The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - The Fall of the North Planning/Discussion Thread

piosenniel · 01-10-2005, 02:09 AM

Dedicated Character - Elven Emissary from Rivendell - Nilpaurion Felagund

Name: Bethiril

Age: 5488

Race: Eldar

Gender: Female

Weapons: She has never touched a weapon, let alone owned one. She is disdainful of implements of war, never learning how to wield one even when she participated in the battle of Eriador in the Second Age. She has always deemed it her mission to make sure that they not be needed anymore.

Appearance: Being of pure Noldorin descent, Bethiril has black hair framing her unusually calm face with quiet grey eyes. She is scarcely less tall than most males of Elves and Men of the West, and is usually clad in garments little less luxurious than those worn by members of the kingly houses. On the ring finger of her left hand she wears a ring adorned with a gem of sapphire shaped like the flowers of Menelluin, the wheat of Yavanna, surrounded by six small yellow crystals, fashioned by Enerdhil for Idril’s handmaidens, which she now uses as a symbol of her service to Elrond, son of Eärendil, daughter of Idril.

Personality: Being an emissary, her speech is guarded and her emotions are bottled up at all times. Bethiril shows admirable command of her tongue, blending well-crafted words and deep passion in her speeches that stir all but the hardest hearts. Around fighting men she seems aloof and cold, perhaps thinking that she is higher than they are, not having stained her hand with the blood of any that live.

History: Bethiril was born a few months before the Fall of Gondolin, escaping from that dreadful plight when her mother’s sister, one of Idril’s handmaidens, led her mother to Tuor and his soldiers fleeing with Idril and her son from the wrack of the city. Of her father she had no news, though she knew in her heart that he fell to the Orcs when Maeglin betrayed the Way to Morgoth. Her mother was slain when the Sons of Fëanor assailed the havens of Sirion. She escaped with her mother’s sister to the isle of Balar. After the fall of Angband she took the ship to Eldamar, while Bethiril remained with the Elves of Lindon to serve Elrond, who she deemed Turgon’s heir, and therefore her lord.

She was with the host led by Elrond that Gil-galad sent to Celebrimbor’s aid, to act as an emissary between the two armies of the Eldar. They were, however, driven back to the Misty Mountains. There, they were besieged in newly founded Imladris until the Númenóreans came and destroyed the black host. After the Downfall of Númenor and Sauron’s assault on Gondor she was one of the emissaries that shuttled between Lindon, Imladris, and Lórien when the Last Alliance was formed.

Ever since the march of Elrond to Mordor she had never left Imladris. Until now.

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Nilpaurion Felagund’s post:

It seems to be her fate to be stuck in sieges.

Bethiril was less than a year old when Morgoth unleashed his might and destroyed Gondolin in a short and bitter siege. She had been with her lord Elrond when Gil-galad’s expeditionary force to Eregion was driven away by Sauron’s Orcs to the feet of the Misty Mountains and contained there for three years.

And now this.

She and her guard had been caught on the walls of the highest level when the Orcs finally broke through the second wall of Fornost Erain. She had just been in the city a few weeks before, hammering out the final details of the alliance that all had hoped would crush the menace of Angmar with great fists from the West and the East.

It seems that the treaty had been too late. In Bethiril’s eyes, the might of the Dúnedain of the North had crumbled with their walls.

“Milady, we must now flee to the King’s courts,” her guard pleaded, knowing the great danger of staying in the open.

Bethiril did not stir. She watched as the black tide flowed through the breach of the dike. The siege weapons far behind rolled a few furlongs forward, and then stopped.

She was raging inside, though none could guess from her impassive gaze. How she hated the tumult of battle! How she hated lives being cut down by the thousands before their time, when the chances of the world were enough trouble for Elves and Men.

A boulder crashed a few feet below her. The stone wall of the Norbury of the Kings seemed to have endured the blow, but she saw cracks appear in it, the ravages of war seeking to increase its foothold in this great city of Men. Soon, this, too, shall crumble.

“Yes, we must,” she said, turning suddenly around and walking swiftly ahead of her guard to the King’s sanctum.

