and as the two friends prepared to make haste southward Cild returned unexpectedly, His fury at finding them together caused him to draw blades on Halfric. Ęšelhild attempted to intervene, only to find the back of her uncle’s hand across her face knocking her into a large oak desk and on to unconsciousness. That was the final straw for the heated young man and he lunged at the monster he saw before him all sense diminished by his rage until enviably Cild (son of a weapons master and brother to a knight of Gondor) stuck the killing blow that was to end his life forever.

Ęšelhild regaining consciousness opened her eyes to find the vacant empty eyed stare of her dead friend, she let out a scream and next thing her uncle had grabbed her up by the hair, murderous wrath in his eyes and Halfric's blood still dripping from his sword. Filled with a fear she thought not possible her hand scrambled behind her on the desk that had caused her head to throb so in unyielding pain. She could feel her uncle’s hot breath on her face as he leaned in threatenly, it was then that she felt it, cold and solid in her clammy hand she hesitated for a moment thinking that perhaps death would release her from this life and its pain and she could finally be with those she loved, But as Cild raised his sword hand not to strike her but to brush her cheek gently, she realised the truth, He would never let her go she would be his prisoner forever. She shuddered at the thought and clasping her hand tightly around what she guessed was Cild's letter opener, she closed her eyes and plunged it into his chest, she did not see his look of shock and horror but she did hear the thud of sword and man hitting the floor and that was all she needed, opening her eyes she ran across the room; out the door; down the dark passage ways and out the rear door to the waiting horses. Tears streamed her face as she mounted the mare Halfric had readied for her and rode out the gates and out of Gondor! (She thought for good.)

Ęšelhild knew not where she was going or what she would find, her future was uncertain and it was not long before she was completely lost. Her sudden freedom was not as gratifying as she had hoped. A young woman alone on open roads was an easy target for bandits and scoundrels. Ęšelhild faced many harrowing ordeals before eventually finding her way to Edoras and the shelter of a dry stable (That of the old White horse inn) Where she met and befriended Saeryn of the folde who took kindness upon her and later Mistress Bethberry the Innkeeper of the white horse who gave her work and shelter.

So it was that Ęšel (As she now calls herself) found a life first as house maid of the White horse, then later Serving girl in the Mead hall and soon to be Healer to Lord Eodwine of the Gap/Scarburg and although she could never erase the memory of her past she had slowly come to believe that in this place she could find some of what she had lost and find again a purpose in her life. But once again fate was not to be her friend and the arrival of Matrim and Balvir to the Halls of Mesuald was to bring that past crashing back to her!!! But for better or worse is yet to be seen.........


Just a quick question: Are you planning to have the traditional sharing of food and drink between bride and groom? as I was thinking of having Ęšel (or perhaps it should be Kara?)bring out the mead cup filled with a honey mead (as honey was traditionally associated with fertility and the mead with prosperity) I believe bread was also shared though I can not remember its significance off hand, I think it had something to do with the sharing of each others lives and taking care of one another.... hmm not sure though. Also are you planning to have the grooms man and Braids maid bind their hands? as Ęšel would quite like to make the bind cloth/ribbon (not sure of the right name for this item) a gift to them.

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LINKED ~*~ Pio
"Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live" ~ Mark Twain.

Last edited by piosenniel; 10-11-2009 at 02:45 PM.
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