01-10-2005, 02:09 AM	#84
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,786	Dedicated Character - Elven Emissary from Rivendell - Nilpaurion Felagund Name: Bethiril Age: 5488 Race: Eldar Gender: Female Weapons: She has never touched a weapon, let alone owned one. She is disdainful of implements of war, never learning how to wield one even when she participated in the battle of Eriador in the Second Age. She has always deemed it her mission to make sure that they not be needed anymore. Appearance: Being of pure Noldorin descent, Bethiril has black hair framing her unusually calm face with quiet grey eyes. She is scarcely less tall than most males of Elves and Men of the West, and is usually clad in garments little less luxurious than those worn by members of the kingly houses. On the ring finger of her left hand she wears a ring adorned with a gem of sapphire shaped like the flowers of Menelluin, the wheat of Yavanna, surrounded by six small yellow crystals, fashioned by Enerdhil for Idril’s handmaidens, which she now uses as a symbol of her service to Elrond, son of Eärendil, daughter of Idril. Personality: Being an emissary, her speech is guarded and her emotions are bottled up at all times. Bethiril shows admirable command of her tongue, blending well-crafted words and deep passion in her speeches that stir all but the hardest hearts. Around fighting men she seems aloof and cold, perhaps thinking that she is higher than they are, not having stained her hand with the blood of any that live. History: Bethiril was born a few months before the Fall of Gondolin, escaping from that dreadful plight when her mother’s sister, one of Idril’s handmaidens, led her mother to Tuor and his soldiers fleeing with Idril and her son from the wrack of the city. Of her father she had no news, though she knew in her heart that he fell to the Orcs when Maeglin betrayed the Way to Morgoth. Her mother was slain when the Sons of Fëanor assailed the havens of Sirion. She escaped with her mother’s sister to the isle of Balar. After the fall of Angband she took the ship to Eldamar, while Bethiril remained with the Elves of Lindon to serve Elrond, who she deemed Turgon’s heir, and therefore her lord. She was with the host led by Elrond that Gil-galad sent to Celebrimbor’s aid, to act as an emissary between the two armies of the Eldar. They were, however, driven back to the Misty Mountains. There, they were besieged in newly founded Imladris until the Númenóreans came and destroyed the black host. After the Downfall of Númenor and Sauron’s assault on Gondor she was one of the emissaries that shuttled between Lindon, Imladris, and Lórien when the Last Alliance was formed. Ever since the march of Elrond to Mordor she had never left Imladris. Until now. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Nilpaurion Felagund’s post: It seems to be her fate to be stuck in sieges. Bethiril was less than a year old when Morgoth unleashed his might and destroyed Gondolin in a short and bitter siege. She had been with her lord Elrond when Gil-galad’s expeditionary force to Eregion was driven away by Sauron’s Orcs to the feet of the Misty Mountains and contained there for three years. And now this. She and her guard had been caught on the walls of the highest level when the Orcs finally broke through the second wall of Fornost Erain. She had just been in the city a few weeks before, hammering out the final details of the alliance that all had hoped would crush the menace of Angmar with great fists from the West and the East. It seems that the treaty had been too late. In Bethiril’s eyes, the might of the Dúnedain of the North had crumbled with their walls. “Milady, we must now flee to the King’s courts,” her guard pleaded, knowing the great danger of staying in the open. Bethiril did not stir. She watched as the black tide flowed through the breach of the dike. The siege weapons far behind rolled a few furlongs forward, and then stopped. She was raging inside, though none could guess from her impassive gaze. How she hated the tumult of battle! How she hated lives being cut down by the thousands before their time, when the chances of the world were enough trouble for Elves and Men. A boulder crashed a few feet below her. The stone wall of the Norbury of the Kings seemed to have endured the blow, but she saw cracks appear in it, the ravages of war seeking to increase its foothold in this great city of Men. Soon, this, too, shall crumble. “Yes, we must,” she said, turning suddenly around and walking swiftly ahead of her guard to the King’s sanctum.